by K. Webster
“Harley,” I start with a whine. “I don’t know if we should do this.”
He growls again. God, I’m starting to really love those growls. “You’re my wife.” The possessive way in which he says it has me shuddering with need.
“I am,” I agree, grinding myself against him. “At least for three more weeks.” The thought of being alone again after that hurts more than I want to admit.
His palm slides up to my neck and he clutches me firmly, but not in a painful way. It’s as if he owns me. I don’t resist as he pulls me forward until our lips almost touch. Fire blazes in his brown eyes and I want it to burn me. I’ve never seen such heat in a man’s gaze. Heat for me. It’s exhilarating. Declan sure as hell never looked at me like I was his last meal that needed devouring.
“You’re mine, Taylor. Understand?”
My mouth parts open in surprise at his fierce proclamation. “For three more weeks.”
“For fucking ever,” he corrects, his voice firm. “Now kiss me like you mean it.”
That’s the only warning I get before he tugs me forward. My lips latch on to his, tentative at first, but soon, I’m begging for access into his mouth. The needy moans resonating from me get the job done and he opens his mouth, his tongue eager to meet mine. Our kiss becomes a frenzy of tongues and teeth and wet lips. His wiry beard scratches my tender flesh in the most exciting way. I want to know how it feels to have his facial hair scraping along every part of my body.
“You’re mine, Taylor.”
“For fucking ever.”
The need to belong to him overtakes me and hope flutters in my chest. Fear of abandonment and a broken heart hide in the shadows as hope, this new sensation, shines bright, alighting every corner of doubt in my mind.
“Goddammit, I want you,” he breathes against me before deepening our kiss. His thumbs once again slip into the front of my shorts, bypassing my panties. He doesn’t even have to touch my clit for me to start shuddering in anticipation.
The moment he actually touches my clit, I see stars. “Oh, God!”
Take me. Own me. Love me. But please don’t break me.
He sucks on my tongue as he massages me harder between my legs. I don’t last long and shudder wildly in his grip. The pleasure is ten times better than any orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I feel like we’re only scratching the surface and I already need so much more.
“So damn beautiful,” he praises, his fingers slipping out of my shorts and up my bare belly. “I’m ready to consummate this marriage.”
* * *
An hour ago, you could have asked me what I thought about Taylor Cunningham and I’d have told you she was a scared little girl hiding behind a snotty bitch who couldn’t see past the phone that’s always glued to her hand. I’d have told you she was OCD to a fault. Annoying as hell when bitching about coffee grounds on the countertop. And a workaholic. I’d have told you she cared more about what people thought about her than what she thought of herself.
She always wears a mask of indifference.
Plays the tough girl act.
And tonight, like so many tiny glimpses over the past couple of months, she showed me her true self.
The vulnerable girl behind the big green eyes and sassy mouth.
The one I can’t stop thinking about every hour of every day.
As soon as she revealed the unsure woman hiding beneath not long after we married, I needed to peel her apart until I had that woman in my arms indefinitely. The vulnerability beckons me. I want to hold and protect that part of her.
“Harley,” she argues, her hard girl act struggling to remain up. “As much as I’d like to…”
I pop off her nipple and regard her with a raised brow. Her lips are swollen from our kiss and my beard has reddened the pale flesh around her mouth. I love how I can mark her up with a simple kiss. Green hooded eyes drop to mine and she parts open those bitable lips.
“There is no reason why a man can’t fuck his wife. We signed up for this, babe,” I tell her, my voice low. I cup her breast and run my thumb along her pebbled nipple. “We both knew that if things were in our favor, we’d be fucking. Tell me why on God’s green Earth we wouldn’t fuck. You’ve soaked right through your panties and I’m so hard it hurts. We’re going to fuck and you’re going to like it.”
She lets out a gasp and gives me a small nod. That’s the only permission I need. With a quick shuffle, I whip her around until she’s flat on her back on the sofa. Nerves threaten to kill her alcohol induced high and she wrings her hands together.
“Play with your pretty tits,” I bark out as I hook my fingers into her tiny shorts.
She obeys and latches onto her breasts as I pull her clothes down her creamy thighs. Her skin is so fair. I’m dying to put my mark on every inch of her. As soon as I toss the shorts and panties behind me, I grip onto her knees and spread her apart. She has a small strip of strawberry-blonde hair leading right to her slightly pink pussy. If massaging her clit gets it pink, I wonder if slamming into her until she screams will turn it red.
“I’m going to taste you now,” I murmur as I lean forward to inhale her. Sweet. So fucking sweet.
“Are you sure?” she questions, her perfectly plucked eyebrows pinched together in concern. “Dec used to always say it was weird. You don’t have to. I promise.”
I curl up my lip and glare at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Dec was either gay or fucking stupid to pass up feasting on this pretty pussy.”
Her neck turns bright red and she fights a grin. I wish she’d smile more often. Her smiles light up the whole damn room. With a crooked grin of my own, I lean forward to bring my mouth to her wet cunt. She lets out a shocked gasp the moment my tongue slides along the seam. Her hands abandon her breasts and thread into my hair.
“I want you to tell me what feels good. Be vocal, babe,” I instruct, my breath tickling her most sensitive place. She lets out a mewl but it sounds like one of understanding. I begin worshipping her with my mouth. Slow teases with my tongue. Nibbles with my teeth.
“T-There,” she stammers out, clutching my hair. “Right there.”
I suck on the place that she’s indicating and watch her buck like a wild stallion beneath me. One quick glance up at her face tells me she’s lost to the sensations. I love how free she looks. The poor woman is so caught up in this world she’s built for herself that she’s forgotten how to live. Right now, she’s fucking living.
When she starts to come down from her high, I pop off her clit with a vulgar sound and then climb over her tiny body. With one hand resting near her head, I use the other to unbutton my jeans. I have no patience to fully undress. I just want inside of her so bad it hurts. Once I’ve freed my heavy cock, I give it a quick stroke and tease her soaked opening. She lets out a garbled plea begging me to hurry.
As soon as I begin to push into her, I know I’m going to have to go slow. She’s so fucking tight and I’m too damn big. I’m afraid if I slam into her like I want, I’ll rip her in two.
“Harley…” she whimpers, blazing green eyes on mine.
“That’s it, babe,” I rumble, “nice and slow. Relax for me.”
She lets out a gasp and widens her legs. It’s just enough for me to slide deeper into her. Once I’m settled in her tight depths, I grin at her.
“I could come, just like this,” I admit with a chuckle. “Your cunt is clenching around me and it feels so fucking good.”
She beams at me and I swear I’m almost blinded by how beautiful she is. “You have no filter.”
I slide my palm around her throat and smirk. “You like it.”
When she doesn’t argue, I know it’s true. I may not fit in her suit world of hoity-toity assholes, but she wants me there anyway. My thrusts thus far have been slow and gentle. I’m attempting to get my dick nice and wet with her juices before I fuck her into tomorrow. As soon as the sliding in and out isn’t so difficult, I pick up my pace. Naturally, my grip on her throat tightens. I don
’t know what it is about her, but I love holding her pale neck. She’s so tiny and fragile. I love that she trusts me to contain my strength. Not once when I’ve touched her this way tonight, with my hand around her pretty neck, has she flinched or resisted. She seems to enjoy a little choking. Well that makes two of us.
I squeeze her a little tighter before pressing my lips to hers. Her breathing is labored, but she still kisses me as though she’s starved for it. I feed her mouth my tongue and her cunt my throbbing dick.
“There, there,” I growl. “Take it all. I’m giving you all of me. I want you to take all of it.”
She gasps and nods. Her small hand grips my wrists and with a squeeze, she urges me to hold her tighter. I deepen our kiss as I clutch her throat. My hips piston into her harder and harder, drawing out needy moans in the form of ragged rasps from her. Her body goes limp beneath mine as her breath is stolen from her. If I let go now, she’ll miss out on one helluva orgasm.
“Almost there,” I promise, my lips hovering over hers. “Give me what I want, Taylor.”
My words send her over the edge because a second later and her impossibly tight cunt is strangling my cock. I let out a grunt of surprise before draining my climax into her hot, receptive body. Her body shudders with aftershocks of an intense orgasm, all the while sucking every last drop from my cock. When her body goes still, I release her throat and slide my hand down over her tit. Our eyes meet and I feel the connection. Thick and unbreakable. Her green eyes flicker with a need that goes beyond sex. She needs me to be her strength so she doesn’t have to.
I’ll carry her through hell’s flames if that’s what she wants.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she utters, her eyes fluttering closed.
Smirking, I pull out of her. Our juices run out all over her perfect couch. Taylor lies there completely relaxed. The woman is always so wound tight, it’s kind of nice seeing her so calm. I quickly pull my pants up and then scoop her up from the sofa. So much for talking.
The tiny little thing with her rosy cheeks and messy hair reminds me of a sleeping fairy. Like I found her in the woods and she now belongs to me. My feelings of possession over her are quite different from other women from my past. Maybe because she’s so small and I want to protect her? Maybe because she smells too damn good? Maybe because she’s a hardass with a soft heart hiding beneath?
“You ready for bed, pixie?” I question as I strut toward her bedroom. I’ll be damned if I sleep alone in the guest room another night. No, tonight I’m locking this little vixen in my arms and not letting go.
“Pixie?” Her eye peeks open and she smiles. Such a cute smile. She likes it.
“You know,” I chuckle. “Forest fairy. You’re even naked. Those fairies like to prance around in the nude.”
She lets out a sweet laugh. Like tinkling bells. “How do you know so much about fairies?”
“I have three nieces,” I tell her as I set her on her immaculately made bed.
Her sculpted brows pull into a frown. “I don’t know anything about you. I’m a terrible wife.” She chews on her bottom lip in a thoughtful way and makes no moves to cover her supple body. My dick is already at half mast and rearing to go, but I’ve yet to clean us up from the first romp.
“We were supposed to talk about that, but then you wanted my dick inside you,” I tease as I walk into her bathroom that adjoins her bedroom. Once I wet a cloth and make it back over to her, she’s passed out. I clean her first before cleansing myself. Then, I shut off all the lights in the condo. When I make it back to the room, she’s still sleeping naked in the same position I left her.
She weighs nothing, so I easily pull the comforter and sheet out from beneath her and then cover her. I slide into the bed beside her and practically haul her on top of me. It wasn’t but five months ago I had Barb in my arms. I’d loved that woman so goddamned much. We’d even had a pregnancy scare at one point. The prospect of being a father was both alarming and exciting. It turned out to be negative. I was disappointed. Barb was relieved. Looking back, I don’t think I could have been certain it would have even been mine. The fact she was sleeping around behind my back royally fucked me in the head. I can deal with a lot of shit, but unfaithfulness isn’t one of them.
I don’t share.
At all.
Taylor’s small hand slides across my hairy chest and settles on my abs. After Barb and I split, I spent way too much time at the gym. Even here at Taylor’s, I use her home gym nearly the entire time she’s at the studio. According to my contract, I’m not allowed to work. I’m a fucking stay-at-home husband. If that isn’t emasculating, I don’t know what is. I mean, I make money doing it from the network, but I still hate it. New York is such a far cry from Canada. I miss the quiet. I miss hunting. I miss my brother and his family.
Her phone rings from the diary room where she left it and I wince. I hate that goddamned phone. Those people control every aspect of her life. It was nice to see her forget about it all and focus on what she wanted.
Me.
I hug her tighter to me as I drift off. This may not look as pretty in the morning to her, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’ve tasted her. I’ve fucked her. And now I won’t slink back into the shadows of her life. We can be good together. I’ll just have to convince her.
She slides her leg across my middle and makes a soft moan in her sleep. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep sporting a big hard-on tenting the sheets. I’m tempted to wake her up with my dick inside her, but the poor woman doesn’t chill out much. She finally seems at peace and I don’t want to disturb that, no matter what my dick says.
We have the rest of our lives…
Right?
* * *
I wake with a pounding headache and a bear mauling me. The heavy giant, otherwise known as my husband, has me pinned to the mattress beneath his sleeping form. I’d be lying if I said my heart doesn’t do a little flop.
He slept with me.
All night.
Dec always fucked and left. Claimed he had an early day the next day. Left me empty and used.
But Harley?
He’s got me gathered in his possessive grip as though I might slip away from him while he sleeps. His scent is addicting and I find myself just smelling him for a good five minutes. Woodsy. Clean. So Harley.
My alarm starts chiming from the other room and I cringe. Last night I got way too drunk and let my guard down. Harley and I fucked. The stupid smile on my face is wiped right off when I realize where we fucked.
“No…”
Ice freezes my veins as realization fully awakens me. Harley is still out of it, so after some wiggling, I manage to slip from his grip. I’m all but running to the bathroom to grab my robe. I’ve barely wrapped it around me by the time I take off to the diary room.
No.
The room looks like a tornado hit it. My clothes are everywhere. Blood dots the furniture and carpet. And my wine debris is all over the end table. My T-shirt hangs from the diary cam.
Shit!
Half the lens is revealed.
Maybe it was just enough to cover up what we were doing. If not, that means I just had sex in front of millions of viewers. The diary cam is live online.
Oh God.
My phone starts ringing again. I’m horrified when I see it’s Declan calling through. I send it to voicemail and sift through all his text messages. I scroll up and start from the beginning, right after I called his cock an Abe Lincoln.
Jesus, I fucked up.
Dec: You don’t have to be a bitch, Taylor.
Guilt sluices through me. Dec was my on-again-off-again lover before this show and I called his penis mediocre. I am a bitch.
Dec: The blood is graphic but the hero bit where he carried you off is fantastic!!
Dec: Way to soften up the big-ass lumberjack.
Dec: Tay! Look at your phone! CALL ME NOW.
Dec: GODDAMMIT PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON.
Dec: You’re lett
ing someone finger you on camera?!?!
Dec: I can’t get you out of this one…CALL ME NOW.
Dec: CALL ME NOW, TAYLOR!
Dec: We disconnected the feed.
Dec: But not before he had his face between your thighs. Jesus, what have you done?
Dec: Management wants to talk to you after the show tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if they let you go for breach of contract. You do remember the fine print?
I’d been so wrapped up in being the center of Harley’s world for a night that I’d totally ignored everything around me. I don’t even remember my phone ringing. My phone buzzes again.
Dec: Ahh, so she wakes. You sent my call straight to voicemail. Well, I hope you’re reading this. You FUCKED up. Big time. Leave the caveman at home and get your ass to the studio. We have major damage control to do. We need to talk about how you’re going to address the audience for your indiscretions.
I blink away the tears, but I realize there are too many. In one heated, careless moment, I may have thrown away my entire career. I’m sick to my stomach.
With a sob loud enough to wake the dead that I desperately try to hold in, I run to the bathroom. I don’t vomit, but I feel as though it’s imminent. Quickly, I start the shower and shed my robe. I’ve just stepped under the warm spray when strong hands grip my hips. My body betrays me and I sink back against his firm chest. His arms wrap around me, hugging me tight.
“What’s wrong?” he questions in a soft, concerned tone.
It makes me cry harder. “Everything.”
He twists me in his arms and walks me backwards until my back hits the cold tile. I shiver as the tears roll out. His massive palms cradle my cheeks as he bores his gaze into me. The liquid chocolate in his eyes calms me a little.
“Tell me what’s upset you. Was it us? Because, babe, I thought it felt really fucking right.”