Duched (Duched #1)

by Xavier Neal

  Brie beams up at me. “The cake my dad bought, right?”

  “Yes love, the one your father bought. However, in case anyone doesn't like chocolate-”

  “Who doesn't like chocolate?!”

  “Those people exist,” I insist with a smirk. “I've got carrot cake and a few other treats.”

  Brie instantly gags. “Carrot cake? That's not even cake! That's like vegetable bread.”

  “Who hates carrot cake?!”

  She immediately raises her hand and I swat it down.

  Terrible taste in food sometimes.

  “You two are perfect for each other,” her sister, Candice sighs. “You're equally stubborn.”

  The party members begin to gather at the table on the opposite side of The Silver Tap Pub where the servers are setting up cake alongside other desserts. While the place is filled with an array of people ranging from her cousins to her friends who weren't graduating today, we wind up at a table consisting of those she's closest to.

  With my arm loosely draped around the back of her chair, I enjoy embarrassing art mishaps from her youth told in tandem by her parents. She squirms. She blushes. She disagrees yet never insists they stop exposing her past to me. She allows me the opportunity to accept her for her as a whole, and not just the parts she's proud of. With every passing story, the desire to ask her the question I've been holding onto for weeks increases.

  She has to say yes...I know I told Hugh I'd be fine if she didn't, but I lied. I'll be devastated if she says no.

  After a playful topic change to favorite foods, which Hugh and Dana join us for, I dismiss myself to pay for the meal, tip the waitresses and load her graduation gifts into the back of the SUV with the help of my best friend and Swiss. Brie meets me outside just as we finish up to let me know people are starting to leave. We spend the next thirty minutes letting people coo over her accomplishment and thanking them for joining us. By the time we've managed to make it home ourselves, she's an exhausted mess of smiles and giggles.

  Her body hits the edge of the king-sized bed in my penthouse. “Thank you again for the party, Kellan! It was amazing...”

  I remain standing while she kicks off her heels. “Almost as amazing as my gift.”

  “You mean the La Dega painting above our bed?”

  Yes, I caved and bought her one of the pieces of art when we had that private tour. I wanted the bloody thing to hang in her apartment, so I didn't have to stare at it constantly, but the fact is we spend almost every night here making it a much more logical place. I don't have feeling for it one way or another, but she was over the moon to have it.

  “No. That was just something I bought for you to have.”

  “But you said-”

  “I said what I needed to say in order for you not to be angry I was purchasing it.”

  She gives me a small glare followed by a curious look. “So...You're telling me you got me another gift?”

  “It's your graduation, of course I got you another gift, love.” A deep exhale escapes at the same time I remove the small box from my pants pocket. My voice tries to hide it's tremor. “I hope you like it.”

  Brie silently stares at the small velvet box extended her direction. Her eyes lift, revealing their bewilderment. She gives me one hard look before taking the offering. Nervously, I watch as she tugs at the ribbon and slowly opens it. “It's a locket.”

  Yes. Just a locket. Relax. As much as I wanted that to be an engagement ring I know I should probably wait until we at least reach the six-month mark. That's only a couple weeks away, might I add.

  Brie carefully removes the white gold heart shaped necklace. I continue to admire her while she examines it, noticing the B on the front for her and the K on the back for me.

  It's got a cursive engraving made out of tiny diamonds. Soph helped me decide which one. Thank God she did. I realized that day I knew absolutely nothing about women's jewelry. Shocking, isn't it? I can easily pick out an outfit that would put some of the best stylists to shame yet couldn't last an hour surrounded by seas of diamond encrusted broaches.

  When she finally opens it to the picture, I state, “I lost that day.”

  She giggles at the photo and then up at me. “You lost to a girl.”

  “I did.” My face tries to hide its lingering insecurity. “I lost to you, but I never want to lose you.” The puzzled look returns and I continue. “My lease is up in a couple of weeks. I plan to renew it regardless of your answer, so that you have a home and I have a place in the states for when I have opportunities to return, but I'm needed back in Fayweather. I've got family obligations I can't break and a few business meetings to attend with potential investors for the program.” Just as her face begins to fall, I announce, “I want you to come with me. I want you to meet my overbearing brother and sassy sister in law. I want you to see the country that I grew up in. See why it's better than yours.”

  Brie hits me with a stern expression.

  “Fine. You're right. It's almost better than yours. After all, the states have you.” She flashes me a smile and I sigh, “I understand if you say no, but at least consider it. We could travel along the coast like we talked about. You could check out the galleries there. Perhaps find somewhere you want to work. At the very least you could enjoy your first real summer. One filled with a vacation and sunshine and reveries.” The moment I see longing beginning to blossom I finish, “If you say yes, if you come home with me, if you let me introduce you to the rest of my world, money is no object of your concern. Whatever you want, wherever we go, is yours and would be your true graduation gift.”

  Stillness spreads in the room rapidly, taking my breath prison in the process. For what feels like an eternity she doesn't move nor does she speak. The silence reaches deafening levels, and I quickly realize I have my answer.

  I attempt to swallow my sadness. “It's alright, love, if you say no. Nothing will change between us. It'll take more than a few weeks of distance to tear me away from you.”

  “Could we come back to visit if I got too homesick?”

  Her question sparks hope. “Of course.”

  Another lull of quietness occurs before she says, “Then yes.”

  Disbelief darts down my throat. “Yes?” She nods slowly and I question once more. “As in actually yes?”

  “Is there a different kind of yes?” The snark in her tone frees the remaining anxiety. “Now, could you come over here and snap this thing on already? I wanna see how it looks.”

  With a sweet smirk, I state, “Don't be pushy. It's your graduation day not your birthday.”

  She sasses back as she extends the jewelry for me. “I'm sorry, do you want me to come fly across the world to be with you?”

  “Not even half way around the world,” I correct, lowering myself to the bed. “And it's too late now. You've agreed. No turning back.”

  She giggles at the same time I clasp the necklace around her neck. Brie angles her face to allow our lips to mesh in esuriency. Overwhelmed with appreciation for the sacrifice she will be making by leaving everything she knows behind to join me in my required endeavors, my mouth romantically ravishes hers while we fall backwards onto the bed. Our tongues take turns teasing one another while her fingers greedily grope my lower abs underneath my shirt dress shirt. Her hands begin to paw at my pants in unison with her whimpers until my own hunger becomes too much to bare. In a swift motion, I undo my belt and allow her warm grasp to graze my boxer brief covered cock. A deep groan sticks to the back of my throat, forcing me to accelerate the speed of my own undressing. As soon as I'm done, I yank up her lavender sundress and quickly discard the delicate fabric standing between me and the only thing capable of making her verbal agreement to go back with me even sweeter. Unable to wait any longer, my cock guides itself to gormandize on the most delectable treat known to man. Another harsh growl is grabbed as my dick attempts to savor every single smothering sensation. The way Brie's pussy fits so snug around my shaft, there's no denying that sh
e belongs to me. That I belong to her. That together is the only way we should ever be. My hips fervidly buck, completely callous to the idea of dragging this memorable moment long into the night. Brie's nails bite into my biceps while her bottom lip slips between her teeth, silently begging for more. Her own hips harshly rock upward causing me to thrust faster. Pound savagely. The two of us tumble into what feels like a ceaseless cycle of passionate pumps met with sharp arches of her brazen body.

  With the faintest warning, her orgasm shatters forcing her lips to fumble from mine, “God Kellan!”

  Brie's pussy wildly pulsates. The pleasing pressure from her throbbing pussy shuts my eyes. Overpowered by the endless convulsing around my bare cock, I completely surrender and allow her body to milk me dry. Scorching surge after surge knocks into her withering climax while her mouth turns my name into an invocation only she has the right to say.

  Through our shared inability to breathe, I somehow manage to whisper, “I love you.”

  Her mouth struggles to return the words, but they don't have to.

  She never has to utter them again for me to know how she feels. There's something unspoken between us that has nestled itself past my heart and into the lining of my soul. This woman isn't just any woman. She's the only woman for me and there's not a damn thing in this entire world that could ever change that.

  Brie

  Kellan stretches out on the plush couch beside me with one arm tucked under his head and his feet in my lap. “Comfortable?”

  I give the interior of the plane another glance.

  It's basically a living room on wheels. We're lounging on a long white leather couch with black pillows and a coffee table in front of us where a throw blanket is folded. On the other side there's a set of matching recliners, each with a pillow and blanket stacked neatly in them. Towards the back of the plane is another leather couch currently being occupied by a drowsy flight attendant. Sandwiching that solo piece of furniture are two closed doors. One is the restroom facilities while the other is the kitchen. Yeah. That's right. He not only has his own plane with a damn living room, but one that includes a sky kitchen.

  Still tense despite the fact we've been in the air for an hour, I question, “Is this the plane you always fly in? Like the one your family owns?”

  “Jet.”

  “What?”

  “It's a jet not a plane.” When I scowl, he smugly answers, “And it depends. Sometimes it's this one. Sometimes it's the one with the bed. Really depends on what's available when I'm ready to leave and whose schedule might need the one with the sleep accommodations.”

  “And you just...jet off whenever you feel like it to...wherever you feel like it?”

  He shrugs. “Most of the time.”

  “What about the rest of your family?”

  “Kristopher and Soph hardly ever leave the country, so they typically use the smaller one that has only one couch-”

  “Smaller one? Your family has three planes?!”

  “Jets.”

  I swat at his leg.

  “Ou!”

  We all know that didn't hurt.

  With a playful expression, he nods. “Yes. We have three jets that vary in size and purpose. Typically I fly to the states, so I take this one. My father on the other hand is often required to fulfill numerous social responsibilities for weeks at a time making the one with the bed a more reasonable choice.”

  Disbelief causes me to shake my head. “These social responsibilities, is that all he does for a living?”

  Kellan's face unexpectedly hardens. “Now? Yes. When my mother was alive? No. She cared about more than outdated traditions and frivolous spending.”

  “You wanna hate on your father for frivolous spending? This from the guy who is wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit?”

  He glares. “I have expensive taste, that doesn't make me frivolous.”

  “That's like the definition of frivolous!”

  “No. Enjoying the benefits of a tailor fitted suit and a pair of Banini oxfords is one thing, buying the Duke of Lostengrenge a golf course for a wedding present is frivolous. That's the type of spending you do to remind others they are beneath you. That's the type of spending you do when you're purchasing your good deeds rather than actually practicing them. Once upon a time he lived alongside a woman whose sole purpose in life was to make a real difference. To actually enrich and treasure lives others had cast aside. I may not throw every penny I have into making sure the entire world is fed, but there isn't a day that passes, that I'm not trying to do more to help others who are simply too young to help themselves.”

  The tenderness mixed with blind infuriation in his speech shuts my lips tightly.

  I know almost nothing about his father. His brother, his brother's wife, his mother-rest her soul, are open topics. In fact, we talk so much about them some days it feels like I've spent the same amount of time with them as he has my family. While I've video chatted with Kristopher and Soph during a few of his calls and seen old photos of his mother that were posted online, his father is more like a fairy tale than anything else in his life. He's the king always behind a shut door. The king who seemingly appears only when he has to attend a wedding or yell at a prince for causing too much trouble. That's basically the extent of what I knew about him until this moment.

  “Think we can swing by the space you want to build your orphanage?”

  His face softens. “How do you know I have a space picked out?”

  “Because you've been dreaming about opening it for two years. Of course you have a space picked out.”

  He lets a full-fledged smile develop. “It's this quaint little area right outside of the city. It'd be a perfect place to allow them a field for sports, plus the housing area to be completely separate from the sleeping quarters.”

  “Is that a yes you'll show me?”

  “I'll consider it,” he teases with a wink. “That is if you do something for me.”

  “Like?” His eyebrows wiggle and I quickly shake my head. “No way! We're not alone.”

  “Come on,” he encourages with mirth in his tone. “Betty's practically already asleep and as long as we're quiet we won't be caught.” Kellan wets his lips slowly. “Don't you want to join the mile-high club?”

  I give him a sarcastic stare. “Aren't you already a member?”

  “Not on this jet.”

  My expression doesn't change.

  “Truth!” He exclaims. “I've had sex on planes and jets, but never the family one.”

  Excitement sparks, which causes me to smirk. “So...I'd be like your first time?”

  “On this particular jet. Yes.”

  “So...you're like a family jet virgin?” I snicker. “We're basically virgins together...Shouldn't we wait? Shouldn't we get to know each other in the sky a little better?”

  He lifts himself onto his elbows with a huff. “I am far from a virgin. Now, grab that blanket and climb on top of me, so I can prove that to you.”

  I giggle, follow his instructions, and cover the lower half of our bodies in the process.

  The moment I'm settled on top of him a small thought hits me. “Is this why you demanded I wear a loose dress to fly in? So you could screw me in the air?”

  Kellan cocks a grin. “I'm clever.”

  “You're arrogant.”

  His hand creeps up the back of my thighs to push me against his stiff cock. “I'm hard.”

  Extremely. Is it normal for a guy to be this fired up at the blink of an eye?

  Rather than continue the conversation, Kellan uses his other hand to tug me to his parted lips. Upon impact, I whimper, first from the force and then from the satisfaction of having our tongues in a lascivious link. A low growl seeps out from my attempt to take control of the kiss, yet he allows me. The unexpected surrender from his mouth is promptly explained by his hand palming my bare ass cheek. I attempt to pull back to free my stifled moans, but he anchors me to him, swallowing the salacious sounds like a fiend. The
combination of friction from his grinding hips and exerted control of my wriggling body, intensifies the ache in my pussy to the point I'm panting between brief breaks in kissing. Now pleased that he's transformed my body from wanting to needing, he relinquishes his grip on the back of my neck. In a swift, shameless execution, the two of us part just enough to dispose of lower restrictions and fuse together in a muted carnal cry. My body blankets his once more except this time my face is buried in the crook of his neck. Both of his hands greedily guide me by the ass to a slow, titillating rock. I abandon all care or concern with being heard and breathlessly sing his name during each voracious plunge.

  He smiles before he whispers, “You want to get caught?”