by Penny Wylder
I let a smirk slide onto my face solely for the purpose of watching her anger burn hotter and feeling the way she sways toward me. God, I want to kiss the anger off her face and let us get lost in another round of delicious, fiery hate sex.
But there are things we have to do first, and I’m not entirely sure that Rose won’t slap me if I touch her right now. So I just wink. “Come on, Wife. We have work to do.”
9
Rose
The fucking nerve of this man.
I never thought I’d be in the position of being blackmailed. Let alone married to my blackmailer and somehow unable to get my body in line with the idea that I hate him. Because about twenty seconds ago I was about to kiss him again and drag him to bed just to forget all of this. Because I know that he’d be able to make me forget it, even if he’s the cause.
I can’t believe I didn’t see what was happening, and I already feel stupid enough without my hand being forced again. I’m just…tired.
But I follow Asher as he walks me around the property and makes me take pictures of the way things currently are, and then stages photos to make it look like Blue Mountain is being almost ludicrously reckless with their guests’ safety. It’s exactly what my father wants, and nausea swims in my stomach.
I already gave him the list of places that I’d been and taken pictures, though I don’t have a clue what he wants to do with the information. At this point, I don’t even care. I’m screwed either way.
The set-up takes hours, and I’m spun between realities like whiplash. I’m still brutally attracted to this man even though I wish that I weren’t. Throughout all of this, he seems like he wants to be on my side. He’s kind and gentle in leading me through the set-up photos, and he seems like he regrets the fact that I was so taken in.
He can call it being duped, but I know the truth. I’m fucking naïve. I didn’t choose to see it because I was desperate. But this isn’t exactly a hard conclusion to come to if you actually look at what my father asked me to do.
So fucking stupid.
And yet, every time that Asher steps close to me to direct the angle of a photo or to pass me by, my body thrills. It’s like it can draw pleasure from the air merely by being in his proximity.
The sun is setting when I snap the last picture.
“That should do it,” Asher says.
“Good. Now can I go?”
He smirks. “If you want to.”
I level my gaze at him. “Why the fuck would I want to stay here?”
We’re standing near the archery range, absolutely no one in sight. Asher steps close, backing me against a tree until I’m pressed up against him. I hold back the moan that’s in my throat. There’s no way that I’m giving into this. No fucking way. But God he feels good.
“I think you want to stay here for the same reason that I want you to stay,” he says, lowering his lips against my throat. “We can make each other feel good, Wife.”
The way that he says ‘wife’ shouldn’t make me wet and wanting. The idea that he’s my husband shouldn’t make me arch my hips into his, feeling the way that he’s already hard. “I still hate you,” I say.
“Oh, you hate me?” His voice is pure amusement. “I didn’t realize that you did.”
“Of course I do. You’re blackmailing me.”
“You’re fucking right I am,” he whispers, drawing his hand up under my dress. Clever fingers slipping between my legs with no panties to stop him. For all I knew those were still laying shredded on the guest house floor. “And your body seems to like that.”
“My body has a lot of bad ideas.”
He smiles into my neck. “Bad ideas are relative, Rose.”
Asher slips a finger inside me, and then another. His thumb rests against my clit, rubbing back and forth far too gently and more than enough to make me moan. Almost enough to make me drip down his fingers.
“Spread your legs.” His voice is dark when he pulls back to look at me. No room for argument or protest—not that I want to. One touch and I’m already too far gone, and I move my feet farther apart.
He strokes inside me, finding that rough spot that makes me gasp. “Hmmm. Right there, huh?”
The tips of his fingers circling over that spot draws out pleasure from every place imaginable. It gathers and pools, coiling into a bright center spark that grows as he circles and circles and circles and thrusts. The cry that comes out of my mouth is lost in his, barely captured by the way his lips slant across mine. Just in time.
“Too bad we’re not near the stables,” he says quietly. “I’d have access to rope over there.”
I glare at him, anger surfacing briefly. “You’ve already got me trapped. You need to tie me up too?”
Asher’s mouth curves into a wicked smile. “I don’t need to.” He thrusts his fingers again, making me go blind. “I’ve already got you right where I want you.”
“Then why?”
His low laugh makes my pussy squeeze around his fingers in response. “Maybe I just like having you at my mercy.”
I try to move and I can’t, trapped by his body and his fingers, and his eyes locked on mine. “Seems like you’ve already got that without rope.”
Without response, he starts to fuck me with his hand, strong strokes directly into my g-spot that make my knees weak in seconds. Holy fucking shit, I can’t breathe. He’s going to make me come and I want it so fucking badly. I’m just a vessel for the pleasure that he’s pouring into me and I’m going to bubble over.
Asher’s mouth is hot on my skin, teeth grazing the lobe of my ear almost lazily, at odds with his hands. I’m torn between the two, suddenly gripping his shoulders in order to hold on. “The rope isn’t for me, Rose. The rope would be for you.”
I can’t focus. He’s making me feel too fucking good. “What?”
“You like me telling you what to do.”
“I do not.”
Everything stops, and Asher looks at me. “Oh, really? I told you that I was bossy. And last night when you dragged me back to my house practically ripping my clothes off, I think it was you who begged me to boss you around.”
Heat flushes up my face and neck. His words unlock the alcohol-soaked memory.
Us crashing into his bedroom, me already clinging to his neck and dying to taste him. Licking his skin. “Tell me what to do,” I begged. “Whatever you want.”
“You want that?” The words he spoke were ragged.
I was smiling and I leaned away so I could pull off my borrowed shirt. “You told me you were bossy. Prove it.”
And he had. Thoroughly. Over and over.
Right now, he sees the recognition in my eyes. “Remember?”
He doesn’t let me respond, moving inside me again. I’m on edge. So close that I’m about to fall apart, bright light behind my eyes ready to spin out of control. And then he pulls away.
“Oh fuck, please—”
“Seems like you might need a reminder.”
I shake my head. “No, I remember. I do.”
He smirks. “Prove it.”
My heart pounds in my chest, nerves and need and fury that he affects me this way. But I already know that I’m going to do this. I want him, and he wants me, and if this is the last time that I’m going to have this man, then I’m going to take advantage of it.
One more time can’t hurt. One last set of delicious orgasms before we part ways and we’re no longer married. “How?”
“Are you asking me to boss you around?”
The word is more moan than anything else. “Yes.”
In the fading light I see his eyes darken, and Asher doesn’t look away as his hands move to his belt. He undoes it slowly. Deliberately. Again, the thought that that motion is ridiculously hot. Sculpted hands moving with purpose. Readying themselves for me. I press myself back harder against the tree to keep myself from jumping him right this second.
“On your knees,” he says, and my stomach flips.
My husband. The
man keeping me trapped and helping me at the same time. The only person to ever make me feel like this. My knees sink and hit the grass without a conscious decision to do so, and I’m hit with another memory from last night.
Asher, standing over me just like this, eyes full of fire, whispering sweet things while I sucked him off. And after, him flipping me onto the bed so he could push more fully into my throat while he buried his head between my legs, sucking my clit in time with every thrust of his hips.
I came when he did, heat in my throat and in my pussy. The memory makes me dizzy. Especially with Asher’s cock in front of me now.
“Hands behind your back.” I put them behind me, locking them together, and Asher smiles. “If you still had your panties, maybe I’d tie your hands with those.”
Two bright spots of heat appear on my cheeks. Every word that he says drives me mad and brings me a little closer to letting go. I don’t know how he does it, but I can’t seem to get enough of him. Even if I never drink again, I’ll never mind being drunk on him.
“Open.”
Asher weaves his fingers into my hair, angling my head so he can slip his cock between my open lips. It’s delicious, perfect déjà vu. He groans, sinking deep and fast as far as I can take him. “Your mouth.” He curses low under his breath. “I could live with your mouth wrapped around me.”
The sound I make is muffled, and it sets off a chain reaction in my brain. My nipples are hard under my dress, my pussy somehow wetter than it was when his fingers were inside me. Pleasure unfurls in my core, growing and stretching. It makes me shiver.
His fingers tighten in my hair, making me look up at him. “Look at you.” The harsh whisper slips along my skin, raising goosebumps. “Go on. Prove you remember last night. Show me how you sucked my cock till it was fucking dry.”
I do.
Closing my eyes is the only way I can, otherwise I’ll be pinned by that gaze full of lust, wishing that there was more, more, and more. I suck hard, pulling back to just the tip of him, rolling my tongue underneath his head where I remember him losing his breath. I remember the sight of his abs contracting, forearms tensing, hands in fists.
I don’t remember exactly what I did with my mouth to get those sounds, I just remember joy. Pleasure. Happy that I was making him feel good and knowing that he was going to do the same for me. But his hands weren’t in my hair like they are right now. He didn’t direct me.
Yanking myself back off his shaft, I look up at him, licking my lips. There’s no turning back from this. We’re already here. “Show me what you want.”
One eyebrow raises. This part of him bloomed fully last night. He didn’t hold back, and I remember loving that. Why? I’d never been with anybody like this before. Why was it so…arousing?
“If you want that, Rose, you need to tell me exactly what you want.”
I swallow, breath going short. Admitting it—asking for it is so much harder than just letting him take it. And he knows that. But it also makes sure that I want every bit of it.
And I do.
I have to swallow again before I find my voice. “I want you to fuck my mouth the way you want to.”
His hands tighten in my hair. “I’m going to do that, and you’re going to swallow every drop I give you. Then I’m going to fuck you against this tree where anybody can see us, and I’m not going to stop until you come loudly, no matter who sees us.”
Heat rolls through my body like I’ve been shoved into a fire. Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t want it. I shouldn’t, but I do. In response, I close my eyes and open my mouth, surrendering completely to this moment.
Asher grips my hair and presses the tip of his cock into my mouth. “You’re a surprise, Rose Brandt. A good one.”
Flicking my tongue out, I lick him slowly. I don’t want any more words. I just want him.
He slips into my mouth, catching the drift. He pushes in and in and in until I can’t take any more of him without letting him into my throat. I’ve never done that before.
Firm, steady movements of his hips thrust into my mouth. His cock brushes across my tongue, the smooth hardness of him slowly driving me crazy. “Don’t stop sucking,” he orders in a low voice.
I obey, sealing my lips around him even while he’s moving, sucking him hard, and I’m rewarded with a low groan. “Your fucking mouth, Rose.”
Asher grips my head, holding me still as he starts to well and truly fuck my mouth. Deeper. Harder. Until every thrust is bobbing against the back of my mouth, and his breath is coming hard and fast.
The sounds he’s making, the way he’s taking everything, is so fucking hot that I’m squirming on my knees, wanting more. Pleasure is fizzing under my skin. Has anyone ever come from giving a blow job before? I wouldn’t hate that.
He pulls himself roughly out of my mouth and looks down at me, running a thumb over my lips. “Breathe.”
I haul in a breath, waiting, slipping deeper into this delicious heat and impossibility. This time Asher widens his stance, firmly pulling my mouth onto his cock. Slow, deliberate thrusts, rolling his hips, building faster.
For a moment I imagine what someone might see if they stumbled on us: Me, my dress messy and pulled too high over my thighs. Asher, hands gripping my hair, ruthlessly fucking my mouth. The mental image sends a comet of heat towards my clit.
He doesn’t stop, one long groan filling the space between us before he comes. Heat and salt and power filling my mouth. I seal myself around him in time to catch it all—his words echoing in my mind. And swallow I do. Every single bit, and I lick him clean while he watches, no less lust in his gaze than when we started.
Pulling me off the ground, he turns me against the tree and places my hands on the trunk. “Don’t move,” he says. “You all right with me pulling out?”
At this point, I’d be all right with pretty much anything, but I just say, “Yes.”
“Good.” Lining himself up with my pussy, he slams home, and the darkening woods go white with light behind my eyes.
Pure fucking bliss explodes, and it’s all that I can do not to scream. After being denied and teased, the orgasm grabs me and doesn’t seem to let go. Asher is fucking me hard. As hard as he did last night. Harder.
It rolls through me, over me, around me, fading into the background just to build over again as he moves. Faster.
Asher pushes my dress up farther, explores my ass with his hands. Squeezes and spanks. I gasp. Oh my God, who am I and what have I done with myself? I shouldn’t love this. Never imagined that I would. But it just shoves more impossible, incredible heat into my limbs. I tilt my head back, closing my eyes.
One of Asher’s hands slides around my throat, holding me there while his other one finds my clit. Oh. Oh, fuck I’m done for. “Please,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Say it louder.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Louder.”
“Please.” I force it out. It’s a normal volume now and I’m so close that I can’t even breathe anymore. But he just teases me. Fingers moving back and forth over my clit, keeping me hovering over the plunge and making my legs shake.
“Scream for me, Wife. Then I’ll let you come.”
There’s nothing in his tone that makes me think he’s joking. If I don’t scream and beg, he’ll pull away and let me go. And something about that is so fucking hot.
His fingers tighten ever so slightly on my throat, and I scream my pleas to the sky. I beg him, ignoring the fact that my voice is ringing through the trees.
And he moves all at once, synchronizing his hips and his fingers. I shatter all over again, dropping into the molten core of the earth and staying there. It’s a good fucking thing that I’m holding on to the tree because otherwise my legs wouldn’t hold me.
I’m drowning in this feeling. It’s like stepping on a live wire. Being wrapped in a power surge. Amazing.
Asher pulls out, heat splashing over my skin as he comes again, a low growl shivering across my sk
in. It’s base and feral and like nothing I’ve ever done. It seems appropriate that we’re outside in the near dark for this.
Reality sinks back in while we’re standing there breathing. The heat is fading, the cool, humid air of evening chilling my skin. There are fireflies in the trees and the sound of birds and the distant river.
He pulls my dress down over my ass, still covered in his cum, and steps back. Putting his cock away, he smirks when I turn to face him. “You’re free to go. But you’ll have to come back when you have what I want to give you the annulment.”
Cold, stark, truth hits me straight in the chest.
Asher is still blackmailing me.
No matter the chemistry and the pleasure that he just rained down on me, I’m still his hostage until he decides to let me out of this. Anger burns in my chest, and I shove past him. “Go to hell, Asher.”
He catches my arm before I get too far. “Not unless you’re coming with me, Rose.”
The kiss is rough. Deep and claiming. It’s not a kiss that I’ll ever forget in my life, even after we’ve gone our separate ways. That’s exactly what he wants it to be.
I shove myself away from him, barely managing not to run. Barely stopping to get my bag, I hurry to my car, not even stopping when Diana comes out of the lodge and calls to me. I ignore the look of hurt on her face when I turn away.
Maybe I can apologize to her some time, but I can’t stay here anymore. I have to get away.
As it is, I have to drive all the way home with Asher still on my skin. His taste still on my lips. His pleasure still humming in my veins.
The whole ride down the mountain I refuse to think about him. I won’t. I ignore him and his kiss and his commands until after I get home and take a shower. I scrub him from my body until I’m not imagining his hands on it anymore.
And I’m exhausted. I didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep on my wedding night. My wedding night.
But I force myself to sit down and email my father the pictures, careful only to include the ones that are rigged and not the ones that are real. He’ll be pissed when he finds out, but I’m pissed too. He shouldn’t have used me to hurt people. Especially not people like Asher.