Mistletoe Marriage

by Vanessa Vale

  The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, but Garrett only lifted his head a small distance and I could feel his warm breath fan my face. “That is why I'm marrying you, precious. Because I love you and want to show you how much.”

  Besides the heat of the kiss, a feeling of happiness filled me. He loved me. Garrett loved me. “I...I love you, too.”

  He kissed me again, this time briefly and chastely, but I could feel his smile. “I should have kissed you beneath mistletoe, as the stories say, but I couldn't wait a moment longer.” He ran a finger down the length of my nose. “While I might gain all of Simpson's worldly possessions along with you, I don't want it. I don't want any of it. It seems I came out the victor in our long battle.”

  I thought of the awful man. “I wouldn't normally like to hear about someone being so spiteful, but in this case it is most deserved.”

  “I only want you, Julia.” His voice now had lost the sharp edge.

  “The things he said about me, that he told to the townspeople, Garrett, it's awful.”

  He stiffened beside me. “Simpson spread rumors that he touched you?”

  I shook my head. “No. That you did. He said you took my virtue and then left town.”

  Piano music drifted from the church. I recognized the music as a Christmas carol.

  “If we're to be shunned for doing all those wicked things, precious, don't you want to at least actually do them?”

  That gave me pause. “With you, yes.”

  “Hell, yes. With me. Only me.” He sighed. “I haven't done this properly, Julia, and for that I'm sorry.” His hand came up and stroked over my cheek. How his palm could be so warm, I had no idea. “Will you marry me?”

  Tears filled my eyes, this time with joy. This was the man who I'd hoped—dreamed—would say those words. This was the man I'd hoped to marry me the first time. But that didn't matter now. Nothing mattered but the one simple word I uttered in reply.

  “Yes. Oh yes.”

  ***

  As owner of the town's mine, Garrett's house should have been as grand as Mr. Simpson's. It wasn't. In fact, it was quite small. I didn't care if we spent the night in the stable like Mary and Joseph had, I just wanted to be with Garrett. When we reached the front door, Garrett swung me up into his arms and carried me over the threshold, kicking the door shut with his foot behind us.

  “Why didn't we stay for the Christmas Eve service as Reverend Smith asked?”

  Garrett had led me into the church. For the second time in a day I was to be a bride. But this time as Garrett’s bride, his forever. As we waited for the minister to begin, his wife plucked a small bundle from the garland decorating the church benches and placed it in my unwavering hands—a small nosegay of evergreen and mistletoe. I thanked her with a quick nod. Yes, I was to be a bride.

  Again.

  It was a quick ceremony, but this time I was marrying the man I wanted and I did not mind. Instead of remaining for the holiday program, Garrett had led me home with a quickness to his step.

  “Because I don't want to share you with anyone. Because I've waited long enough to make you mine.” He didn't lower me in the foyer as I anticipated, but instead carried me directly up the stairs and into a bedroom. His bedroom. Our bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed with me in his lap, taking my hands in his.

  “They're cold,” he commented, rubbing his thumb over my palm. “I'll warm you. I promise.”

  His dark eyes held mine. Only a few hours earlier, I'd longed for such a moment. I'd ached to be in Garrett's strong arms, his face close enough for me to reach up and touch, to feel the softness of his whiskers and the hard angle of his jaw beneath my palm. His scent, a mixture of wintergreen and pine, filled my senses. This was the first time we'd ever been alone, that he'd held me so intimately. We were wearing our coats and he couldn't have taken liberties with me with so many layers between us even if he wished to.

  There was nothing preventing us from removing our coats and clothing and touching each other, kissing each other and doing more. Not even Garrett's honor. He'd held fast to his beliefs and now we were married. Now, he could do to me all the things he'd whispered, all the things Simpson had said we'd done. It was Garrett's words, those tawdry and very intimate words had kept me up at night, tossing and turning in my lonely schoolteacher's bed.

  “Garrett, you...you promised,” I murmured.

  He began to unbutton my coat. “Oh? Promised what?”

  I glanced up at his face, but he kept his eyes on his hands' motions.

  “All those things you said you'd do to me once we were married.”

  Those words had the effect I wanted. His fingers stilled and he looked at me. He smiled and his dimple formed. “What did I say that appealed to you the most?”

  I felt my cheeks heat and I squirmed in his lap.

  “Come now, don't be shy. I'm your husband and soon—very soon—we will have no secrets between us.”

  “I...I want to see you. I know you'll go inside of me, but I want to see how...how big you are.”

  “Keep shifting like that and you'll feel how big I am.”

  I stilled at his words and recognized the hard length pressing into my thigh for what it was. “Oh,” I whispered.

  Taking me by the hips, he lifted me up to stand between his spread knees. “Let's get you out of this coat.”

  With deft fingers, he finished with the buttons and had the heavy outer garment off of me easily enough. He tossed it onto the chair behind me.

  “Your turn,” I told him. He arched one dark brow but did as I bid, removing his coat as well.

  “You're curious about my cock, precious?”

  I bit my lip and nodded, glancing down at the front of his pants and seeing a thick bulge. Mr. Simpson had not shown anything of the sort. Garrett must have read my mind, for he said, “I'll only speak of Simpson briefly and only to make you understand. While my cock is hard for you while—from what you said—Simpson's was not. He couldn't fuck you even if he wanted to. I'm always hard around you, precious. Always, for I want you too much and it's time I showed you.”

  Garrett undid his belt, and then opened the placket of his pants. I expected some kind of drawers or even long undergarments for extra warmth. Being such a big man, Garrett's body was always so warm that perhaps he didn't need them. Regardless, his...cock fell free unbidden.

  I now understood Garrett's words about Mr. Simpson, but I didn't care. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped, for it was nothing like I'd imagined and it bobbed of its own accord. Garrett took it in hand, holding it in a firm grip at the base, just above the dark nest of hair. “I'm glad to know this is the first—and last—cock you will behold.”

  “That...it will fit within me?” I doubted my hand would be able to grasp all the way around. It was long and at the top a flared, wide head that wept clear fluid.

  “You were made for my cock, precious. Soon enough, I'll fill your pussy. Someday, your ass. But now you can put it in your mouth.”

  I lifted my eyes from his cock and met his. “My...my ass?”

  He nodded slowly. “Someday,” he repeated.

  Someday. “You said you wanted me to put you in my mouth, but I didn't really believe you.”

  “Now do you?”

  I nodded and saw more fluid seep from him. I wanted to please him and looking at his rigid length, I was beyond curious. I was eager. Eager to feel him in my hand, to taste him on my tongue and to feel him in my mouth. I knew Garrett wanted this. His body was rigid and tense, not from anger as he had been with Mr. Simpson, but I recognized that this was from need. He needed me to touch him, to take him into my mouth. My mouth watered not just at the idea of learning Garrett's body, but pleasing him as well.

  “I don't know what to do. Shouldn't I take my clothes off? I know things are done that way.”

  “I'll fuck you with your clothes on often enough. Tonight, you'll be bare to me so I can see every inch of you. For now, you'll keep them on or I won't last.”


  He placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pressed down.

  “Last?” I asked as I went onto my knees. His cock was directly before me and I looked up at Garrett through my lashes.

  “This is a sight I've only dreamed of.” He directed me with the tilt of his chin. “Lick me, learn me with your tongue.”

  Garrett leaned back on the bed, his hands behind him propping him up. I lowered my head and flicked out my tongue, lapping at the tip, tasting him for the first time. His hips bucked up and he hissed. I glanced up at him in worry.

  Shifting, he cupped the back of my head in one hand and stroked my hair. “Don't stop.”

  After that, I did as instructed and licked over the wide crest, tasting him, the salty flavor of him pungent on my tongue. I slid my tongue around the ridge that encircled it, then along the pulsing veins that ran down his thick length.

  “Grip me,” he said, his voice rough.

  Glancing up at him, I saw that he was watching me through a half lidded gaze. With my right hand, I took hold of him, and as I'd suspected, he was too big to close my hand about. Surprisingly, he was soft to the touch, yet beneath, hard as rock. I moved my hand along his length, savoring the feel of him and he hissed again. Beneath my free hand, I felt his thigh muscle tighten.

  “Perfect, precious. Take me into your mouth as you move your hand.”

  I did as he bid, the broad head filling my mouth. The hand at the back of my head tightened and he tugged me gently forward, guiding me without words further onto his cock. He was so big that there was no chance I could take all of him into my mouth.

  When his hand began to direct me in earnest, I stopped moving and allowed Garrett to guide me on and off his cock as he desired. This was his time, his pleasure, and I wanted to give it to him.

  “I'm going to fuck your pussy like I'm fucking your mouth, precious. Only deeper and harder.” He was breathing hard and his usual male scent became stronger, more intense. Knowing I could reduce this strong, brave man to one lost to his desires was a very powerful sensation for me. “It's too sweet. You're too good at this. I'm going to come in your mouth and you're going to swallow my seed. Then I'll be able to tend to you all night long.” He groaned at shifted his hips up off the bed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JULIA

  “You're going to...what?” I asked.

  I held on to his arm as he escorted me home from school.

  “Make you come,” he replied.

  I glanced left and right, but there was no one about, at least no one close enough to hear our illicit conversation.

  “I don't know what you mean.”

  He arched a brow. “You've never touched yourself before?”

  “Where?” I glanced up at him.

  “Your pussy. Have you ever played with your pussy?”

  The December air was bitterly cold, but Garrett's words were warming me.

  I shook my head. “How do I do that?”

  “I won't tell you now. It will be a treat for me to see you come the first time.”

  ***

  “Yes, Julia. So good.” A guttural sound escaped his throat as I felt him swell inside of my mouth. His body stiffened beneath me as hot liquid landed on my tongue and slid down my throat.

  “All of it love, just keep swallowing,” he groaned.

  I had no idea what to expect, nor how much, and his seed was copious. Pulse after pulse of it coated the inside of my mouth and I had no choice but to do as he said and continue to swallow it all. His fingers gripped my scalp tightly as he succumbed to his release. I’d done this to him. I’d made him come, as he'd called it. Not some whore from the brothel, not some experienced widow he might have bedded in the past to slake his manly needs. Me, the sheltered virgin. His wife. It might have been his honor to maintain my virtue as we'd courted, but now, now I wanted to be on my knees before him with his cock in my mouth, swallowing his thick seed. I wanted to be the experienced whore. For him and only him.

  When the pulses ceased, I looked up at Garrett. His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. I slipped off his cock and used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, removing the remnants of his release from my lips. Waiting quietly, I let him recover and I assessed my own body. I was not in the least bit cold; in fact, I was overheated in my wool dress. My nipples were tight peaks against my corset and between my legs, I was very wet and achy. My entire body ached—no, craved—what only Garrett would show me. I might be an innocent, but that didn't mean I was mild. I, too, had been waiting for just this moment when all my curiosity, all my tampered desire, could come to the fore.

  I came up off my knees and stood once again between his knees. I didn't wait for Garrett to recover to work the buttons of my dress free, one at a time. As I stood, his eyes opened and he watched me. His eyes were impossibly dark, almost black. His cheeks were flushed and while he'd found his release, I knew that he was not finished. Good, for I had need of him. I pushed the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms, shimmying my hips so the dress slid down to the floor.

  While Garrett didn't wear anything beneath his clothing, I did. “You're my Christmas present.” He pushed off his hands and sat upright, my breasts directly in line with his face. “I look forward to unwrapping you.”

  “I got you a new belt,” I said, remembering it was packed in with my clothing that had been placed by the front door of the schoolteacher's house. With Miss Simpson moving in, I had no doubt my belongings were outside buried beneath several inches of snow.

  Garrett slowly shook his head. “While that is a very nice present, you are gifting me with something so much greater.”

  I frowned in confusion.

  “Your gift is between your luscious thighs, somewhere beneath all of this petticoat and stockings.”

  “You...you can perform again so readily?”

  I glanced down at his cock, which was now once again fully hard. It had softened slightly within my mouth, but that had been a temporary state. Was it always hard like this? How could the man walk, let alone sit a horse with that hard rod between his legs?

  “With you before me? Absolutely. You do not object to me removing your clothes?”

  The idea of Garrett's big hands on me had me shaking my head. While I appreciated his gentlemanly question, I was beyond being offended. “Only if you do not hurry.”

  With fumbling fingers, we both worked at my undergarments. As I unhooked my corset before tossing it behind me, Garrett undid the strings of my petticoat, then my drawers. “Step out. Now, put your foot here,” he directed, patting his thigh.

  He removed my boot and then pulled at the tiny ribbon at the top of my stockings. With slower motions, he slid the stocking down my leg and dropped it onto the floor. I put my foot down. When patted his other thigh, I let him do the same with the other leg, but instead of releasing me, he grasped my bare ankle firmly.

  I stood before him in just my shift and with my leg up. The soft cotton rode high on my thigh. Garrett's eyes raked over my body, from my pale shoulders to the upper swells of my breasts not covered by my shift, then lower still. The hand at my ankle slid along my calf, then over my thigh to push the chemise up further. His jaw clenched tightly. I knew he could see me there. Inside, I clenched down and I felt a pulse of some dark and delicious heat I never knew before.

  I held my breath in anxious anticipation of what Garrett would do. His hand was close, so very close to touching me there and I shifted my hips with the hopes of even just his fingertips grazing me. Taking the hem of my shift, I lifted it up, just enough for him to truly see me.

  He sucked in a breath as he looked his fill, then glanced up at me. “You're a brazen little hussy,” he murmured, and said more with endearment than chastisement.

  “If it gets you to touch me, then yes. Yes, I am.”

  He grinned, and then ran a finger through my curls at the apex of my thighs. “Spread your legs.” I obeyed. “Don't lower your shift.”

  That one finger d
ipped lower and over my folds, stroking over one, then back up the other. It was my turn to hiss out a breath and I began to lower my hands.

  Garrett's hand retreated. “Ah, ah,” he gently scolded. “Do you want me to touch you again?”

  I nodded fervently. My lips were parted and I was breathing in little pants through my mouth. Glancing down, I could see my nipples furled tightly and outlined against my shift. “Keep your shift lifted because I want to see my pussy.”

  I loved the possessive tone to his voice and when he resumed his ministrations, my head fell back and I closed my eyes. Wherever his finger touched, it was like fire. It was all sizzling sensation. I knew I was wet and he moved over me with ease. When he flicked over the bundle of nerves that offered unbridled pleasure, I gasped and reached out with one hand and gripped his shoulder. Surely I wouldn't be able to stand if he continued, but neither did I wish him to stop.

  He began to touch me in earnest; perhaps at first he was just testing me to see my reaction. One finger became two and he parted my lower lips and began to learn every inch of me just as he’d promised. When his fingertips circled my untried entrance, my hand lowered and because of this, he removed his entirely.

  I groaned in frustration. Instead of holding the shift up, I yanked it up and over my head, the impediment now added to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. Garrett's hand didn't return, It wasn't because he was being intentionally neglectful, but because he was looking his fill at my naked body.

  “Holy hell, precious. I had no idea.”

  Just his gaze on me had my flesh heating, my body readying for his cock, which now stood proudly at attention. “Garrett, please,” I begged.

  His fingers returned and I sighed, but when he leaned forward and his mouth closed over my nipple, I jerked in surprise. His arm banded about my waist and held me securely in place.