by R. R. Banks
Instead of sneaking out to the parking lot to drink liquor. With the groom. Damn. Red flags.
“Marshmallow?”
I looked beside me and saw Hunter settling onto the log holding a stick. A glowing marshmallow was impaled on the end and I was fairly confident that it was going to burst back into full flames any second. Thank goodness we had gone for metal sticks rather than being authentic to my childhood campouts. I reached up and peeled off some of the molten marshmallow, quickly sucking it off of my fingers to soothe the stinging of it burning into my skin.
“Thank you, Mr.” I said.
“You’re welcome, Mrs.” he replied, smiling at me.
I never thought that I was going to be a “Mrs.” again. For a long time, it wasn’t something that I thought that I would ever want again. Now, though, it was all that I could need. Rather than being a label, a collar that kept me tied down, it was a sense of fulfillment. I watched with amusement as he struggled to pull off some of the marshmallow and get it into his mouth without it sticking to all of his other fingers and his clothes. He finally conquered the treat and I saw his eyes flicker quickly to the edge of the woods and then back to me.
“Did you notice?” he asked.
“What?” I asked.
He repeated the flicker with his eyes and I followed it, noticing a figure lingering in the trees just barely outside of the circle of light from the fire. It stepped forward and I could tell that it was a man just before I noticed that it was Gavin. He met my eyes and nodded, and I nodded back before he sank backwards into the darkness of the woods. I didn’t know where he was going, but I knew that it would be a long time before I saw him again, if I ever did. Though I hadn’t noticed him at the ceremony, it warmed my heart to know that he had been there. After everything that we had gone through together, even the worst, darkest moments, it felt like he needed to be there, as if to prove that everything was going to be alright.
Before he could say anything else, I noticed Noah and Snow walking up to us. We stood to talk to them.
“I think it’s about time that I get these two ladies home,” Noah said, gesturing toward Snow.
She looked down briefly and ran the hand that wasn’t holding Noah’s over her round belly. Though she was smiling I could see the exhaustion in her eyes and knew that she had had enough of the day. She was only a few weeks away from delivery and I knew that she needed her rest.
“Thank you for all everything,” I said, opening my arms to her.
“Of course,” Snow said, accepting my hug warmly. “Congratulations.”
We stepped away from each other and Noah scooped me into his arms.
“Love you, Auntie.”
“Love you, too, Honey.”
He gave me a tight squeeze and kissed my cheek.
“Be happy.”
I stepped out of his arms with a contented sigh.
Be happy.
“I will,” I promised him. I wrapped an arm around Hunter’s waist and leaned over to rest my head on his chest. “I will.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hunter
The final guest had left and the crew had gone back to scurrying around the woods removing all signs of the wedding so that by the time that they drove away it would look as though we had never been there. I was watching the carts driving toward the reception area when I heard footsteps coming up behind me. I turned and saw Eleanor walking toward me from the tent where she had gotten ready for the wedding. She had taken off of her gown and was now wearing a light pink dress with matching cardigan. Her hair had been brushed down from the style that she had been wearing during the ceremony and she had pulled it up into a ponytail at the back of her head to match the softer, more casual makeup that had replaced what had melted off in the rain during the ceremony. Though she had been a spectacularly beautiful bride, I felt myself drawn even more to her now. This was the woman I had fallen in love with.
I reached out and pulled her into my arms, giving her what felt like the millionth kiss of the night. I could have given her a million more.
“I’m going to have to find a new dry cleaner after leaving that gown with them,” she said.
“You should have just kept it the way that it was,” I told her.
“I should,” she agreed. “I could dry it out and put it in a shadow box to display in our house. Dirt streaks and all.”
“Are you ready to go to our luxurious honeymoon suite?”
She grinned and nodded, and we climbed into the decorated cart that she had used to get to the ceremony. It brought us deeper into the woods, past what had been the ceremony site and the reception, and through the thicker areas of trees until we reached the bank of a sparkling river. It was far wider than the one that we had enjoyed on the island, but the nearby waterfall was familiar enough that I couldn’t wait to revisit some of my favorite memories from those days we spent stranded together. I knew the water would be colder here, especially in the fall air, but that just meant that we would need to keep each other warm.
The “honeymoon suite” was meant to be a surprise for her and I had been working on it for weeks when she stumbled on the sketches and I had to reveal the plans to her. In a way, I was glad that she did, because she was able to bring my idea and connect me with the people to bring those visions into reality, along with a few extra little details that I never would have considered. Now as the treehouse came into view, I knew that there was no other place that I would want to be that night.
Built based on the same plans from our shelter on the island, the treehouse had been crafted out of more stable materials and offered features that we didn’t have, including a door, but it was still incredibly similar to the shelter that, even in the short time that we had spent there, I had come to think of as my first home with Eleanor. This created a nostalgic feeling as we approached and climbed up the rustic ladder to get to the small platform that led to the door to the shelter. I opened the door and then turned and swept my new wife into my arms to carry her over the threshold.
“You’re only supposed to do that in our first house,” she told me.
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’ll carry you over the threshold at every place we sleep until our honeymoon is over. And then again at our new house.”
Eleanor laughed and nodded.
“Sounds good to me.”
I carried Eleanor across the room and tossed her onto the bed that had been built on the far side of the treehouse. It looked dry despite the roof being made out of palm fronds, which meant that the same team that had gone to the extent to cover the campfire area had come here and protected the shelter during the rain. Eleanor pushed back to lay her head on the pillows piled at the head of the bed within the draped mosquito netting, but I grabbed her by her knees and pulled her back down the bed until she was at the very edge. Kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, I pushed her thighs apart and pressed them up so one leg draped over my shoulder as I pushed the other down to hold it open against the bed. I dipped my head forward and Eleanor cried out as my tongue slid through her hot, wet folds and focused the tip on the swollen bud at the top. She gasped, writhing against the bed as my mouth played across her, increasing the arousal that I could already taste.
I took my hand away from the leg that I had been holding to the mattress and flattened it on her stomach. I could feel her hands moving just above mine and I looked up to see her unbuttoning her sweater and peeling it away. I paused my attention long enough to allow her to slip the skirt of her dress under her hips, and then I leaned around her to unzip her dress. In an instant she was beautifully, delectably bare and she lay back again, obviously eager for more of the worshipful attention that I wanted to give her. I rested my hand back to where it had been before sliding it up to grasp her breast. My palm encompassed it and squeezed, pulling down slightly as if drawing her deeper into my mouth. I looked up again to see Eleanor bite down on her bottom lip to muffle her sounds and I lifted my head away from her.
I ran my hand down her stomach again to roll my thumb across the sensitive peak of her clit and delved my tongue into her. In an instant, I felt her crashing into a climax that tore a scream from her. I took my mouth away from her and pressed my fingers into her body to replace my tongue. I groaned at the feeling of her walls contracting around them and massaged gently, continuing the waves of pleasure for her until I felt her relax. I withdrew my hand.
"Move up a little," I told her and Eleanor crawled backwards resting back as she had been when she first got onto the bed.
I walked around to the side of the bed and gazed down at her, wanting to take every inch of her in, to remember her exactly this way as I undressed, remembering the way that she had stood over me just like this, undressing torturously slowly, in the cavern during the storm on the island. A moment later I was poised over her, my hips settling between her thighs. Her eyes locked firmly on mine, Eleanor opened her legs further and I plunged into her, filling her and moaning at the indulgence of the feeling of her wet, hot body closing around me for the first time without a condom between us. Eleanor drew her legs up and looped her arms around my neck, bracing herself as I pumped into her hard and fast, unable to control myself in the pure ecstasy of Eleanor. I closed my eyes and groaned, pressing up on my arms so that my upper body remained hovered over her.
I bent my elbows slightly to duck my head toward her and touched my mouth to her neck, my tongue roving the soft dip of her throat. Eleanor tilted her hips up to meet my thrusts, whimpering with each deep stroke.
I slammed into her, appreciating the way she lifted her hips with each stroke as if trying to drive me deeper into her. Her body was delectable, both familiar and exquisitely new, comfortable and yet thrilling to discover. I took her arms from around my neck and rolled, bringing Eleanor along with me so that she landed straddling my hips. The position made it easy to watch her face as she rode me, my hands holding her waist firmly so that I could guide and control her rhythm. The sweet little cupcakes of her breasts bounced with each impaling thrust and I reached up to hold one. Eleanor's sounds increased at my touch and I rolled my palm over her nipple to intensify the feeling.
When her movements slowed, I sat up and lifted her off of me.
"Get on your knees," I told her.
She rose up onto her knees and I got behind her, positioning my knees on either side of her feet. I ran my hand down her back while slipping the other around her hip. In one smooth movement, I pulled her hips backwards toward me and pressed her upper body forward so that she landed on her hands, letting out a little cry of surprise and then moaning with pleasure. I entered her again, savoring the tighter grip and different angle afforded by this position.
Eleanor threw her head back as I rocked her back and forth along my engorged cock, pounding so intensely her moans rose to sharp, short cries each time my hips met hers and I had to bite down into my bottom lip to slow down the dizzying pleasure that was building through me. I didn’t want it to end too quickly. I wanted more of her, and wanted to give her more of myself. I reached forward with my other hand and removed the tie that held her hair behind her head. I tossed it aside and dug my hand into her thick, glossy hair. She shook it back so that it tumbled onto her back, seeming to tempt me with it.
I wound her hair around my hand to grip it and groaned as I pulled back on it. Eleanor gasped and arched back against me, forcing me harder into her. Pulling slightly harder, but not enough that I felt like I might be hurting her, I guided her backwards so she raised off of her hands and sat upright on her knees, molding her body back against mine so that I could feel all of her gentle curves against my sweaty skin.
Releasing her hair, I grasped her breast and wrapped my other hand around her waist to stroke her clit. Eleanor's cries surrounded me and her arm came up to wrap tightly around my neck again as if to hold me closer. I turned my head to lick her neck, briefly biting down onto her earlobe. I sat still on my knees and she rocked harder and faster against me. I tightened my arm around her ribcage to hold her firmly to my chest so I could start to pump my hips to meet hers.
Her sounds became frantic and suddenly Eleanor screamed, clamping down on me. The sensation of the hard, powerful contractions rippling through her pushed me over the edge and I roared as a mind-blowing orgasm rocketed through me. I thrust into her one final, hard time and felt myself pouring into her, filling her. When the most intense feelings subsided, I sat back on my heels and brought her down to sit on my lap. Still buried inside her, I kissed along the side of her neck as Eleanor rolled her hips slightly, nestling harder against me as we both rode out our climaxes.
I ran my hands along her thighs and her sweat-damp belly, enjoying the soft slickness of her skin and the feeling of her labored breath. I felt like I could have stayed that way forever, the cool air from outside bringing down the sizzling heat of our skin as we fully melded together. Soon, though, I lowered her to the bed and settled beside her, curling her around me so that our legs tangled and my arms held her tightly against me. We needed to get some sleep. The rest of our honeymoon started in the morning and I didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. We had both missed too much to ever miss anything else.
THE END
P.S. Did you know?
Hunter first appeared as a character in Snow and the 7 Hunks written by yours truly before getting this book of his own. He was one of the many characters that readers loved and demanded more of.
For your enjoyment, I’m including Snow and the 7 Hunks as a bonus on the next page. So keep reading and see all the Easter eggs you find! – R.R. Banks
Snow and the 7 Hunks
A Dirty Fairy Tale Romance
Do you ever get tired of being a good girl?
I know I do, with a name like Snow I guess it’s expected.
But there is nothing good about my boss’ new wife.
That witch took over the office.
And she’s determined to turn my fairy tale into a living nightmare.
Hello, Enchanted Woods, an exclusive retreat for worn-out girls like me.
The retreat has a saying:
“True love’s kiss will fill your heart with love, but it’s his c*ck that will make you cream.”
Who knows? I might even find a prince there to give me a happy ending.
There’s no room for grumpy, sleepy and dopey in my life,
not when I can have horny, cocky and lucky.
A cowboy, an athlete, and a biker... maybe even a billionaire too.
Seven is my lucky charm. Let’s see which one is my happily-ever-after.
Chapter One
“Do you think that his dick is all shriveled up like the rest of him?”
I glared across the table at my best friend Robin, who was in turn staring wistfully at each of the waiters that swept past him without pausing. It was dessert night at The Wishing Well, our favorite hangout for as long as I could remember, and while the table in front of me was scattered with all of the sparkly, sugar-coated and cream-filled delights that I had ordered, they had somehow managed to miss everything that Robin had requested.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that,” I said, reaching for one of my treats.
Robin sighed and looked back at me.
“I do. I mean, it wouldn’t make sense for the rest of him to look like one big dangly sack now that he’s ancient but for his actual dick to still be all smooth and youthful.”
Another waiter swung past with a tray held high above his head, and Robin looked hopeful, only to be crushed when the man kept going right by.
“He’s a really nice man,” I said, feeling the urge to defend my boss.
“Does that change the fact that he’s a thousand years old and has more folds on him than an origami Shar Pei?” Robin dipped the tip of his pinky into the shallow dish of chocolate sauce beside one of my plates and licked it off. He lo
oked at his finger contemplatively. “If it is all wrinkly, do you think that it stays that way when he gets hard? I mean, is it like an accordion-type situation where it smooths out, or does it get hard and still have all the wrinkles and stuff?”
I grimaced as I took the churro from my mouth before taking a bite and settled it back onto the plate in front of me, draping a napkin over it to cover the ridges that were no longer as appealing, even covered in sugar and cinnamon.
“I really wouldn’t know,” I said.
Another waiter started toward our table, making Robin’s eyes light up, but just before he arrived, he took a sudden turn and presented a nearby table with an elaborate spread of sweets. Robin turned back toward me and sagged against the table.
“Someday. Someday my blintz will come,” he said. He pouted for a few seconds and then looked at me like he had just heard what I had said. “Of course you don’t know,” he said. “You’re as pure as the driven…”
“Please, don’t.”
“Snow.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. I was already committed. I had to finish it.” I glared at him, not willing to let this one slide. “OK, so that probably wasn’t the best idiom I could have gone with.”
“You’re an idiom,” I muttered.
I couldn’t blame Robin entirely. When you have a name like Snow it’s kind of hard to make a purity comparison without it coming across as incredibly heavy-handed. He might as well not pussy-foot around it and go right for the brutally clichéd kill.
“Blintz?”