by Lucian Bane
“Of course not,” Lucian said. “I was… hoping we could hold a small ceremony… out at the farm? With you there?”
Light slowly bloomed in her grandmother’s eyes, like a level twelve Jesus revelation. “A wedding at the farm?” She turned a hazed look on Tara. “Your grandfather and I… revisited our vows there.” Firm nods and a stubborn jutted chin followed the reverent words before she gave barely a smile. “I think that would be a right fine place to have a weddin’.” She drew her finger like a six-shooter aimed at Lucian. “After I eventuate you’re not in need of exfluncticatin.”
“Gramma! Exfluncticatin? This is the twentieth century, we don’t gun down people!”
She gave Tara a squinty one eyed look. “That’s why the world’s a goin’ to hell in a hand basket. Too many people needin’ lead in their head and not gettin' it.” She nodded with wide eyes at Lucian. “That last idget that left her standin’ all the day long at the alter coulda stood to have my five beans in the wheel,” she tapped her temple, “bedded right in his dad-gum noggin.”
“So I’ve heard,” Lucian said. “I coulda stood to hold him down while you did… whatever that is.”
Her Gramma stared in silence at him before erupting in sudden wide-mouthed cackling laughter. She shuffled her way to Lucian and patted him on the arm, eyeing Tara. “I think I’m gone like this one just fine.”
Tara actually let out a sigh of relief at that, and her Gramma tossed her finger around. “You two pack my things, I’ll make my rounds for goodbyes.” She slipped on her shoes and headed to the door. “The gals’ll just have to make do without me at the bingo. They knew this day was acomin’, I’ve been tellin’ them that my Tara was comin’ back. Silly ole biddies acting like I was crazy to think it.” She turned and eyed Tara before walking out. “I tole em straight and true. You don’t know my granddaughter. When she sets up her mind to do somethin’, it’s all done but the doin.” She winked and left out, her old weathered face full of radiance.
“Holy. Shit,” Lucian whispered when they were alone. “Love, you neglected to tell me that she was a fireball!” he busted out in silent laughter and Tara put her head on his chest, welcoming his tight embrace. “I fucking love her, oh my God.” He took her face in his hands and looked at her, smiling. “Tara Mae.”
She rolled her eyes. “I told you she was brusque. And don’t you dare call me that.”
“Oh, there is nothing you can say or do that will stop me from calling you by your rightful name, Tara Mae.”
“Stop it,” she muttered against his hungry lips, growing hungrier by the second.
“Tara fucking Mae, I love it. I want to call you that while I orgasm. Tara Mae. Mmmm, oh fuck yes, Tara Mae,” he moaned.
“Oh Jesus,” she gasped in his mouth, suddenly loving the name and wanting to hear it right then. “I’ll laugh if you do.”
“I’ll punish you.”
“Then I’ll definitely laugh.”
His lips spread into a smile on hers. “She liked the idea of a wedding at the farm.”
“Oh my God, she did, that was a brilliant move,” Tara whispered around the slow seduction of his tongue.
“You still like that too?”
“Yes.” She raked her nails along his neck, loving that his cock jerked in his jeans.
“And can we still honeymoon in your bedroom, Tara Mae?”
The world spun behind her closed eyes as she gave her wispy yes.
“Then let’s get Gramma the fuck out of this make-shift graveyard, and back to the farm. I need to do things with you there.”
“Oh God, yes, okay.”
Lucian broke the kiss with a growl and held her before him. “You okay? To stand, I mean?”
She nodded with a smile.
He grinned at her then looked around. “Looks like we might need a few boxes.”
Chapter Five
Rapid loud banging jolted Lucian up on the couch. He threw off the covers and hurried to the door to see who the fuck needed to be decked, banging like the fucking world was ending. Really?! If he woke the house, Lucian was going to be more pissed than he already was for having to sleep on the couch until they were officially married. Jesus CHRIST. He was past ready to kill.
Lucian yanked the door open after fighting with the locks. A tall blonde-headed dude stood there like a lumberjack straight out of a fucking tree.
“Sorry to wake you.” The drawled voice rumbled deep, matching his stature.
“What the…” Lucian bit back the swear words, “Sorry, what… what’s up, what you got?”
“I heard Tara Reese was coming back to the farm with her Grandmother and wanted to offer my assistance in getting things back in order.”
Lucian eyed him and realized he was entertaining guests in only jeans.
“Is that Luther?” Gramma came shuffling behind him.
Lucian turned, opening the door more. “Sorry, I tried to stop the loud banging as fast as I could.”
“Oh I wasn’t sleepin’ boy.” She eyed Lucian. “Where’s your chest britches? You gonna catch your death.” She turned to Tree Hugger. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Luther. Come on in and have some coffee. I made a pot earlier. How’s your father?”
Lucian realized at that second just how up the sun actually was. Before Lucian could ask where Tara was, the dude did.
“Oh, she’s comin’ down in a bit,” Gramma said. “She’s taking her morning shower.”
“She always did like those,” he said, looking up briefly at the ceiling like he knew where that was. “I haven’t seen that little sprout around in a while.”
Gramma laughed. “She had a job up the way. Right prosperous one. Made enough to bring me home.”
Lucian regarded the man anew, not liking how much he knew about Tara. “So… you know her? Know her well, I mean?” He realized how that sounded. “Know the family.” Lucian raked a hand through his tousled hair. “Good, glad you’re… here. I can use a few pointers since I’ll be looking after the place.” Fucking felt like the ignorant, lazy, help now.
“Well come on in.” Gramma shuffled back to the kitchen and Lucian shut the door, eying the towering frame that lumbered behind her. Dude was a giant, maybe descendent of the Nephilim. Lucian tiptoed to the stairs and snuck up while Gramma’s all seeing eyes weren’t seeing him. There would be no fornicatin’ in her house or she’d excommunicate the breath of life plum outta his blood.
Lucian listened for the sound of where Tara might be, then knocked softly on her bedroom door. Gramma yelled her name from downstairs and he hurried in, finding her half naked by the window. But any desire that would have ignited was doused by his anger. He pointed at the door and hiss-whispered, “There’s a giant man downstairs 'come to pay you all a visit,'” he mocked with a Missouri drawl, “and your lovely Gramma invited him in for coffee.”
She screwed up her face, holding her towel to her chest. “What’s his name?”
He gave a disgusted smirk and shrug. “Lutheran or some shit, I don’t remember, but he seems to have history with you."
“History?” She gawked. “Luther?” Next a dramatic hand wave. “Noooo! God noooo!”
“Yeeeeeesss! God yes! He knows you like to take morning showers?”
Her jaw dropped with her narrowed gaze. “He does not!” she mouthed.
“Do you have any history with him sweetheart?” he whispered. “I don’t want to be around the lumberjack version of Ken Barbie and his little comments without knowing that.”
“We do not have a history!”
“What do you have?”
“A... nothing,” she hissed dramatically.
“A nothing.”
She spun around and shot to her dresser. “Yes a nothing. We just…” She dug around quickly in only white, boy cut underwear while Lucian waited. “Kissed. Once. That’s all.”
“Jesus. Christ.”
She yanked a shirt out and worked it on. “Baby, when he knows you’re my fiancé, it’ll be fin
e." She turned to him now, "he’ll get the hint and not come back, I’m sure.”
“Kissed fucking once,” Lucian repeated, not hearing around his fury. “What kind of kiss, tell me everything. When the fuck, why the fuck, how- where- what-the-motherfuck was going on. How fucking old were you exactly, and did you like it!” He'd slowly worked his way toward her until her perfectly astonished gaze was just below him.
“I’m not… telling you all that!” Her face crimped with eww. “I was only sixteen!”
“A little 'sprout' is what he called you. How old is he? Fifty?”
She smashed her lips together and lowered her head to hide a smile which pissed him off more. This was anything but funny. “He’s my age, Lucian.”
God he was so fucking disgusted. “So why the fuck call you a sprout?”
She widened her eyes and shrugged a little. “I’m… tiny? Maybe?”
Jealous fury burned in his guts and blood at the idea of that fucker’s lips on her mouth at sixteen. Lucian began to pace. “Did he touch you?”
“Lucian. Seriously?" She cocked her hip out, following him with an obstinate gaze.
“Just answer me.”
She slowly slid her jaw sideways and looked at the ceiling with a huff. “Just a little.”
Lucian paused and stared at her. "Tara? Do not make me drag it out of you one sick bit at a time. Tell me all at once.”
“Ugh! Fine. He fingered me, played with my breasts, and kissed me.” Her face ended in crimped worry.
“Mother. Fuck,” he gasped.
“I’m sorry baby, it’s not my fault," she whined in empathy, a hand on her mouth. Probably hiding a grin.
“I know that!” he spat. “Doesn’t make me any less crazy to think.”
“So why ask?”
“Because I’d be imagining a lot worse!”
“Well…” she said, all happy smiles, “you don’t have to now. It’s all said and done.”
“No it’s not all said and done, it’s all said and burning a hole in my gut.”
“Why?!” She hurried over and hugged him tight to her, not letting him move.
“You know why!”
“Not really, no. Tell me.”
He glared down into her gaze and found a hunger there--to know how much he loved her. How in the world did she still not know that? “To think of another man touching you… makes me... very fucking crazy, sweetheart. You should know that by now, why don’t you know that?”
She laid her head on his chest and he stroked it softly. “Thank you,” she whispered. “If it helps, it was the worst experience ever. He didn’t know what he was doing, it felt yucky and he kissed like a slobbery lizard on crack.”
The unexpected visual brought his unbidden laughter and she looked up at him with a smile. “But you,” she whispered, stroking his face. “Everything you do… defies any dream I’ve ever dreamed. You’re so much more perfect to me than I ever knew how to wish for.”
Lucian’s anger fizzled out at those words. “Really? You really mean that? You’re not just saying it to make me not go kill him, or die trying? He’s a big motherfucker but I’m pretty good with a bat.”
“Can I?” she begged sweetly, working on opening his pants.
“No, I need to shower,” he whispered, hating to say it.
“I can help you.” A mischievous grin followed the offer.
Even as he mentally shook his head at that bad idea, the protest never made its way on his tongue. She pulled him to the bathroom and Lucian’s heart raced like a naughty boy as she locked the door. Tara turned to him, biting her lower lip with a smile and lowering her gaze to where she worked at the button on his pants. Hot breath came with her lips over his nipple along with a sharp exhale of his breath. Her lips smacked off and she slowly flicked the hard tip with her tongue while Lucian worked the rest of his clothes off. She stroked her hands over his chest and abs, the tingly warmth tickling at his dick even as she went lower and circled the base of his cock.
She gazed up at him while stroking his length, the look in her eyes bringing his entire being to life. The longing and awe in her eyes while she slid her hands slowly along him, made him dizzy.
He needed to see her. Pushing into her touch with an anxious grunt, he reached for the hem of her shirt and removed it.
Finally naked, she turned to the shower and Lucian’s gaze burned over her body. She was fucking perfect to him in ways that went far beyond physical. “You’re Gramma is going to kill me,” he whispered.
Tara turned and faced him with an adorable naughty smile while opening the shower curtain. Her tight nipples drew Lucian’s gaze, slamming his cock with harsh desire and fuck what Gramma thought.
“We’ll be quiet.” Eyes riveted to his cock, she licked her lower lip and held her hand out to him. He took it and she helped him in the shower. The second she climbed in after, her gaze lassoed his cock, making it jerk hard. Then she burned that gaze over his body with a slow, hungry perusal before ending back at her target. “I’ll wash you first.” His dick pulsed several times with her hot whisper, the steam of the water adding to the dizzying effect she had on him. Everything about her… the calculated restrain in her limbs, the scorching heat in her slitted gaze, and that hungry fucking bite on her lower lip… said she was about to rock his world. And there would be nothing quiet about it.
She filled her palm with liquid soap and looked up at him as she captured his cock in both hands, like she needed to see what she did to him. Lucian’s air shot out of his body as he watched her wash his cock, harder than rock now. Waves of heat licked through his balls, ass, and back. “Feels good?”
“Yes,” he said, swallowing then grunting as she gave special attention to the sensitive slit and ridge.
“I love your cock,” she whispered.
He pumped into her touch. “So glad,” he gasped.
She glided her soapy hand along his balls next, not missing a spot, toying just beyond with promising tease that shot his breath out.
“Mmmm, you like it there?” She watched his face, stroking the section between balls and ass with more firm deliberation.
“Yes,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
“Does it feel as good as this?”
His lips parted with harsh breathing as she slid her finger on his ass. “That… “
She stroked his cock with one hand and continued to twirl her finger on his ass. “That?”
“Yes, that.”
“I love how you like this, I don’t know why,” she whispered. “You’re so sexy when I touch you here.”
She stopped long enough to put him in the shower stream, rinsing him while resuming her torment. Spreading his feet as much as he could, he stared into her upturned gaze and took her face in his hands, kissing her softly while she jacked him off.
He licked at her tongue, grunting as she stole back to teasing his ass. “Fuck yes,” he breathed in her mouth, holding her face firmer while feasting at her lips. She moaned in response, capturing the head of his cock in one hand and circling it in her palm while pushing her way inside him.
He bit at her lip and growled before shoving his tongue deep in her mouth, trying to tell her what he wanted. Deep, hard, now.
“You like that baby?” she gasped between his kiss, pushing her finger deeper.
Lucian choked on a groan and gripped her jaw with one hand and wrapped his hand in her hair. “Do it, fuck me.” The words shot out harsh and commanding as he rolled his hips hard. “Deeper, fucking deeper.” He lowered his hand over her tight stomach and slid his finger into her silky heat. Jabbing hard and fast, he growled in her mouth, “Like that.”
She cried out and matched his pace inside him the same way, her hand on his cock turning into frantic strokes. Deeper more farther
“Fucking yes, do it, that’s it.” He let his head fall back as the orgasm came racing for him, running him over like a tidal wave of fire. Lucian pulled her against his body as he came so fucking hard and long. And
yet it was never long enough.
Chapter Six
“Do you think he’s gone?” Lucian sat on the toilet, his legs feeling a lot like noodles after what Tara did to him.
“God, I hope so.”
Lucian eyed her where she bent over the little sink brushing her teeth. He reached and smacked her ass, getting a yelp then angry brows aimed at him. He grinned at the pink toothbrush clamped between her lips and the toothpaste all over her mouth. He loved seeing her perform this personal ritual. It was one of those intimacies that translated… married.
He stood behind her and smoothed the spot on her rear and kissed her temple. “We’ve been in here, what… an hour maybe?” He moved to kissing her spine while she gagged herself with the toothbrush until he laughed.
“Sorry,” she gasped, standing and wiping her mouth in the mirror before zooming forward for an up-close inspection of her face. “Oh my God, I’m too old for zits!”
“Sweetheart, you have no zits, you have adorable freckles.”
“That is not a freckle.”
“What are you so worried about?”
She widened her eyes in the mirror at him. “I don’t want a zit for my wedding!”
Lucian’s pissed-off went out the window with that, and he wrapped his arms around her from behind. With his mouth buried in her neck, he groaned, “My God, that’s sixteen thousand years from now.”
She pressed her head into his shoulder laughing. “Sixteen days has never felt so eternal.”
“Thank God she agreed to that. I thought she’d make us wait till after Christmas, I swear I was going to lose it on that frail woman.”
“Frail my ass,” Tara hissed, angling her mouth to his, moaning lightly when he kissed it. “She’s got more spunk than a truckload of dynamite!”
He smiled at her breathy words then remembered that dude. “What about Lumbering Leonardo? I’m not going to be his fucking farm boy.”
She pulled away a little. “Why on earth would you?”
He went for her lips again and kissed her between words. “Because I stupidly agreed to let him show me how to run the farm.” He finally turned her and pressed the front of her body into his, taking the edge off his frustration. “And what kind of farm do you have here, I thought that was metaphorical for the amount of space or something.”