Madrid. Alex took a deep breath of fresh air from the balcony of their honeymoon suite, held it as long as he could, and then slowly released. He loved it here. The city always put him instantly in touch with his roots.
Coming here before heading to their Aragon finca was a genius decision. He planned to make the most of a couple days of luxury and the chance to show his bride all the Spanish capital offered. Alex couldn’t wait to take her to the Museo del Prado where he’d arranged for a private tour of the renowned museum’s magnificent collection of art by Goya, El Greco, and Diego Velazquez. A reproduction of Diego’s Venus at her Mirror hangs in their bedroom at home because it reminds him of his lovely Meghan.
And then, of course, there was the lovemaking. There was going to be plenty of that. Definitely some fucking too. Couldn’t have one without the other. Not with an Irish fuck goddess for a wife.
Wife. Jesus. Meghan was his wife now.
A sensation of soft warmth slowly moved up his neck. He shuddered knowing she was in the room. Without turning around, he felt her energy reach him. It wrapped around his body and seeped into every pore until she was inside him. In his heart and in his soul.
Meghan.
He turned and looked at her. Dear god. She was so beautiful, and he loved her so fucking much. The sheer white negligee she wore reminded him of the night’s importance. A longing such as none he’d ever known grabbed hold.
“My love,” he murmured.
“Husband,” she replied in that soft husky voice she saved for him and him alone.
She came into his arms and snuggled close in a loving embrace. It felt wonderful to hold her again without fearing that he’d lose control. Knowing they honored their promise to remain abstinent until they were married was more deeply satisfying than he ever imagined. So too was knowing that when he took her now, not a single impediment remained between them, and God willing, their love would result in the baby they both dreamed of having.
“Now, you know,” he chuckled into her hair as he increased the fierce hug, “the minute we get out of these clothes, it’s going to be quick and dirty the first time, right?”
She laughed, leaned back, and ruffled her fingers through his hair. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, my lord and master.”
“Oh, wait. That’s right. We’re fucking married now, so you kind of have to call me master.” He made an approving smirk. “I think I like it.”
With a cute, long-suffering sigh, his naughty wife shimmied on the erection pressing against the front of his pants and made the most delicious looking pout.
“I thought we agreed that obey thing was more of a suggestion then a rule.”
He leered at her. “Darling, you can believe whatever you want. Whatever it takes to get inside you is fine by me.”
Whaaaat?” she drawled with amusing shock. “I thought once we were married, you’d be one of those once a year and on every birthday kind of guy.”
“Did you now?” He made the fail buzzer sound like and said, “Wrong.”
“Well, shit,” she quipped. The quirky smile made his already rock-hard cock turn to steel. “Does that mean you’re going to want to stroke the pussy tonight?”
“Ah, kitten,” he told her with a lusty grin, “your sweet pussy’s going to get a lot more than some stroking.”
She pushed him away and went straight for the ice bucket with the bottle of Moet waiting for them to enjoy. “I’ll need a couple of drinks then. Makes it easier to lay there and submit.”
“Lay there and submit.” He whooped with laughter. “Lay there and submit? Who the fuck are you kidding?”
She poured two glasses then handed him one. With an innocent look, she wound her arm around his to drink.
“What shall we drink to?” he asked.
“To pussies and submission and a very special surprise I have in store for my sexy as fuck husband.”
They locked eyes and took a long sip.
Right. She promised something special for him. “When do I get this surprise?”
She chuckled and trailed a finger across his lips. “Oh, baby. You’ll know it when you see it, and that’s all I’m saying.”
They polished off most of the champagne as she sat on his lap while he took all sorts of liberties with her sexy body. Whatever he could get away with while the negligee stayed on, he went for. When he slid his fingers between her legs and found her actually dripping with need, he kissed her wildly while fingering her deeply and passionately. When she started to lose control, she stopped him.
“No. Please, Alex. I don’t want to come until you’re inside me.”
He started counting back from fifty. Those three words … come and inside me rivaled the best three words of all. I love you. He needed a minute to get it together or he’d be forced to throw her on the floor and fuck her into tomorrow.
“I think we should go to bed now.” He said this while putting her off his lap and standing. With his entire blood flow rushing to his dick, Alex’s head swam a little. The champagne made the fuzziness worse. “Tell me now,” he growled. “Is there any reason why we can’t do this?”
The witch. She palmed his erection and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, master.”
Talk about throwing kerosene on a bonfire, her playful taunt pushed him straight over the edge. Without warning, he dipped, put his shoulder in her belly, and hoisted her over his shoulder caveman style. When she yelped in surprise, he reached up and swatted her ass. Hard.
“Be quiet, wife. Your master is about to fuck the wickedness out of you.”
She laughed and squirmed in a lame attempt to free herself as he hauled her sexy butt into the bedroom and literally tossed her through the air and onto the enormous king-size bed where she landed with a thud.
He was on top of her in seconds. They both went wild the second he pinned her to the mattress. Kissing like maniacs, they devoured and ravished with their mouths until sweat poured from their bodies.
The negligee? In tatters. He tore it off her bit by bit, feasting on every inch he uncovered until finally she was naked except for some very sexy satin panties and an equally as sexy garter around one delectable thigh. The bright red crystal centered in the waistband of her panties reminded him of the roses she carried when this beautiful creature came to him in the church. Seeing it set the beast inside him off the leash. It was time.
Hearing her pant when he rose up and pulled the panties down her legs almost robbed him of his sanity. “The garter stays on,” he grunted.
Sliding from the bed Alex finished removing what clothes he still wore. She watched him through hooded eyes, her chest rising and falling from her rapid breathing. He could smell her need. The sexy auburn curls between her legs, the legs she bent at the knee and parted wide for his viewing pleasure, were wet and curled close to the outer lips of her pussy.
Fisting his cock, he stroked himself and saw her eyes flare as she watched. The arms she spread wide upon the bed lifted and went to her breasts. He knew what was happening. She got off watching him handle his dick. With legs spread wide, she bit her lip with delicious anticipation. When she massaged her gorgeous tits, he caught the gleam from the twinkling diamonds and rubies she wore on her left hand that proclaimed she belonged to him.
“Open for me, baby,” he demanded with a grunt as he climbed on the bed and got in position. Meghan moved her legs on either side of him, and he nudged close until the head of his cock teased her opening. He knew damn well once they started, he wouldn’t be able to slow down or stop.
“With your hands, wife. Open yourself with your hands. You want your master’s cock? Guide it home, baby. Show me that you’re mine.”
She whimpered and destroyed her bottom lip as she reached between her spread legs and gently opened her swollen pussy. He immediately rubbed the head of his cock all over her wet flesh and used it to circle round and round the nub swollen with desire. Her back arched, she groaned, and he stopped trying to go slow.
&nb
sp; Sliding his hands beneath her ass, he lifted, felt his cock find her opening, and thrust deep as a mighty grunt rumbled out of him. Her pussy welcomed him with a flood of hot arousal and then tightened like a vise. He started moving, slowly for about five strokes, and then the beast took control. After that, it got ferocious fast. She was crying out. He felt her come almost immediately. That first release meant he could go deeper, so he did, pounding her with a fury that got stronger and stronger.
Alex was grunting wildly. He hoarsely cried her name. Her glorious pussy demanded more, and he gave it. Gave all he had. She came again. He roared, shook from head to toe and swung his head trying to clear his senses. He felt like an animal.
His hips thrust and bucked. The sweet honey of her orgasms seeped from her body and covered his balls. It had been too long. The weeks without her robbed Alex of any pretense of finesse. His legs started to shake and a sensation at the base of his spine spread outward until all he knew was the knife’s edge of ecstasy. He felt his balls tighten. This release would be like no other.
When it happened, he thrust forward and buried inside her, bucking as his cock throbbed and spurted. Feeling his essence entering her body made him growl like a wild animal. He kept thrusting. Fucking deeper, sending his seed into her womb as her hands gripped his ass and urged him on.
Who knew how long it all went on. There was no way to keep track. Eventually, they fell into an exhausted, sated doze with his cock still inside her body and her legs wrapped around his waist.
Meghan awoke to find her naked husband standing by the bed with the strangest expression on his face. He was wringing a cloth into a shallow bowl. She smelled the soft scent of her favorite soap and knew he’d cleaned her body after their tempestuous coupling.
She stretched and smiled. Mmm. Being sore was deliciously sexy.
He approached the bed and leaned over to kiss her sweetly on the lips. She couldn’t help herself. His manhood was right there so while he kissed her she reached for him and slowly stroked his manly flesh. He was hard and oh so soft at the same time. She let out a needful sigh and looked at him.
“Come back to bed, husband. Your wife has a need only you can fill.”
Alex looked her deeply in the eye as he pulled back. She tried to read his expression. There was love. And lust. But also, something resembling pleasure and a bit of admiration.
“Is there something you want to tell your husband, wife?”
Huh? Tell him? Tell him what? In a confused voice, she said, “I love you?”
Alex grabbed her hand and forcibly yanked her off the bed. “Hey!” she protested as he dragged Meghan across the room. Taking her to the blue velvet couch in the living room, he sat down and got her face down and ass up over his knee in record time.
“Alex!”
His hand came down on one side of her bottom. She flinched. “I don’t remember giving permission,” he drawled.
His spankings followed a pattern. First a swat and then he’d rub the spot. Then the other side. Back and forth. Swat and rub. Swat and rub. But this time when he moved to the other side and smacked her with a tear-inducing whack, and she whimpered, as he started to rub the cheek, he stopped and said, “My, my. What have we here?”
Oh, my god. The tattoo! She’d actually forgotten.
“Is that a griffin I see on my wife’s ass?”
She turned her head and met his eyes. “Surprise,” she weakly muttered with a sniff.
“Is this why you left my bed early? To put ink on you bottom?” His hand came down again, just as hard, and she jumped only this time when he rubbed her ass, she squirmed and pressed her legs together to ease the building ache.
“It’s from your family crest. I wanted you to know. To see it when you …”
“When I what?” he growled as he spanked her again.
She was squirming for real now. “From behind,” she moaned as a wave of fresh arousal coursed through her. “When you take me …”
He cut her off with another heavy swat. As he rubbed the pain away, he murmured, “When I fuck you ass up and face down?”
Unf. “Yes.”
Another fierce swat sent shards of heat racing into every corner of her being. She shuddered as he rubbed then slid his fingers between her legs. Finding her wet, he grunted.
“On your knees, wife. Chest on the floor. Present yourself to me.”
Meghan was shaking all over as she crawled onto the luxuriously carpeted floor. Collapsing forward, she felt the cool air hit her exposed pussy and whimpered.
“Wider,” he demanded. “Knees wider.”
She did as he asked and then gasped when he leaned over and kissed the tattoo that symbolized his ownership. In a deep sexy voice, he told her, “I love your surprise, wife.”
She wiggled her bottom in invitation.
He laughed and swatted her bottom again. “Naughty wife. You get that I’m going to fuck my Irish goddess like a slut, right?”
She giggled then replied in a husky voice, “Yes, sir. Please, may I have another?”
And so began the marital journey of Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Valleja-Marquez.
HEATHER WAS EXHAUSTED after running through the park twice. Once wasn’t enough to dampen the nervous energy pumping through her system.
Two weeks flew by since she came back from Boston. Two weeks of solitude to deal with her thoughts.
She’d been to see her therapist and told her about Brody and his missing daughter. Thinking she was going to get some solid support and maybe some advice on how to deal with her careening emotions, she wasn’t in any way prepared when the doctor looked at her and asked, “Did you ever grieve for the child you lost?”
What? Grieve for the child? What was she talking about?
“It wasn’t like that,” she’d rushed to explain adding a shrug and a blank look to hopefully put an end to that line of questioning.
“Like what?”
Well, shit. She was a therapist and couldn’t believe she’d walked right into that one.
“Heather,” the doctor said a bit too kindly. Kindness had a way of making her defensive when these things were discussed. “You suffered a miscarriage. You know the drill. Holding your feelings in because you think they might be messy isn’t how you heal from something.”
A miscarriage. Jesus. Something else she hated. The damn word made her see red.
“I didn’t have a miscarriage. I had a sick, violent husband, who I never should have married, beat the holy snot out of me. He broke a rib. Fractured my cheek. And killed the child inside me. I don’t know what fucking word covers all that, but believe me,” her derisive sneer said it all. “Miscarriage is not it.”
“So did you grieve,” she’d asked again.
“There was nothing to grieve. The child was spared living with a violent, abusive father. In some ways, he or she got the better end of the deal.”
The doctor nodded. The kind smile on her face remained. “Jason took a lot of things from you, Heather. Your confidence. A sense of security. Your child. Are you going to let him take your future too?”
That question hit a bit too close to home and Heather thought she might cry.
“What if someone you loved came to you tomorrow and said I have a chance to be happy with a good man who loves me. A chance to have the family I deserve. But I’m afraid. What would you say? What would your advice be?”
Heather sat there and thought long and hard. Glancing out the window, she noticed a bird perched on the branch of a tree full of spring promise. Wondering what the seasons were like in Arizona she considered finding a good book with field pictures of native birds.
Arizona seasons? Native birds? Oh, my god. THAT’s what her heart revealed when nothing left remained to tangle up her thoughts and emotions?
Raising her eyes to the doctor’s, she smiled and said, “Thank you.”
They shook hands and shared a brief hug. Heather never felt so peaceful and centered.
“Good luck in Arizona.
Let me know if the weather is good and the cowboys as hot as I hear!”
When she got home from her run, the first thing she did was check her email and phone to see if there were any messages. The Justice ladies had been so sweet and kind, keeping her as up-to-date as possible with whatever they knew and asking about her well-being. Carmen even sent a care package of goodies including a Justice coffee mug that she used every morning for her tea.
George was following her around in a funk. As if he knew something was up with Brody, all he did was plod along after her. She knew how he felt.
Dashing into the bathroom for a quick shower, she put on a soft pink sleep cami and a pair of pajama shorts. Spritzing her favorite perfume into a cloud over her head, she walked through the mist and inhaled. Being with Brody released the force of her femininity. She’d even indulged in a full mani-pedi, massage, and leg wax a few days ago.
“Stephanie says pampering is a good thing,” she muttered out loud.
Pulling on a short cashmere robe, her favorite, she belted the deliciously soft fabric and headed into the kitchen. Fluffing her hair after pulling out an elastic band, she inspected the contents of her fridge and prayed for inspiration.
She could always whip up some eggs. Maybe a nice fluffy cheese omelet. Oh, goody. There was bacon. Yay!
Pulling what she needed out of the fridge, she was getting things set up when the doorbell sounded. George’s head snapped up, his ears flopping adorably as his head turned and looked at the door.
“I’m with you, boy.” She chuckled. “Who’d just drop by?”
When she opened the door, she was pretty sure the floor dropped out from under her at the same time. There in the hallway looking rather rough around the edges and like he hadn’t slept in days was her cowboy.
“Heather,” he groaned. “Help me.”
She froze. “Oh, my god. What’s the matter? Is everything all right? Are you hurt?” Her eyes flew up and down his body twice looking for clues. She saw none.
Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) Page 48