My husband. For real.
His thrusts start out long and rhythmic, filling me entirely. Stretching me open. The plump swollen crown of his erection pounds that sweet spot deep inside me with each stroke. Gradually, he picks up speed. I’ve never had an orgasm through penetration before Fletcher. I want to experience it again so badly.
I grab his broad shoulders tightly and hang onto him. “Keep fucking me hard, Fletcher. I’m so… so… close. Give me every inch of your big cock.”
My dirty words inflame him, and he starts slamming into me. Shifting his weight to one arm, he reaches around me and grabs my backside, his fingers delving into the cleft. One finger slides into my rear hole, and he presses on the tight rim with his knuckles. The pressure combined with his glorious cock rockets me right into my orgasm. It’s the most incredible sensation, and I drop my arms, now wrapping them around his trim waist, and I kiss his bulging bicep.
So strong.
So much a man.
I’m so in love.
“Thank you for that,” I say, panting.
Instead of answering, he leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth and then glides his tongue up to my ear, making me shudder with a keen erotic pleasure, and then he drives into me fast and hard in flawless rhythm like a piston firing on all cylinders until he roars and halts, spilling into me as he closes his eyes and rides the wave of his bliss.
I watch him, mesmerized by his masculine beauty, his physical strength, his dominance in all things, his importance in the world. Everything about him is intimidating and breathtaking. And I’m amazed that he loves me.
He said so.
Can it be true?
While I’m busy admiring him and reveling in my good fortune, I realize too late that we’ve never had that birth-control conversation.
Um… Maybe I just won’t mention it? Unless it becomes necessary, of course. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Maybe tomorrow I should just pick up the morning-after pill?
What would he say to being a father?
I wonder.
47
Fletcher Creed
It may be true that “All’s well that ends well.”
Except it’s not over yet. We are, I think, closing in on it, though. My staff and outside contractors have put together a thick dossier on Rico Holland, and we’re hoping it’s enough to ruin him financially. Disappointingly, it’s not strong enough to land him in prison. That would be the ideal outcome.
The oddest part of this whole story is the huge coincidence of his separate connections to me and Marley. I was so sure that once we got to the bottom of the whole thing, we’d find the connecting thread, but it’s not there. It was never there.
Holland was going after my company as part of a much bigger strategy of buying up controlling interest in as many US media companies as possible. He and his associates planned to control and manipulate the largest part of the news and social media in this country and thereby shape policy in everything from business to politics. He was going after Marley for an entirely different and personal reason: he claims to be in love with her.
The fact that he drove her into my arms is sort of hilarious, wonderful, and completely accidental. I think when he realized that happened, it enraged him to the point where he began to think of resorting to violence. Against both of us—me and Marley.
Now, we’re going to get him and get him good. During the deposition that my attorney dragged him to this past Monday, I had a chance to confront him, and he told me face-to-face that she belonged to him and that he’d duel me to the death for the right to be with her.
I outright laughed in his face. The guy is delusional if he thinks he could keep Marley—unless it’s as his prisoner, which I think would be just fine with the crazy bastard.
I very much enjoyed telling him how much Marley loves me and watching the dark matter of his eyes—and I don’t mean his eye color. His evil reveals itself in those beady eyes of his.
I’m sitting in my office waiting for Nathan, my head of security to brief me on the latest info. While I wait, my mind wanders back to the other night and my one-time stint as a faker. I have to admit it was ridiculously fun, not only to dress up but also to get even with Marley for the incredible risks she took with that dangerous plan the women concocted.
The funny thing is that it worked.
Harrison Blackwell, despite being a nasty little prick or maybe because of it, realized in fairly short order that he had to put some distance between him and his protégé. That put a serious crimp in Holland’s revenue stream since not only was he on Blackwell’s payroll, but he was also using Blackwell money to invest.
He still hasn’t dumped my company stock, but if he knows his assets will be frozen while the SEC investigates him, then he might divest as much as he can in order to squirrel some away. Once he dumps it, I’ll snatch it up at a reduced price and immediately file the paperwork to take my firm private once again. My attorney is poised and waiting for me to give her the word.
If he doesn’t sell, I’ll just keep on doing what I’ve been doing and take it private that way.
I try to concentrate on business matters, but my thoughts keep returning to spanking Marley’s sexy round ass. Yeah, it was an error in judgment to let the guys watch, but I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it and so did they. Normally, I would never let other men see my wife’s body, but then again, it was just her ass—nothing they wouldn’t see if she wore a thong swimsuit. Having an audience for her spanking was arousing. There’s something about having a woman over your lap and reddening her ass that drives men crazy. To be honest, I think women secretly love it too. They can’t admit to it, of course, but my girl was dripping wet afterward.
After I delivered her punishment, Tristan and Hugo got up to leave with huge bulges in their pants. I felt kind of sorry for them because I had one too, but it was about to be taken care of. Theirs weren’t.
Then again, Marley could have easily thrown my sorry ass out of the room instead of letting me fuck her.
But she did let me fuck her. And she has the prettiest pink pussy I’ve ever had. After our first time together, I’ve spent many a night fisting my cock and thinking about the first night I spent in her tight, warm cunt. After spanking her for taking such a risk, I couldn’t not fuck her. There she was, her ass all pink and swollen, her face flushed, tears glittering in her eyes, and her lips all wet and luscious. You know what else was wet and luscious? Yeah, I had to fuck her.
And now I’m hard as granite from thinking about it.
The knock comes at my door at the same time Hammer pushes it open and sails through, never waiting for me to answer first. I quickly put up my feet so my knees block my hard-on. My desk is glass so it doesn’t hide much of anything.
“Mr. Creed, I heard we’re inches away from taking down the infamous Rico Holland. Is that true?”
I close my laptop and smile. “We’re close. If all goes according to plan, he will have to liquidate his stock portfolio, and we can pick up our shares at a good price point. Legal is all ready to file the paperwork to take us private again.” I lean back in my chair and look up at the ceiling. “Ah, freedom, I can almost taste it.”
“So will I be forgiven for my transgression in this matter?”
What? I narrow my eyes. “What’d you do now?”
He barks a laugh. “I did nothing. I’m totally innocent.” He shakes his head. “I’m referring to the whole mishap with Todd and Taryn Richmond.”
“Oh, that. You’ve been forgiven since the day I fell in love with her. I just never got around to telling you. Oops.”
His mouth drops open in stunned amusement. “Thanks a lot for that. When was that, by the way?”
“When was what?”
“When did you fall in love with her?”
Still leaning back in my chair, I put my hands behind my head and allow myself the luxury of remembering our first meeting. “The day she strolled into my office with that wild blond
mane and Caribbean-blue eyes.” I glance over to him. “Next question.”
“Is there anything I can do to help move this whole thing along? With Holland, I mean?”
“Nah. It’s in the lap of the attorneys now. Hopefully the SEC gets involved. We just sit on our hands and wait.”
“All right. Then I’m going to make that trip to Seattle to meet with Guy Rigby.” At my look of confusion, he adds, “The cofounder of the AI company we were interested in backing. Their newest technology is amazing.”
“Right. Okay, sounds good. Just text me the dates you’ll be gone.”
“Will do. See you around, Creed.”
48
Marley Jacobs
At five o’clock in the afternoon almost to the minute the front door opens, and Fletcher comes sauntering in, a big smile on his face.
“What’s up with that smile? Good day?”
“More than good.” He comes over to me and takes my hands in his. “We got him.”
“Him? Rico?”
He nods. “All his assets were frozen today. He tried to liquidate some of his portfolio before it went through, but he didn’t get far. Unfortunately, he didn’t sell my company shares, but I found out I can still do what I need to do to get the ball rolling even with the stock in limbo.”
“What did you get him on?”
“We only had proof of his financial misadventures. The other shit he mentioned to you—and your info corroborated similar intel from our private investigator—came to nothing. We couldn’t find proof of any of it. We did have a lot of evidence against him for financial crimes, so we went with that. Oh, and the police confiscated a cache of illegal hardware in his house.”
“Hardware?”
“Guns, baby, and lots of them. He was probably dealing in illegal weapons. So something should stick to him, and he won’t escape prison.
“Anyway…” he pulls me to him. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to spend time with my wife.”
“What do you want to do?”
He presses his lips together as he looks around. “Chef making dinner?”
“He just started. You’re early.”
“I know. Let’s go upstairs.”
My heart starts racing as he leads me by the hand upstairs. We’ve been married for a while now, but we’re newly intimate. Just holding his hand is new and wonderful, the feel of his warm skin and strong hand exciting.
When we get to the master bedroom, he pulls me in and closes the door. Tugs me over to the bed and with a gleam in his eye, shoves me lightly so I fall back to the bed. He watches me as he loosens his tie, undoes the top buttons of his shirt, kicks off his shoes.
I crawl up to my knees and scoot myself over to the edge of the bed. Grab his waistband and pull him closer to me. Undoing his belt, I yank it through the loops on his trousers. I run the belt through my fingers and hike my brows suggestively. His eyes widen with intense interest. I know we’re thinking the same thing. I know he enjoyed spanking me because I could feel his erection underneath me go from zero to eighty in the space of a few seconds that night.
I unbutton his pants as the bulge straining against the zipper teeth swells. Using a light touch, I rub it back and forth, up and down, and he thrusts his hips closer in response. I undo the rest of his buttons, and I slide the shirt off his shoulders, taking a few moments for my hands to rove, enjoying the taut muscles flexing beneath my palms. What a beauty he is and he’s all mine. I almost can’t believe it.
I’m about to tug his pants down when his phone rings—a strange beeping ringtone—and he rears back.
“Shit. I have to take that.” He stalks over to the phone and snatches it up. “Yes?”
I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of the line. He sounds majorly pissed off. I watch his face. His jaw clenches and the veins in his neck cord—sure signs of rising anger in Fletcher. “I’ll be right there.”
“What’s wrong? What was the weird ringtone?”
“It’s the one my house staff uses for an emergency. Kelly Raynor’s downstairs and causing trouble. Just give me a few minutes to get rid of her, sweets.”
That woman never gives up. “Yeah, sure.” I curl up near the headboard and watch him grab his shirt and dash out. Once he’s gone, I get up and creep out to the hall. There’s no way I’m missing the drama.
I hear them before I see them. The house is not that big and sound travels. Right now, the sound that is traveling is her yelling at him. His voice is comparatively calm, but I can tell by his tone that he’s truly pissed off. Before long, she stomps into the hallway, her heels clicking madly on the marble floor.
“You don’t know half of what you think you know about that woman, Fletcher.”
“And you do, I suppose?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Did you know she used to be some kind of call girl? I bet she never told you that.”
I gasp so loudly that I have to clap my hand over my mouth so they don’t hear me. That horrible woman is straight-out lying to Fletcher. I’m anxious to hear Fletcher’s response, so I take another step closer.
“I want you to be very clear about what I’m about to tell you. Marley is my wife. I love her very much, and I happen to know everything there is to know about her past. There’s nothing that you can tell me that I don’t already know. Do you understand?”
“You are such a fool to get sucked in by a viper like her. She only wants you for your money. She’s a gold-digging social climber.”
“And what do you want me for, Kelly?”
“Not your money. I want you for you.”
“Is it impossible for you to believe that Marley wants me for me also?”
“She and I are not of the same caliber, and you know it.”
“You’re right, I do know it. Marley is a kind, beautiful woman with a lot of grace and class. And you’re not.”
“Fuck you, Fletcher. I tried to help you, but I’m done trying. I hope she fleeces you and then leaves your ass when she’s done.”
“Thank you. You take care too. I hope we’ve finally seen the last of you, and I mean that sincerely. Hugo,” he calls out, “can you escort Ms. Raynor to the door? She’s leaving.”
He waits downstairs—I suppose until the woman is out of the house—and then I hear him say something unintelligible to someone. Hugo probably. I inch a little closer to the stairs.
“Possibly, sir. We’ll keep an eye out for her, especially where it concerns the missus.”
“Good.”
I’m waiting for him at the top of the stairs when he returns. He sees the grim look on my face and gives me an apologetic shrug. “She doesn’t give up.”
“No, clearly she doesn’t.”
“You don’t have to worry. Every staff member knows she’s not to cross the threshold of this house again. It’ll be fine. If it’s not, then we’ll move.”
Moving is not the worst idea. But that’s a thought for later. Right now, he needs to relax after that unpleasant encounter. I need to focus on him and not let her ruin our moment. When he reaches the top of the stairs, I go to him.
“Well,” I say as I melt into him, allowing him to feel all my curves and heat as I also try to shed the bad feelings Kelly brought out in me, “I can’t say I blame her. You are a big loss.” I run one finger down the side of his face from his brow to his sexy square jaw that I love to pieces.
He kisses me, gently at first, and then deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding in and dirty dancing with mine. All the while he’s pushing me backward toward the bedroom. “How big would you say,” he murmurs when we finally break our kiss.
“Very,” I answer in a breathy voice. “Massive.”
“I hope you can handle massive right about now.” He takes my hand and rubs it against his bulging hard-on. It feels like he’s packing heat.
“Wow.” I smile. “That’s impressive.” I spin around and run back into the bedroom. “First, you’ll have to catch me.”
He laughs and
follows me into the room, closing the door. I’m on the other side of the bed, and he cheats by climbing over it, but I dash to go around it. He tries to head me off at the pass but just misses. I run to the other side of the room.
Big mistake. I’m cornered. He approaches me with swagger, a predator confident of his kill. I giggle with excited panic, feeling the game in my accelerated heartbeat. When he gets close and lifts his hands to grab me, I attempt to duck under his arm to escape and almost make it, but he turns and slings his arm around my waist, the momentum causing me to spin around him.
We both fall to the floor, laughing.
I had already stripped down to my camisole and pants, so he quickly rips off my blush-colored silky top and then drags my pants and panties down to my ankles. He’s wearing his trousers, and his shirt is flapping open from where he hurriedly shrugged it back on when that old cock-block showed up. He shrugs off the shirt and then unzips. His erection is peeking out the top of his boxer briefs.
I lie back on the rug, kick off my pants, and open my legs to give him a good look. His eyes flame when he sees me flash him, and he gets up to strip off the rest of his clothes. When he’s bare, he gets back on the floor and crawls over to me, his eyes glowing with heat. When he reaches me, his hands cup my ass, lifting me, and he kisses me between my legs before lowering my body back to the floor and pressing himself into me.
Everything slows down. The room gets quiet and our sex, which started out rough and fun, has turned almost spiritual. He’s moving inside of me, but our eyes are locked together and we seem to be communicating silently, lovingly. This time spent with him feels important, not just sexual but intimate. As if we’ve crossed some bridge together.
It’s weird that we’ve lived together for months, and I feel as if I’ve just met him in a way. After we finish, he lifts me up and carries me over to the bed where we lie entwined.
Starting with cupping his hand on my face, he flattens it and lets it slide down my neck, over my shoulder, around my arm to my breasts. He lingers on those, pulling, kneading. Tweaking and pinching. “Did you know that your tits have been driving me crazy since I first laid eyes on you? You have no idea how many times I lay in my bed, knowing you were only a few damn feet away from me in another bedroom, and imagined what these looked like.”
Faker: A Fake Relationship Romance Page 32