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King's Fancy

Page 28

by Sable Hunter


  Fancy reveled in his attention, her body writhing at his touch. When his lips closed over the tender tip of her breast and he began to suckle, love and contentment welled up inside her like a bubbling spring. Her thighs opened of their own volition, her longing for him so intense that she couldn’t hold back. “I need you, Kingston Ramsay. I need you more than life.” She lifted her hips in supplication.

  King needed no further invitation. His cock ached to be enveloped in her warm, tight body. “Are you wet for me?” He slipped his hand between them, testing for her readiness. When he found her creamy and warm, he moaned, “Before this night is over, I’m going to kiss every inch of you, lick every freckle. But now…I can’t wait, I can’t hold back.” Raising himself over her, King guided himself inside of her, his eyelids falling in abject bliss as he felt her intimate walls tighten around him – squeezing him, welcoming, milking him with every undulation of her hips. “Now, that I’ve found you, loved you…” He brought his mouth to hers, drinking deeply from her lips. “Don’t ever leave me. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Leave him? She couldn’t conceive the possibility. “I never will,” she whimpered. “I promise.” Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hips lifting, meeting his every thrust. Fancy clung to him as he claimed her, pounding hard, his breathing shallow, his face contorting with ecstasy. Fancy’s eyes consumed him, watching everything, glorying in the thrill of his possession and the wonder of his love.

  As he covered her, his back arched, his entire body intent on giving and taking pleasure. Fancy felt fire blooming between her thighs, an urgency was mounting, a blissful feeling of completion that only he could give her. “Harder, King, I need…” Her voice failed her as he complied with her wish – thrusting, pounding, plunging inside of her over and over again – hard enough to make her body jostle upward in the bed, her breasts rubbing against his hard chest with every stroke.

  Fancy gasped with ecstasy as a brilliant white light blinded her. Earth’s hold on her seemed to disappear and she felt herself soaring among the clouds. Clinging to King, she acknowledged he was her reason for living, the only one she would ever need.

  With incredulous love, King watched her face, feeling her body tighten and tremble against him. His own crisis was at hand, the adoration he felt for this woman boiling up, ready to spill from his aching loins. Needing to prolong the pleasure as long as he could, he tried to pull back, tried to keep moving, needing to take her over the edge one more time.

  Fancy could sense his effort to hold on to his self-control. She could feel his determination, his strength – his power all focused on making sure she felt loved. “We’re together, this isn’t the end, this is just the beginning. Let go, love.” She buried her face in his chest. “We have the rest of our lives to love one another.”

  Her entreaty, her touch, the way she held him…all this coalesced to form a perfect moment. Groaning, he pumped and pumped, thrusting between her thighs. “Fancy!” he bellowed, spilling himself within her like a promise for the years to come.

  Fancy wove her fingers into his hair, caressing the stubble on his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. Dampness from his exertion beaded on his forehead. She thought he was the most perfect man in the world. Wrapping her legs and arms around him, she pulled him as close as could be.

  King sighed with satisfaction, rolling to one side, taking her with him, their bodies still joined. “When I go into town tomorrow, I’ll buy you a ring. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

  * * *

  A few weeks later, all of King’s men returned to the fold. There were changes afoot and challenges ahead, but they were taking the time to stand together with their Captain as he joined his heart and life to the woman he adored.

  With Bible in hand, Clay Bennett stood in front of the happy couple as the congregation assembled in a field of Texas sunflowers. The groom was dressed in a dark suit and the bride looked radiant in her favorite pink dress.

  All their neighbors and townspeople had been invited, even the Hewitt’s. Fancy intended to be gracious, but she was secretly glad the party she’d hinted at to Mavis had come to pass.

  “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of Holy Matrimony.” The words thrilled Fancy. Her hands trembled as she held the bouquet of pink roses to her breast.

  “Do you, Kingston Ramsay, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife – to love, to honor, to cherish, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do.” King’s voice was strong and sure.

  “And do you, Fancy Grace, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband – to love, to honor, to cherish, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do. Gladly.” She gave him a sweet smile.

  “Do you have a ring?”

  “I have.” King pulled it from his pocket. A simple gold band. Their friends stood in a semi-circle around them, lending their support. “With this ring, I thee wed. With this ring, I pledge my heart and soul to you, Miss Fancy. With this ring, I promise to love you all my days.”

  Fancy handed her bouquet to Amelia, Ace’s sister. She took it with a smile. The girl’s eyes were very sad, but Fancy was determined that she wouldn’t be sad for long. She wanted the whole world to be as happy as she was. Holding out her hand, she held her breath as King slipped the ring on her finger. “Thank you, my love. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

  King felt a lump rise in his throat. “I’m the lucky one.”

  Clay let them talk, but when they were through, he leaned in to whisper. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Needing no further encouragement, King grasped her to him and kissed Fancy hard and long, sealing their love, and showing every person there that she was his choice, his love, his Fancy.

  “It is with pride and great joy, that I introduce all of you to Mr. and Mrs. Kingston Ramsay!”

  Applause rose on every hand, as King swept Fancy up into his arms and carried her to the benches set up next to food-laden tables. Rodriguez – Fancy refused to call him Stinky – had gone all out, preparing enough food to feed the entire territory.

  “Congratulations, King!” Jericho came up to shake his hand and kiss Fancy’s cheek.

  “Thank you, this is the happiest day of my life,” she told them all as one by one, his loyal friends came to wish them well.

  “This is what we wanted for you, King,” Boone told him, placing a caring hand on his Captain’s shoulder.

  “Yea, you all knew best. I’m just glad fate intervened, and I didn’t end up with Anita Mae,” he laughed, glancing over at his red-headed angel.

  “Hard to believe you owe this fortunate mistake to Jubal Pierce’s interference,” Clay muttered as he sipped a cup of spiked punch.

  “He was an evil man, but sending me Fancy was one good deed he did for me.” King shook his head, regretting how things had gone down with the man who insisted on being his enemy. “The war is over; the past is behind us. I want to forget all that’s gone before, I even forgive my family for what they did to me.” He couldn’t take his eyes off his beautiful bride. “All of it worked together perfectly, every step I took led me to her.”

  Fancy looked up and saw her handsome groom watching her. She stood in a circle of ladies, all giving her their congratulations. She could see envy in a few of their eyes, and she didn’t blame them. King was hers. “Thank you all for coming, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my husband.”

  Her husband.

  As she moved toward him, King stepped out to meet her. “Are you ready to cut the cake, my bride?”

  “Yes, I am. The faster we can cut the cake, the faster we can start the honeymoon.”

  King threw back his head and roared with laughter. “That’s my girl.”

  She stood on tiptoe. “That’s right, I’m King’s Fancy, and don’t you forget it.”

  K
ing pulled her up tight in his arms, rested his head against hers, and closed his eyes in perfect contentment. “I never will, I promise.”

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  About the Author:

  Sable Hunter is a New York Times, USA Today bestselling author of nearly 60 books in 9 series. She writes sexy contemporary stories full of emotion and suspense. Her focus is mainly cowboy and novels set in Louisiana with a hint of the supernatural. Sable writes what she likes to read and enjoys putting her fantasies on paper. Her books are emotional tales where the heroine is faced with challenges. Her aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and swoon. If she can wring those emotions from a reader, she has done her job. Sable resides in Austin, Texas with her two dogs. Passionate about all animals, she has been known to charm creatures from a one ton bull to a family of raccoons. For fun, Sable haunts cemeteries and battlefields armed with night-vision cameras and digital recorders hunting proof that love survives beyond the grave. Welcome to her world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of her heroines and escape to places where right prevails, love conquers all and holding out for a hero is not an impossible dream

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