RECKLESS (A Whirlwind Romance)

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RECKLESS (A Whirlwind Romance) Page 9

by Vanna King


  I ride her like I’ve been fantasizing to do the past days. Hard. I grit my teeth as I watch myself pull out and sink, her cream coating my shaft abundantly.

  She’s making the sexiest sounds, her pussy clamping tighter around me, her nails biting into my forearms.

  Almost immediately, she comes, shuddering and whimpering in ecstasy.

  I hug her, and her limbs wrap around me like a haven. I savage her pussy, thrusting roughly, jarring her frame with every slam of my hips.

  My cum blazes its way out. I bury my face in her fragrant neck and surrender to the violent onslaught.

  I cry out harshly and erupt, filling her with my seed.

  It was so fucking sharp I see stars exploding like meteorites behind my eyelids.

  Jesus fucking H!

  I swear to have this piece of heaven every day of my life from now on. That motherfucker waiting at the church is not going to get this privilege.

  Over that fucker’s dead body!

  Chapter Twelve

  LEIGH

  The staccato sound breaks the sublime silence.

  Bron curses above me and moves.

  I open my eyes to see him holding a small two-way radio.

  “Go,” he says.

  “What do we do now, Boss? The ladies are going hysterical here. They’re late for the wedding. Their phones are blowing up with calls. Someone’s going to call the police if no one picks up.”

  “Shit! Okay, we stop. Bring them back in here.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  He puts the radio back in his pocket.

  I whimper in combined dismay and humiliation as I struggle to push him off of me. “Get off me!” I hiss at him.

  He pulls out.

  I feel liquid trickle out of me, and I want to die in shame.

  He picks up my panties from the floor and wipes me. I feel mortified, slapping his hand away.

  “Move away!”

  He sits on the opposite seat, leaning back heavily, sighing in masculine satisfaction. Then he tucks himself back in his pants.

  I’m almost in tears as I arrange my wedding gown around me. Oh God, I must look a fright now. What have I done?

  Momentary insanity!

  I touch my face and my hair.

  “Don’t worry. You still look perfect, goddess.

  I glare at him furiously, my self-respect in tatters. “Get out!”

  “You’re not going to marry that asshole, are you?”

  “Don’t call him names! You don’t even know him!”

  He smirks. “I know him alright.”

  My eyes widen. “What did you do? Bill is my father’s good friend. His family is one of the most respected in the whole of Illinois.”

  “Mine is one of the most feared in the entire country.”

  “All the more reason to avoid you then, huh?”

  He looks at me imperiously. “You can’t escape me, goddess. You’re mine.”

  The absolute certainty in his tone infuriates me further.

  “Who the hell do you think you are? Nobody owns me!”

  “Really? Is that why you’re marrying that fucker for his money?”

  I gasp. “How dare you. You don’t know me,” I say coldly.

  “I do. You told me your biggest regret. This is your chance to turn it all around. Break off the wedding. Come with me.”

  I stare at him, hysteria bubbling inside me now. “Go with you? Where? To Vegas? As what? Your mistress?”

  His hand snakes inside his suit and comes out with a tiny pouch. “Sorry, I didn’t bring the box. He fishes out what’s inside.

  My eyes widen. I’m looking at the most beautiful diamond ring. It’s huge!

  I watch, stupefied as he leans over, takes my hand and slips the ring on my finger. Just like that.

  “You will marry me.”

  I stare at the ring and then at him. He’s not even asking. He’s commanding me. Stripping me of my choice. Just like what my father did. Just like what Bill did.

  Damn these men! They’re all the same controlling, suffocating cavemen who throw women back to the Stone Age!

  “Now, compose yourself. You’re going to that church and tell your schmuck of a groom that you can’t marry him because you’re marrying me. Then we can all go home in peace. My jet is waiting for us at the airport. We fly back to Vegas in an hour.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but the limo stops again.

  He plants a soft kiss on my lips.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, goddess.”

  Before I can say anything, the door opens again.

  He steps out.

  Aria and my three bridesmaids come back in.

  LEIGH

  I breathe deeply to compose myself. I hope my guilt is not written all over my face. Thank God, the bastard didn’t mess up my makeup. He only touched me below the waist, and I still throb from the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave me, still feel his thickness stretching me, his hard length driving into the deepest part of me. I’m wet with his seed. I hope it doesn’t start trickling down my legs as I stand up.

  The limo’s door opens.

  “Miss Spencer?” The chauffeur’s voice snaps me out of my jumbled thoughts. Then my eyes widen again. This is Bron’s man. They hijacked my limo!

  He extends his hand to help me out. I glare at him and ignore him, clambering out awkwardly.

  Aria suddenly appears. “Leigh!” Her face is still flushed, but a knowing smile is plastered on her lips. “Are you alright?” she whispers.

  “How do I look?”

  She leans into my ear. “Beautifully fucked.”

  “Aria!” I glare at her. I really can’t hide anything from her.

  “You look divine, girl. Not a hair astray.”

  I sigh deeply.

  “That was him, wasn’t he? The Vegas guy?”

  Aria and the girls have been hounding me in the limo about what happened but I told them all to keep quiet and not speak of it to anybody. I couldn’t possibly tell them what exactly happened between Bron and I. I couldn’t even believe it happened.

  “Shut up and fix my veil,” I tell my best friend.

  She grins and pulls at my veil here and there. “He’s here. I saw him. He went into the church.”

  “Oh God.”

  “What are you gonna do?’

  Liza, the wedding coordinator, approaches us. “Ms. Spencer! You look perfect! Shall we?” She gestures to the church.

  Everyone seems to be inside now, waiting for me. The bride. The bride who just had sex in the bridal limo on the way to the church with a man who’s not the groom. In Vegas, I could still forgive myself, but today, my wedding day?

  I throw Aria a helpless look.

  “Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you,” she says and smiles at the coordinator. “Lead the way, Liza!”

  It’s my turn to march.

  My groom is waiting at the altar. My Dad is beside me.

  “You’ve made me and your mother very happy, Leigh,” he says, his eyes beaming. I can’t say the same for myself.

  I still feel my lover’s marks on my body. His scent will be forever in the air I breathe. His taste from that chaste kiss he’d bestowed on me before he disembarked from the limo, careful not to smear my lipstick, will be forever on my palate.

  I’m about to walk away from all of that. From the only man who has touched me in places no man ever has.

  My body. My soul.

  God, what am I going to do?

  Elvis Costello’s ‘She’ fills the air. Bill chose this particular song for my wedding march. I can’t move. My legs seem to have turned into stone.

  “Ms. Spencer?” Liza prompts me.

  I hesitantly wrap my hand on my father’s arm. I force myself to walk.

  We step out of the vestibule. Into the church filled with my parents’ and Bill’s relatives, friends and political allies.

  This is more than just a simple wedding. This is a merging of power.
I will be the link that will bind the Spencer and Peyton political alliance. It would have been a dream match if my heart was in the right place. But it’s somewhere else. Someone else holds it. And he will probably hold it forever.

  This realization hits me as I walk down the aisle, inching closer to the altar, to the man who will become my husband. My feet are a dead weight now, and I’m dragging my steps as pieces of me fall to the floor like old leaves, withering away.

  God, I can’t do this.

  But how can I not do this? My parents’ happiness versus mine.

  Right this moment, I have to choose. And really, it’s no contest.

  I love my parents.

  You love HIM.

  My tears threaten to fall, and I hold them back, or my makeup will be ruined.

  “You will marry me.”

  I thumb the ring he’s slipped on my finger. It’s a beautiful rock, easily dwarfing my engagement ring. But it’s not the rock that’s making Bill pale in comparison. It’s the man. The man I love.

  We reach the altar.

  BRON

  She’s really going to go through with it. Marry another man after she gave her virginity to me. After she writhed under me in the limo just minutes ago, milking my cock, coming all over it hard. After I gave her my ring!

  Rage fills me. If the little witch thinks she can fuck me and just dump me for some other motherfucker, she’s got another think coming.

  She will pay for this. She will learn her place.

  That place is with me. On her knees. On her back. Bending over. On my lap. In my bed. In my life. In my fucking heart.

  She’s MINE! This pompous wedding can’t stop me from claiming what is mine.

  She reaches the altar. The motherfucker who’s dreaming of taking what’s mine smiles at her, his face lighting up like he’s hit the motherlode of all gold mines. Poor fucker. I hate to do this, but she leaves me no choice.

  The Reverend speaks. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to witness and celebrate…”

  I step into the aisle, and slowly walk toward the altar.

  The church starts to buzz, people whispering to each other.

  I keep my eyes at the bride. This is going to be a tabloid field day, the kind I’ve been avoiding, but it’s too late to worry about that. I should have just kidnapped her after fucking her brains out in the limo instead of giving her a choice. The little witch doesn’t know what’s good for her if it hits her in the head.

  How dare she defy me like this? I am her mate. The one destined to take care of her, to love her until death.

  The Reverend notices me at last and pauses with his spiel.

  I stop at the foot of the altar.

  Chapter Thirteen

  LEIGH

  I feel like like I’m going to expire in my Vera Wang. The woman will probably kill me and will never speak to my mother again, and that will get me in further trouble because she’s my Mom’s favorite designer, and my silly thoughts are making my brain more addled.

  God, I can’t do this. I really can’t! I can’t marry Bill while Bron watches somewhere in the church.

  I look at Bill beside me, ready to blurt out my apologies.

  The Reverend stops speaking and peers behind us. “Excuse me, sir?”

  I glance behind me and I nearly faint.

  Bron’s standing there, looking so cool.

  “Bron!” Bill exclaims. “You came!”

  I’m doubly shocked at Bill’s reaction. He actually looks delighted to see Bron as if they know each other. But that’s impossible. I look at Bill again, questioningly.

  “We’ll talk later, okay, Bron? I’m getting married here if you haven’t noticed. I’ll see you at the reception.”

  I can’t believe this. Is Bill trying to make a joke? Doesn’t he realize what’s happening? Bron is crashing our wedding. No, ruining it!

  Bron doesn’t even look at Bill. He addresses the Reverend. “Forgive me for interrupting the ceremony, Reverend, but can you just go to the part where you ask the congregation if anybody objects to this union?” He said it loud enough to be heard by everyone.

  Shocked gasps from the congregation.

  “What’s this, Bron? What are you doing?” Bill demands, an edge to his voice now.

  Bron smirks. “Do you want me to tell him, Leigh, or you will do the right thing?”

  Bill looks at me now, puzzlement in his eyes.

  I glance at my parents at the front row to my right. My father’s mouth is open, eyes bulging. My mother’s face is pale in shock, her hand in her throat as if she can’t breathe.

  Oh, God, this is a disaster! I don’t even dare to look at the guests in attendance. My aunts and uncles are all here. My cousins. The entire Spencer clan! I will never live this down. My family will be the laughing stock of the entire city. No, the whole country!

  “Leigh?” Bill’s voice is hard now.

  My eyes go back to him, and I see a coldness in his gaze that I’ve never seen before. “What’s this?”

  “I’m sorry…”

  Bill suddenly grabs my shoulders, his fingers biting painfully into my flesh. “You are forgiven,” he whispers to me fiercely, his eyes intense.” Now, let’s get on with the wedding.”

  I’m shocked. I can’t believe what Bill just said.

  I glance at Bron again. He raises a brow at me, deceptively calm, but I know he’s not leaving until he gets what he wants.

  Me.

  He really dared! In front of my family! In front of the media covering the event!

  Bron raises his arm toward me, beckoning me to go to him.

  I look in Bill’s eyes again, imploring. “I’m so sorry, Bill, but I can’t. You deserve someone better.”

  With that, I hike up my dress and turn around, heading for the side exit of the altar.

  “Leigh!” I hear Bill call out to me, but I don’t look back.

  I run, thankful for the years of training to walk and dance in heels. I don’t stumble. I cross the door jamb. Fresh air greets my overheating face. My heart is lodged in my throat, and I can hardly breathe.

  A hand grabs my arm. I know who it is in an instant. I spin around to face him. “Are you happy now?” I snarl at him.

  He smiles. “Quite.”

  I wrench my arm from his grasp. He lets me go. I point at him with my forefinger. “Stay away from me!”

  “You can’t mean that, baby.”

  I turn away, walking briskly. “I mean it!” I march toward the parking lot. He’s right behind me. God, I love the man, but he scares me to death. He crashed my wedding like he owned the damn church! He’s a tyrant of the first order. His family is most likely in the mob! How can I get involved with a man like that? My parents will never approve of him. Like I still have parents, anyway.

  “Leigh, stop. Look at me.”

  I keep walking. The next thing I know, I’m up on his shoulder like a sack of potato. I shriek, kicking my feet. “Put me down!” I beat on his back, but I’m like hitting a concrete wall.

  He smacks my ass hard. I shriek louder, my ass on fire. ”Bastard!”

  He walks faster, and I’m getting dizzy from having too much blood rush to my head. My entire world has turned upside down, literally!

  Then he stops.

  He dumps me inside another limo. I’m cussing and screaming at him, uttering words I never knew I was capable of. This man has brought out the worst in me.

  He climbs in after me and slams the door shut. The limo moves.

  “What the hell are you doing?! This is kidnapping, Bron!”

  “Are you really not coming with me on your own free will?”

  “No!”

  “Then this is kidnapping, alright. I’m sure your parents will sic the entire Chicago PD on my ass anytime now.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

  He shrugs. “I came fully loaded.”

  “W-what do you mean?”

  He pulls out something from his back.
>
  I freeze in fear at the sight of the gun in his hand.

  “You want me dead or alive, baby?” he asks me like he’s asking if I want cream or sugar in my coffee. I stare at him in disbelief. Oh my God, I’m in love with a homicidal sociopath!

  “I’m not leaving this city without you, Leigh. Choose.”

  I shake my head. “You. Are. CRAZY!”

  He smiles. “Only for you, goddess. Only for you.”

  BRON

  She demands a phone.

  I hand her mine. I watch her dial a number with shaking fingers. It connects immediately.

  “Mom?”

  I listen to her talk to her mother, her voice, frantic.

  “Mom, I’m fine. No, Mom…no, I know him. Yes, I do. I’m fine. Really! He didn’t abduct me. Please, don’t call the police!”

  She cringes in her seat, shrinking from what I can tell her mother berating her on the other line. Tears gather in her eyes, and my chest constricts as if a fist is squeezing around my windpipe. Shit, my pet peeve number one now is seeing her cry. Or sad.

  I’m just testing her, of course. The police won’t chase us. Peyton won’t even dare utter anything against me or his company is toast. There won’t be a manhunt or any of that shit. I’ve already taken care of that on my way here. Luc rules the casino biz in Chicago. Just a few well-placed calls to well-connected people who owe my family and they’d even escort me to the airport accompanied by a marching band.

  But I don’t tell her that. I want her to come with me on her own free will. I want her to choose me. And she’s doing just that at the risk of being disowned by her parents. My heart is swelling with immense joy.

  “Mom, he’s my…he’s my boyfriend. Yes. I met him in Vegas when I went there. I’m going with him to Vegas. Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean for this to—Mom…?” She stares at the phone and sighs, her shoulders slumping.

  Her mother has hung up on her apparently.

  She meets my eyes. “Wipe that smirk off your face, you megalomaniac,” she snaps at me.

 

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