by Amy Faye
The wedding went as few weddings do, though it followed the same steps. She walked down the aisle. She didn't cry. There was no father to walk with her, so she walked alone, her chin high and her back straight.
One thing did knock on her stubborn confidence, though. The way that Troy looked at her. It was like his eyes were filled with awe, devotion, pure love… even though their marriage wasn't real. The wedding wasn't real. She was flattered at first, but then hatred took over. She hated him for looking at her like that, mocking her pain. Elle seriously considered punching him in the face.
Their vows were short:
“I'll do my best,” she said.
“I'll care for you, protect you, as long as you allow me,” he said.
And then they were off, like a whirlwind, forced into the back of a limo their Grandma Rosa had insisted on. Even Grandma Ina had hated the idea, calling it gauche. The ride was awkward and silent, with both of them staring out of their windows.
Finally, the silence was too much for her. “I'm glad this will be over soon. I hate being the center of attention. My anxiety medication is going to wear off soon.”
He looked at her, again with that sappy look in his eyes. His hand shot out and took hers, squeezing it. “I had no idea you were dealing with anxiety. I'm so sorry. If I can –”
“You can't do anything about it. I've had it my whole life.” She felt bad for cutting him off. “Thanks for asking, though. I just… want to go home as soon as I can.”
“Got it. I'll look for a way out, even if it's rude.”
Gratitude washed through her. She smiled, looking out her window again with a small, “Thanks.”
Italiana was Elle's mother's favorite restaurant. It was also the only restaurant that would allow such a small group reserve their room for parties. It was a small, family owned restaurant near to Elle's house.
“Is the food here good?” Troy asked, helping her out of the limo. Her shoes had given her blisters after walking around in them for the wedding.
“It's not bad. It's not authentic or anything, but it's authentic Americanized Italian food. My mom liked it.” She smiled at the memories of Sunday dinners with her parents at that restaurant, where all of the staff and most of the customers were members of the same church as her family. The restaurant was like family, for a while. Until she stopped going to church when her parents both died.
He nodded, holding her hand as he led the way into the restaurant. She tried her best to keep her fingers from trembling. Inside, he blocked the restaurant's view of her with his body, taking most of the attention from her.
She was so thankful, so incredibly grateful for that tiny mercy.
In the room, Aunt Viviana and Uncle Blaine were both already working on getting drunk. Rosa and Ina had also had some champagne and were thoroughly getting on each others nerves.
“Are you going to drink tonight?” He whispered to her.
She shook her head. “No. I don't want to make things worse.”
“Then I won't, either.”
They all sat at one table, since their party was so small, and were served huge plates of spaghetti and pizza. Elle ate timidly, listening to Troy and Jack chat with one another but never really talking to anyone else.
Then the ritual started. Troy's aunt Stephanie started to clink her glass, encouraging the bride and groom to kiss. They looked at one another, both like deer in the headlights.
“What do we do?” Elle squeaked.
“I guess we kiss. Take a deep breath.”
She did, and he moved in close. His warmth was upon her before his lips touched hers. It was a brief, but sweet, kiss. Aunt Stephanie and Aunt Viviana both let out a happy sigh.
“So sweet.”
“What a beautiful couple.”
“They'll make beautiful babies!”
Elle tried to eat more, but she had completely lost her appetite. The glasses clinked again. Troy waited for her, but she couldn't do it. Not even once more.
She stood from the table, running to the woman's bathroom. The room behind her was silent as she left.
Get it together, Elle, she thought. Looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes didn't show half of the pain she was feeling inside. Her heart thumping. Her hands shaking like an earthquake. Her chest hurt, her throat tightened.
The door opened, and she expected it to be one of the aunts. Or one of the grandmas. Hell, even Troy.
She didn't expect it to be Jack, looking like a predator as he stepped closer. His big shoulders seemed tense, his hands reaching towards her slightly. Every step he moved closer to her made her more sure that she didn't want him anywhere near her.
“Um, this is the women's...” She whispered, meekly. He grinned, licking his lips.
“I know.” He stepped closer still, pressing her against the wall. Taking her arms, he pinned them above her and pressed his rough lips against hers. “You taste so sweet. You don't have to be scared. I know that wedding was a fraud, so it's fine if you want to have some fun with me.”
“I don't!” She said, trying to pull away. He was too strong for her, though, and held her in place with only one hand holding her wrists. The other reached down and tore the sleeve of her dress away from the body, revealing her bra.
“Oh, you don't have to lie when we're alone. Come on. Give in.” His leg pushed between hers, pressing up against her mound. “Let me fuck you.”
“No!” She screamed. “Get the hell off of me!” She struggled in vain to get away until they were both shocked by a loud crash.
Troy
Troy had a bad feeling as soon as Jack stood up. “Where are you going?” He asked.
“Gotta piss, dude.” Jack gave him a flippant grin and left his sight. That feeling wouldn't go away, though. It grew in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to doubt his friend, but his gut was screaming at him to follow! Go see if Elle is okay! Make sure Jack isn't doing something horrible!
Maybe he was just being paranoid because of their weird conversations about women. Troy just never saw Jack as that guy. The kind of guy that uses women like they're sex toys more than people.
After the wedding, Troy knew he probably wouldn't be spending much more time with Jack. Which was sad. They were really close, really good friends, but this wasn't something he could overlook.
It was one thing to be addicted to sex, to have one night stands and never settle down. It was another thing entirely to expect them to want to be used by you, to basically see them as toys that could be bent to your will.
Troy was drinking away his rage when he heard the shout.
“… Off of me!” The words were quiet, just barely able to be heard over the loud laughter of the drunk old women. It was immediately obvious to him that it was Elle's voice, though. Her scream, plus Jack being gone. He shot up, running towards the sound. The women's bathroom.
He kicked the door in with his powerful legs and saw Elle pressed up against the wall, with Jack looking over his shoulder at Troy.
“Troy! Help, please!” She cried. Elle was struggling to get her hands free, but Jack had her pinned hard.
With a deft grip on his friend's collar and a quick twist, he threw him to the ground and was on him in a second, his fist hitting its mark every time. Right in Jack's fucking nose, then his cheek, then his mouth. His first blow broke his nose.
“She wanted me, man! You shouldn't have come in!” Jack coughed between punches. A waiter ran in then, thin but with some muscle on him.
“You,” Troy said, pointing at the waiter. “Get this piece of shit out of my wedding. Now. And then clean up his blood from the floor.”
He stepped away from Jack, who was nursing his face and groaning in pain. Looking behind him, Troy saw Elle cowering on the floor, still pressed against the wall. The top of her dress was torn, revealing her breast. “I thought today couldn't get any worse,” she cried through hiccups and sobs.
The comment stung. What was so vile about him that made her hate him? But it wasn't the
right time to address that. He went to her, pulling her into his arms after covering her breast.
He couldn't hold it in anymore. “Why do you do that?” He whispered, watching the waiter pull Jack to his feet and then from the room.
“Do what?” She asked, her voice miserable. Troy didn't know if he wanted to slap her to bring her to her senses, or kiss her in the hopes that it would heal her emotional wounds.
“Why do you shut people out and sabotage yourself? I'm not here to hurt you, and yet you're still insulting me.” He truly felt hurt. Pissed, yes, but also hurt.
“I'm not,” she protested, looking up. Her eyes were read, her nose running.
He sighed. “Then you must really hate me, if the insults are unconscious.”
She pulled away. “I don't hate you!” Then, more quietly, “I really don't. I just don't know how to act around you.”
“Then prove it, Elle. I don't like playing this game with you. You have to choose, you're either going to be hot or cold. Not alternating every day, based on some whim that even you don't understand. It's not fair to me, and I don't think it's fair to you, either.”
She looked into his eyes for a long time, then inched slowly closer to him. She pressed her lips against his, and unlike the kiss during the wedding, or the one the aunts coaxed out of them, her lips weren't tight across her face, cold. They were warm and inviting, soft and sweet.
His tongue slipped between her lips. She allowed it, sliding hers against it with a giggle. “I've never done that,” she said into his mouth.
“Let's do it again, then.” So they did. For a long time, they sat in that bathroom and kissed. Then Troy pulled away and stood up, scooping her into his arms. She giggled again.
“What are you doing?” She asked, smiling. Her tears were gone.
“We're leaving early. Let the old ladies get drunk. We're going home.”
Chapter 7
Elle
She stepped out of the limo, ready to use her own two legs to walk again, but Troy swept her up into his big, muscular arms again. “Hey!” She laughed. “I can walk, you know!”
“You're not walking until we're through that door. A man always carries his new wife through the door. That's just how this stuff works.” He was grinning ear to ear.
Her thoughts went erratic every time he looked at her. She wasn't quite sure when her ambivalence had turned to need, but she needed him, then. “Take me inside.”
Holding her body easily, he brings her into his house and locked the door behind them. “Where to now?”
“Up the stairs,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “To my bedroom.”
“Really?” He asked, surprised.
She nodded. “This isn't going to be a regular thing, so don't get any ideas, but you're my hero tonight. And I think it would do us some good to, you know. Get it over with.”
“Right,” he said. “Duty.”
She took his face between her hands and kissed his lips. “This isn't just about duty. I do want to sleep with you. Please, take me. If anyone's going to be my first, I would rather it be you.”
His tongue skimmed her trembling lips as they kissed again. Needing him was making her incredibly uncomfortable, but she had to admit that she did need him. Desperately. Not just as a protector, but she needed him beside her in bed. She needed inside her, too. Her stomach was starting to flutter with butterflies as he carried her up the steps. Roman's tail thumped on the couch as they passed by, but he remained there, not following them up the stairs.
His hands pressed against her hip, feeling her curves. His very touch made her panties moisten. The sound of his breath enthralled her.
Once they reached the bedroom, he looked at her curiously. "Set me down," she said. He left her on the bed, then stepped away. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not going to do anything you aren't ready for me to do."
"Well, I'm ready for you to touch me," she said, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her breast. "Here."
He slowly grabbed her breasts, probing delicately at her soft flesh. Rubbing lightly, he made her wriggle beneath his attention.
Her most primal needs were stirring with rapid, shallow breaths. Troy seemed to perceive her desire, pushing on her chest to force her to lay down.
Taking her dress, ruined though it was, he pushed the skirt up to her knees, then to her hips. She pressed her feet against the bed so that he could slip it beneath her ass, letting the bottom rest on her stomach.
Grasping her knees, he eased them apart then slipped her ankles over his shoulders. Hot lips pressed to her calves, kissing up to her knees then her thighs, alternating back and forth from her left leg to her right until he found his prize.
Pushing her silky, cream colored panties to the side, his tongue immediately dipped and swirled into her folds.
She felt dazed and mellowed as he licked the hard nub that held so many pleasant nerves inside. "Oh, Troy," she gasped, gripping her sheets. "That feels soooo good. Please don't stop."
He chuckled into her mound, kissing the lips and pushing his tongue into the hole. Her legs clamped around his head in the fervor of her response.
Her hot honey started to pour onto his tongue, her eyes slid shut in ecstasy. She was going to have her first orgasm given by someone else.
With quivering thighs and a cry of release, she shuddered an orgasm.
“We can stop now, if you want,” he said.
“No! Keep going! Keep touching me, please!” She begged. She didn't want him to leave her alone. His touch was everything she wanted, her only desire and need then.
He looked up into her eyes, and she saw the heart rending tenderness that was held in them. If her parents had learned to love one another, couldn't she do the same with Troy?
“Stand up, let me help you get that dress off,” he said. The underlying sensuality of his words made the breath catch in her throat. The release from her orgasm was gone, and her body was tensing up with desire once again.
She stood and his hand brushed against her shoulder. He cupped her face, touched his lips to hers again, then to her neck. His hands gripped her dress and pulled it up, quickly, over her head.
“That was easier to take off than it was to get on,” she muttered. A grin flashed across his face, then he pulled her in for a hug. His fingers fiddled with the metal clasps of her bra until they finally came free. She kept her head against his chest, breathing in his scent.
Using her hands, she popped the buttons of his coat, then his shirt. He slid both off of his shoulders, revealing his strong, powerful torso once again. Her mouth found his skin, kissing his pecks and down to his abs.
A groan came from his mouth as she unbuckled his belt, then undid his pants. They slid down easily, and he stepped out of them, leaving only his boxer briefs to be removed.
She pressed her hand against the beast beneath that thin fabric, but he slipped a finger beneath his chin. “Stand up. Let me finish undressing you. I want to see you.”
She blushed and stood, allowing his eyes to find her breasts for the first time. The tips of his fingers brushed against her nipples, making them stiffen with a sigh. Then he fell to his knees, catching her panties with his fingers and slowly, achingly pulling them down her long thighs and to the floor. Her shoes came off last, with a kiss to each toe.
He kissed up her calf again, then her thigh, and pressed his lips to her pelvis, burying them in the brown pubic hair. His brazen hands gripped her bare ass, squeezing it and eliciting a squeal from her.
Something intense flared within her as he guided her to the bed once again. She was about to be taken by him, and there was no turning back from that. Once he had her, she was his. She knew that, then, and it unsettled her. Her unwanted devotion, bubbling up from deep within her psyche, scared her.
Pressing his hands against her thighs, he opened them to him again. Standing between them, he pulled down his boxer briefs and unleashed the monster that rested within. It was already hard and the hood g
listened with precum.
She gasped. “It's bigger than I remember!” She said, sitting up. Or, trying to. He pressed her back down.
“Stay there. This is going to hurt, but I'll go slow. After a few strokes, it will probably feel just fine.”
She nodded. “I've used a toy, before, so it might not,” she said.
She was wrong.
It was the size of his cock, not the fact that she was a virgin, that caused the pain. As he pressed the tip into her, it stretched her to the point of discomfort. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed his arms and dug her nails in.
“You look scared. Do you want me to stop?” His voice was tender, gentle, and patient.
She shook her head. “Keep going. You just have to – Oh!” The head popped in, then, and as she was about to say, everything became much easier after that. Slowly, slowly, he pushed into her until his testicles rested against her.
She squirmed under him, the discomfort slowly fading away. He pulled out a little, then thrust back in. The shallow thrusts helped to replace the pain with pleasure. Soon, she was gliding her own hips against his, moving in time with him.
Taking her left ankle, he put it over his shoulder and repositioned her. “Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned. Giving her a controlled thrust, he moved within her more easily while his clever hands kneaded her breasts. Her nipples were pinched before his pointer fingers and his middle fingers.
Abruptly, she was gathered up. He held her so that their bodies touched in almost every spot while he pounded into her. “Oh, oh,” she cried, wrapping her arms around his masculine neck. “This feels so incredible!”
“Better than one of your toys, I hope,” he smirked, kissing her collar bone.
“Soooo much better!” She said. Being with him felt amazing, and she wanted it to never end.
He pushed slowly in, then slowly out, their hips meeting together at the apex, their mouths tasting and sucking on skin and lips. She groaned with her eyes tightly shut as another orgasm rolled through her. Troy's loud grunt signaled his own orgasm, as he spilled his milky white cum deep inside of her.