by Lee Savino
My inner thighs clenched, but I shook his fingers off. “This won’t change anything, Joel. I’ll still be on the run, I’ll still be in danger.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. How was he so calm? “This will allow you to collect your trust. You can transfer it to a safe place, and decide what to do next. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Isabelle. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I slumped a little in my seat. Joel’s fingers left my chin, and his car door slammed.
When I opened my eyes, the neon light was all I saw.
I sat frozen as Joel came around and opened my side. He unbuckled me, and stepped back.
“Little one.” He held out a hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Joel…”
“Do you need a reminder of who’s in charge?”
He would spank me, right here, right now. In the middle of the parking lot.
I took his hand and let him help me out of the car, pointing silently to make sure I collected my purse. As I stepped in front of him, he smoothed a hand down my back and bottom, as if making sure my skirt covered my ass. It woke the sting in my rear all over again.
“Just a reminder,” he murmured, and put an arm around me to escort me up to the building.
Joel walked me to the front entrance, but stepped to the side when we reached the door, drawing me with him. He set my back to the side of the building, and loomed over me.
“What are you doing?” We were between a big bush and the building, his big body blocking me from seeing beyond him to the door.
He turned to me, serious again, and suddenly, his hand was between my thighs. He gave a deep sound of satisfaction. I was so wet, he slid right in. Those thick fingers of his, almost too much to take, working in and out of me. A little rough, bruising, but so, so good. My thighs fell wider apart, I started to clench around him, and… he stopped.
My eyes flew open in time to see the wicked glint in his eyes. His hand disappeared into the pocket of his jeans and re-emerged with a scrap of black lace—my missing panties.
“Better be decent for our wedding,” he said. He insisted on helping me into them, one foot at a time, before shimmying them up to my hips. My cheeks burned. Anyone could pass us and see… but no one did.
Joel inclined his head.
“Let’s go.”
He took hold of my hand and kept hold of it as he led me into the chapel, which was a good thing, because my legs had turned to Jell-O, and I stumbled past the stoop. The inside was just as kitsch as the neon sign suggested, with gaudy crucifixes and images of the Virgin Mary everywhere, along with fluorescent-colored fake flowers, and various good luck charms. A gray-haired man with a long beard was sitting behind a desk, and he bounded to his feet as we arrived. “You folks looking to get married?”
“We sure are,” Joel said.
The man clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s just fantastic. You folks are my first this evening. You have your ID documents?”
I fumbled in my purse for mine and handed it over, and Joel also handed over his card. The celebrant tapped away at his computer. Then he raised a bushy eyebrow. “Will you be needing rings? We’ve got a small selection.”
“The best you’ve got,” Joel confirmed and took the ring sizing tool to measure my finger. “Five and a half.”
The celebrant pulled out a tray of properly sized wedding rings, and pointed to one in the middle. “This is our most exclusive.”
Joel took it and held it up to the light, examining it.
“Looks good,” he said at last. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. My silly heart twinged at the endearment as I took the ring with trembling fingers. It was a nice ring, white gold, and it looked like decent quality, not that I was any kind of expert.
“Two, please,” Joel told the guy.
What was even happening? My brain was a little numb.
“Joel…” I whispered. Joel turned back to me, his body blocking the celebrant from my view. “Are you sure?”
His eyes crinkled. “About the rings? Of course.”
I licked my lips, looking at him pleadingly.
He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m sure, Isabelle. Let me do this for you.”
“Okay.” My voice trembled.
Joel cupped my cheek a moment and I leaned into his touch. Then he straightened, and turned us both to face the old man. “We’re ready now.”
The celebrant turned back from where he was pretending to be busy with the ring collection and gave us a grandfatherly smile. “Okay folks, take a seat here. I just need to run through the legal stuff. And if you have any special vows, you can say them to each other after.”
I barely listened as the man recited the required text, asking us to repeat various lines. This was a dream. There was no way this was happening in real life. Joel stood beside me, strong and so handsome. A rock I could lean on.
Are you sure? I asked Joel with my eyes. He dipped his head.
“You folks have anything you want to add?” the celebrant said.
I don’t deserve this were the only words I could think of. But then I would cry, and it would freak the guy out.
Joel turned to me, and took my hand in his. “Isabelle, I am marrying you of my own free will, and all of my heart. And I think we will be very happy together,” he said.
My breath caught in my throat and I bit down on the end of my tongue to stop myself from bursting into tears. So much for not crying.
Then Joel slipped the ring onto my finger, and I slipped the other ring onto his.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the celebrant said.
Joel took me in his arms. He dipped me a little, enough so I was off balance and totally supported in his arms. Then he lowered his head, his clean sawdust scent surrounding me. His stubbled chin rasped against my face, and his lips slanted across mine. His tongue probed, and when I opened my lips, it swept inside.
Surrender.
When Joel set me back on my feet, I clutched at him to keep upright. My husband. I’m married.
“Good girl,” Joel murmured. And somehow, I felt all right.
That’s my husband, sitting beside me, I thought all the way home. And I got so self-conscious that I couldn’t even look at Joel.
Back at the ranch, I looked around with new eyes. I was a married woman now. It didn’t seem possible. I used to dream about having a big engagement party, then a long leadup to the wedding, with lots of planning, sending invitations, booking venues. I’d imagined how excited my mom would be. Then the big wedding, with lots of guests, and my dad giving a speech, and the fairytale white dress I would be wearing.
Well, if there was one thing I’d learned in life so far, it was that nothing turned out the way you expected it.
As I opened the front door of the house, Joel grabbed me from behind and swept me into his arms.
I gave a little shriek of surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you over the threshold, of course,” he said, close to my ear. I laughed, and protested as he brought me inside.
He insisted on carrying me through the house, all the way to his bedroom, where he deposited me on the bed.
“Joel, I can’t sleep here,” I said.
“Of course you’re going to sleep here. You’re my wife now.” His voice had turned low and growly, and it sent tremors through me.
He laid his hand at the base of my throat, and raked it the length of my body. “And now we’re going to consummate our marriage.”
Consummate.
The word lit a fire inside me. I liked that it was so old-fashioned. So formal sounding. As a teen, I used to wonder if I’d still be a virgin on my wedding day. I got that weird squirmy feeling in my tummy again—the one that started whenever Joel and I did anything out of the ordinary.
He stripped off my dress, my bra, and my panties. And there I was, naked again, while he was fully dressed. He lay on top of me, pushing my thighs apart a
nd kissing me hard, possessively. His cock swelled beneath his zipper, and the fabric was rough against my bare sex. I could feel how wet I was, how much I needed him inside me.
He kissed a burning trail from my lips to my throat, along my collarbone, then he took my breasts into his mouth—first one and then the other, his tongue lapping at the tender buds, sucking until it almost hurt.
Then his head dipped lower, his lips brushing over my stomach and down to my hipbones, teasing, teasing. Spreading my legs wide apart with his hands; butterfly kisses on my inner thighs.
When he finally licked my clit, I almost lifted right off the bed.
He licked me back and forth, all over my bare pussy, making low sounds of appreciation. I quit feeling self-conscious, and relaxed. Enjoyed the amazing sensation of his mouth on me.
Soon, my hips started to move rhythmically in little jerks, my insides started to clench, and the feeling got bigger and bigger, until I exploded with a wild cry, climaxing beneath my husband’s skillful tongue.
“Stay right there,” Joel commanded, climbing off the bed.
Still tingling from my orgasm, I did as I was told, lying spread out, thighs wide apart, watching as he stripped off his clothes.
All that tanned, muscular flesh, and then his cock, jutting out, bigger and thicker than ever. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and rubbed it up and down, while his eyes ran all over my body like he was deciding what to do with me.
I quivered in anticipation, with a mixture of nerves and arousal. His cock looked dangerous, like a weapon.
He climbed up the bed and over me, straddling my chest. Now his cock was inches from my mouth. When he brought the head to my lips, I instinctively parted them, and he slid it in.
It went in deep like this, with my head angled back on the pillow. It filled my mouth and hit the back of my throat.
“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured, and a wave of yearning went through me. More than anything, I wanted to make him feel good, to satisfy him like he’d satisfied me.
He started to thrust in and out. It was hard to breathe, hard not to choke on him, but I did my best, trying to take as much of him as I could. My pussy ached like crazy while he fucked my mouth. It felt so hot to be used like this. Dirty and kind of wrong, but as hot as hell.
Soon, his thrusts got rougher, and as his own climax approached, he pulled out abruptly.
“Not yet,” he said.
A moment later, his big thick cock was between my legs, entering me. He pushed inside me with one big thrust, and slid home with a groan. I spasmed around him, little ripples of aftershock from my orgasm.
“Consummated,” I whispered.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said huskily. “We’re really man and wife now.”
He fucked me in long, smooth strokes, and I started to come again. It was ridiculous. Not possible. One orgasm welling up after another. The thrusts of his cock in perfect time with my own natural rhythm. He stayed right on top of me this time, and at the moment when he climaxed, he was looking deep into my eyes. I knew I’d never forget that look on his face. So full of passion and emotion. When he collapsed on top of me, pressing his face into my neck, my eyes teared up.
That was it. We’d consummated our marriage. Not a real marriage—one of convenience, to save my skin. But still, in the way that mattered most to me, Joel was my husband, and his big, hard cock was buried deep inside me.
Chapter 11
Joel
My wife.
I could have sworn she’d fallen asleep in my arms last night. But now she was on the far side of the bed, turned away. At least she was still in my bed. That was good enough for now.
The sheet had slipped down and her lovely back was bare, her pale golden skin standing out against the white sheets. The sight of her newly auburn hair startled me, and then I remembered—she was trying to get back to her old self, and I appreciated that more than I could say.
Isabelle Stevens. Isabelle Hudson. There was no reason for her to take my name. The marriage certificate was the important part. But I would think of her as Mrs. Hudson anyway.
Mine.
As crazy as the past few hours had been, I didn’t regret it one bit. I lifted my hand and examined my new wedding ring. I’d get some better ones soon. She deserved the best.
I’d told her I wasn’t into marriage. But that was a big fat lie. I only said it to persuade her to go through with it. The truth was, I’d always hoped I’d marry my dream girl one day—the one who could share my lifestyle kink with me. And it looked like that girl was Isabelle.
Dawn’s light was slanting through the windows. It was time to get up and see to the ranch, but I was in no rush to go anywhere. Hell, the cows were okay. They had plenty of grass to eat. Instead, I lay on my side, and watched my new wife sleeping.
At long last, she began to stir, making adorable sleepy sounds that connected directly with my heart. I held my breath as she turned over and blinked several times. I wanted to be the first thing she saw—and I was.
She blinked some more, and her eyes widened.
“Good morning, my beautiful wife,” I said with a grin, trying to play it down so she didn’t freak out. She swallowed, and I saw her throat contract.
“Do you regret it?” she asked, and there was a trace of panic in her voice.
I ached for her. Even now, after everything, she still didn’t trust me.
“Are you kidding me?” I reached out and took her hand—the left one—and chafed at the ring with my thumb. “I meant those vows. I wasn’t drunk, or crazy.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You know, I think the thing about crazy people is that they don’t realize they’re crazy.”
She was adorable, but I put on a stern look. “You callin’ me crazy?”
“Maybe.”
I raised a brow. “Is that how you want to start this marriage? Slandering your husband?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t sass me, girl.” I laid on the drawl, playing the stern cowboy. It was working. Bright spots appeared in her cheeks. “You think I’m crazy for marrying you?”
“I think it’s incontrovertible proof.”
My lips twitched. “You might be right. Come here.” I drew back the covers and held out my arms.
I half expected her to get prickly and distant, but she snuggled into me.
“So what’s next?” I asked, inhaling the sweet, clean smell of her hair.
“I-I guess we have to find my parents’ lawyer, right?”
“Guess so. Don’t really know how these things work.”
“Me neither,” she said wryly. Her hand was running up and down my torso, and I tried to ignore it, because if I paid it any attention, I was going to get a boner, and we had important things to discuss. “Do you know their name?”
“No.” She traced my star tattoo. A stupid design I got when I was young, but with her fingernail tickling along the edge, I had no cause to regret it. “I wracked my brain already. It was in my hometown, though.”
“So you’ll know how to find it if we go there?”
She went very still. “I haven’t been there since… since I left.” The quaver in her voice cut me to the quick.
I took a deep breath. “I think I can understand that. But maybe it won’t be a bad thing for you to go back.”
She lay back and stared at the ceiling, her lovely breasts distractingly bare. “I sure miss it. I loved growing up there. Me and my sister used to say it was the prettiest small town in the world. Not that we had anything to compare it to.”
I smiled. “Okay, so let’s go.”
Apprehension flashed in her eyes.
“I know it won’t be easy,” I said, stroking her jaw. “But I’m here to take care of you.”
She sighed sweetly. “I know you are, Joel.”
“So, we drive there today?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind?”
“It would be my pleasure.” At last, I allowed my hand to c
lose around the tender peak of her breast. She let out a little whimper, and when my other hand strayed between her legs, her wetness coated my fingers.
“Already ready for me, huh?” I whispered in her ear.
She gave a ragged groan.
“Are you in need of your husband, little one? What do you want me to do to you?”
“Whatever you want,” was her reply, and her words sent a bolt of heat from my head to my cock.
“Anything?” I turned her onto her front, pushing her legs apart. Last night, I’d longed to take her ass, complete the consummation—as it amused her to call it. But I couldn’t hold back. Being inside her sweet, tight pussy had been too much.
But now, my breath caught at the sight of her little pink pucker. Jesus, she was perfect. I’d glimpsed it when I’d been spanking her, but this was the first time I’d seen her all spread out for me like this.
Vulnerable.
Defenseless.
“I’m going to take you up on that offer, little one. And you’re going to take what I give you. Every bit of it.”
First things first.
I pulled her up and settled her over my lap. She went willingly, her lovely bare legs stretched out over the bed. What a beautiful girl I had in my bed. My wife.
I checked her bottom for marks, but there were none. She took punishment so well. There wasn’t any pink left.
Time to rectify that.
I laid a hand on her bottom. “Let’s start this marriage out right.”
“By spanking me?” Her voice was a little muffled, but I sensed some resentment. I gave her a little smack that sounded worse than it would feel.
“I’m in charge. I seem to remember you disrespecting yourself last night. And I think it’d be good to keep your ass nice and pink today. Just to make sure you learn who’s in charge.”
“Cowboy correction?” she asked with a hint of humor.
“That’s right. Might have to spank you every hour on the hour today. How do you feel about that?”
She wriggled a little under my hand. I cupped her pussy, and it soaked my palm.