by Lucy Darling
“Want me to stop?”
“No,” I snap out quickly.
“Good. I want to see you come for me.” His eyes lock with mine. Possessiveness and need are what I see when I look into them.
“Gerrit.” I don’t know why I’m saying his name.
“Got you, love.” His free hand comes up to press against my mouth. His eyes never leave mine. “Give it to me,” he orders, and his tone leaves no room for argument. I come for him as though my body has been waiting for his command.
My body jerks against him as I grip him tighter. The pleasure explodes through me as his hand continues to rub me. It’s too much. No, it’s not enough. I need more. My knees start to give out, but he presses his body firmly to mine so I don’t fall as he works all of the orgasm out of me.
I drop my head back as his hand leaves my mouth. I let out a whimper when I feel his very hard cock pressing into me. It’s then I realize it’s the more that my body has been begging for.
“I didn’t think you could be more beautiful. You’re always surprising me, and I don’t like surprises.” I swallow, opening my eyes. “Except yours.” He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking the evidence of my orgasm off them and letting out a deep groan.
He kisses me again, letting me taste what he did to me, the pleasure that he gave me. It’s erotic and makes me want more. But as soon as I have that thought, he releases me.
“Steady,” he says as he makes sure I can stand on my own. “You’re fucking perfect.” He smirks. “Make sure you always respond to my texts.” I’m not sure if that’s really a threat, but before I can say anything he’s gone. It’s then it dawns on me that I’m still in the dressing room. I swear that man makes me forget everything when he’s around. Especially when he’s touching me.
I look down at myself and quickly fix the lingerie, putting it back in place. I’m thankful that I really like how it looks. Gerrit guaranteed my purchase of it once he decided to make me come while wearing it. A second later Kinley pops her head in. “One more,” she says, handing me another dress.
I take it from her, and she’s off again. I collapse in the chair, wondering what the hell just happened. Maybe being married to Gerrit Kane won’t be as bad as I thought. What’s the worst that could happen?
9
Gerrit
I’m so fucked. I can still taste her on my lips, and I know it’s not enough. The need to drop to my knees and taste her sweet pussy almost won out, but I managed to somehow convince myself to only rub her to orgasm. Even though I wanted to do so much more than that. What is she doing to me? I should call this whole thing off. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My self-control is slipping. I can’t even think straight anymore. That woman has me turned inside out.
“It’s a surprise to see you here,” Mom says, coming to stand next to me. I haven't left the store. I should have, but I found that I wanted to spend more time around my future wife. So I stand and wait for Kennedy to come out of the dressing room.
I’d only meant to kiss her. That was my intention at first. Then I’d seen her in that fucking lingerie, and I couldn’t stop myself from touching her. She’s lucky I didn't fuck her against that mirror. I ached to do it. I’m still fucking aching. I don’t see it going away anytime soon either.
The only reason I didn't take her was due to the fact that I didn't have the time. And I didn't want our first time to be rushed. She deserves more than that. If she is going to be my wife, I need her to enjoy our sex life. Because I plan on being balls deep inside her cunt as much as possible.
“Thanks for covering for me.” Mom gives me a smile. When I strolled into the store, I spotted her first. She’d clued me in to where Kennedy was. Once she told me, I asked her to give me a few minutes because I wanted to go give my girl a kiss. My mom had smiled, thinking I was being sweet. When nothing could be further from the truth. I was there for selfish reasons. Because Kennedy hadn’t answered my messages and I’m not used to people ignoring me. I don’t think anyone has ever put my name and the word sweet in the same sentence before.
“Of course! You’re young and in love.” She lets out a sigh. “I remember those days.” I pull my eyes away from the dressing room, wondering what is taking her so long. Also why do I care? I should be leaving. There is shit at work I should be handling.
“It wasn't even a month ago that I caught you and Dad having a makeout session in Houlihan's steak house.” That wasn’t the first time. It isn’t even shocking anymore.
“I can’t help it if your father can’t keep his hands off me.”
I let out a chuckle, shaking my head. I actually like that my parents are so in love. They both are happy, and that’s what matters. I don’t think I’m capable of having what they have. I’m not built that way. It’s part of the reason I chose this to begin with. “It seems you might be a little bit more like your father than you think.”
“How?”
“Obsessed.” Before I can respond, I hear the familiar sound of Kennedy’s laughter. I look over to see her with her sister. Those two are always together. You can tell their bond is strong, and I wonder if Kennedy and I will ever have one. I shake off the thought.
Her eyes land on me before widening for a second. I bet she thought I’d left. A blush starts to spread across her angelic face. One that I now know goes all the way down her chest. She and her sister start to come our way. Before I know what I’m doing I’m moving too. It’s taking her too long to get to me. She already stayed in the dressing room for far too long.
“Kennedy.” I greet her as I slide my hands into my slacks’ pockets so I don’t try to grab her. She gives me a strange look for a moment, but it’s gone before I know it.
“Hi, Gerrit.” She pulls her gaze from me. I don’t like it.
“Did you get everything you needed?” I ask, pulling her gaze to me once again.
“I think so. They said they would deliver it to my house. I guess everything is really falling into place now.” Her eyebrows furrow together, and fear hits me hard in the chest. Is she changing her mind about all this? Is that even a possibility for her? I’m not sure how her father talked her into this or maybe it’s a family tradition. It seems as though it’s a way for her parents to keep some control.
“If anything falls through the cracks, I’m sure the wedding planner will help. I’m doubtful anything will happen with Emily double-checking everything.”
“We have a wedding planner and I’m keeping up on things. Isn't that enough?” Her eyes stay locked with mine. I want to reach up and pull at the collar of my shirt, which suddenly feels tight as frustration starts to gnaw at me. I can’t read her.
“Neither of you need to worry about that. You have Kinley and me here too. This wedding is going to go off without a hitch. I can promise you that.” Mom folds her arms over her chest in challenge.
“It’s fine. Really, I’m sorry.” She rubs her forehead. I break, grabbing her and pulling her into me. She doesn't fight me. Her small, lush form molds right against me like a perfect fit.
“Are you getting a headache?”
She shakes her head. “Think I need food and sleep.” As if on cue, her stomach growls.
“I’m going to give you some early wedding advice, soon-to-be brother-in-law.” Kinley smacks the side of my shoulder. “You think she’s all sweet and cute.” My angel isn’t cute. No, that’s not the word I’d used to describe her. She’s a fucking bombshell. She blew up my whole world in less than a second when I originally laid eyes on her. I’d agree with sweet though. I can still taste her on my lips. “Don’t let her get hungry. If you do you’ll meet Ken. All Ken does is stomp around complaining about everything.” Kennedy rolls her eyes at her sister. Mom starts to laugh. “It’s not funny. I’ve been putting up with it for years. Learn to keep snacks on you. This could save your life, Gerrit.”
My lips twitch.
“Are you done?” Kennedy glares at her sister.
“See. It’s happening
,” she says in a hushed tone that isn't hushed at all.
Mom cuts in. “We were all supposed to go to lunch, but Kinley and I wanted to check on something.” Kinley gives my mom a funny look. “The thing.” She nods her head at her.
“Right. The thing with the things. Yeah, we totally gotta do that. Like right now.”
“What thing?” Kennedy asks.
“You need to eat.” I run my hand up her back. I don’t like that she's hungry. Did she not eat breakfast?
“Great,” Mom says quickly. “Gerrit will take you to lunch.” Mom kisses me and then Kennedy on the cheek before she and Kinley take off together.
“Wonder what they are doing.” She watches them go, her face scrunched in an adorable scowl. “If I wasn't so hungry we’d totally follow them.” I chuckle.
I honestly don't think they are going anywhere. Mom doesn't drop out in the middle of something without a real reason. Her reason today is because she wants us to spend time together. I’m sure she was relieved to see me here so early in the afternoon. She was probably happy knowing that it meant I left work early.
“Then let me feed you.” I alert my driver as we head out the door. Kennedy leans into me. That smell of strawberries fills my lungs. I want to bury my face in her hair.
I know one thing for certain. I’ve been lying to myself that I should walk away. I know deep down I’d never do it. I’m not even sure if I’m going to make it until the wedding. The urge to claim her and mark her as mine is almost too much to bear.
I don’t trust myself right now, and that is scaring the shit out of me. I know one thing for sure: I’m not letting her go. Ever.
10
Kennedy
I think my sister ditched me with Gerrit’s mom. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I peek up from the menu that I’ve been pretending to read for the last five minutes. I quickly drop my eyes back down when I see Gerrit is still staring at me unapologetically. I can feel the heat that rises in my cheeks at being caught looking at him. I keep trying to concentrate on the menu, but I can’t stop thinking about what he did to me earlier.
How am I more shy right now than I was in the dressing room when he had his fingers between my legs? I clench my thighs together again. I should be happy that the server returns to our table, but the way she keeps giving Gerrit those googly eyes makes me anything but.
She looks as if she’s going to continue to flirt with Gerrit. For the first time since we were seated, I put my menu down, annoyed at her behavior. This marriage might be arranged, but he’s still going to be my husband by the end of the week.
“Are you going to be having your usual, Gerrit?” she asks in a chipper voice. Her eyes never leave him. She doesn’t even bother to look my way. My shyness has disappeared, and annoyance has taken its place.
I dislike how she uses his name as if they are old friends. As though she knows things about him when I barely know anything at all. He doesn’t have any reaction to her, so I’m going to guess that they were never lovers.
I don’t think Gerrit would be outright rude to her, but it’s not unheard of. Maybe he sleeps around a lot and he doesn’t remember her. I mean, that’s happened to my father on more than one occasion. He would forget that he’d slept with the woman and treat her as if she was nothing more than a stranger.
My mood sours at the thought of that being the case with Gerrit and this server. Gerrit touches my elbow, making me take my eyes off the woman. I swear his lip inches up for a second as if he can read my mind.
“Do you know what you want, love?” he asks me. I should. I’ve stared intently at the menu since we sat down. That was until Ms. Flirty Pants showed up. He stares at me, waiting for an answer. “Want me to order for you?”
“Thank you,” I agree. He rambles off our order to the server, ordering more food than we could ever eat.
“You know I have a wedding dress to fit into in a few days,” I try to tease as Ms. Flirty Pants writes down our order. Her eyes finally swing over to me. I continue to look at my soon-to-be husband, not giving her the time of day. Hopefully she got my message loud and clear. Stay away from my man. Even though he’s not really mine, but whatever. She doesn’t need to know the details. My eyes remain on Gerrit until I feel her leave the table.
“You said you were hungry.” He picks up his water and takes a drink. He’s still staring at me.
“You know, you stare at me a lot.” I don’t know why I point it out. I’m not sure if I want him to stop or not. It’s flattering that he can’t pull his eyes away from me, but it also makes me fidget and feel like my every move is being watched.
“You’re going to be my wife. I think I have the right to stare at you.”
“Why are you doing this, Gerrit? You could easily find a woman to marry that you’re in love with. I wouldn't take your parents as the kind that would agree with arranged marriages,” I ask.
My parents wouldn't openly call this an arranged marriage, but that’s what it is at the end of the day. It’s more common than people know in these circles. It just isn't openly talked about. Families wanting to marry into other families for some business reason.
“I need a wife” is all he says, giving me nothing. Someone walks by, dropping a bread basket off at our table. It smells entirely too good. I wasn't joking about the wedding dress. I make myself stop, staring at the delicious-smelling bread and knowing that I only have so much willpower. I watch as Gerrit snags a piece for himself, buttering it before placing it on my bread plate.
“No, thank you.”
“Do you hate bread?”
“No. Who hates bread?” I laugh. There should be a law against such things. I’d never trust anyone who hated bread.
“Then you’ll eat it. You’re starving. Did you eat breakfast?” I shake my head no. “Why?” He narrows his eyes on me. That shouldn't turn me on, but it does.
“The wedding dress.”
“I’ll call the fucking dress designer and have her make it bigger. Now eat the damn bread.” I stare at him, not sure if I should be mad or not. “Please.” I pick it up and take a bite, letting out a small moan. The bread is still warm, and the butter is melted just right. “Maybe you shouldn't eat the bread.”
“Are you always this bossy?” I ask after swallowing my bite of food.
“Yes.” He butters himself a roll next. The table grows silent, like it was in the car ride over. I have no idea how to act around Gerrit, which is crazy. I’ve never been more intimate with anyone in my life. He knows me in a way no one else does. Yet I can’t seem to have a continued conversation with him without my nerves getting the best of me.
“In the dressing room. I don’t normally do stuff like that,” I blurt out.
“That makes two of us.” I find that hard to believe. He walked right in and took what he wanted. At least that’s what I thought, but really what had he gotten out of it? It was me that got the orgasm.
“Really?”
“I don’t make a habit of showing up in women's dressing rooms. Not to mention if we got caught. The gossip would be endless.” That is true. “Not that I give a fuck, but I’m guessing you would.”
“I guess,” I supply. My first thought would have been about my mother. She would murder me. God forbid I end up in one of those gossip rags. She’d have a cow. I’d never hear the end of it from her.
“You guess?” He leans back in his chair with a smirk playing at his lips. My eyes drop there, wanting those lips back on me. What is happening here? Could I actually be falling for him?
“If we were married—”
“We will be married.”
“It would be less scandalous to get caught with your husband is all. It would actually be kind of sweet. Two married people who can’t keep their hands off each other. My parents can barely stand to be in the same room for a few hours at a time.”
“I don't think we’ll have that problem.”
“You don’t know that,” I respond as they begin setting some
of our food on the table. I try not to roll my eyes as the server does everything in her power to get Gerrit’s attention. To his benefit, he doesn't seem to notice.
“We’ll have a good simple marriage. I work a lot. We’ll mainly only see each other in the late evening. I get home around eight.”
“And the weekends?”
“I typically work those too.” Now I’m really not understanding what he needs from a wife. He’s never home. He doesn’t seem as though he plans to change those ways, so I don’t understand what the big rush to get married is. Why not continue to be a bachelor if he wants to live that lifestyle? His answer only confuses me more. Gerrit is hard to get a feel for.
“Okay then.” I let out a small laugh.
“Why is this funny?”
“It’s odd to me that you want to get married is all. It sounds like you’re already married to your job.”
“My job is off limits and will always come first. Sometimes you’ll go to events with me and be in our bed each night.” Right. Of course that’s why he needs a wife. He doesn’t want to have to worry about having someone to warm his bed at night. It would probably take too much of his precious time to actually go out and meet someone. His reply gives me a slap right back to reality.
I hear him loud and clear about how our future together will be. What I don’t understand is why he doesn’t just get a hooker? Or is that what he considers me, but with a nicer title attached to it? I try not to let my emotions get the best of me and focus on the food, even though I no longer have an appetite.
The hunger I was feeling has now vanished. I still try to eat, not wanting to draw attention to myself. We eat in silence, with each second feeling painfully longer than the next. All I can think about is getting out of here. I need air. I’m suffocating on the thoughts of a loveless marriage and a future that looks very similar to the life my mother lives.