“Is that—”
“Yes," I say. "I swear to you, Monica, you can have whatever kind of wedding you want. But I don't want to wait. Marry me. We have the rings. We have the papers.” I look into her eyes when I ask. "Marry me. Be with me." The last words are like a whispered prayer.
She doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity, but then she nods. "Okay.” And she kisses me again, this time soft and slow. She climbs back into her own seat, and I fish the rings out of my other pocket. Taking her hand, I slip the engagement ring on her finger followed by the wedding ring. Just like in the store, I feel a telling sense of something bigger. The rings fit perfectly this time.
Her small hand slips the ring on my finger, and neither of us speaks as we sign the marriage license. Monica takes a shuddering breath. "It's official."
“It is.” I haul her toward me back over the center console to take her mouth. Now that she's mine—really mine— I don't want to wait. "And we need to get back to the hotel."
She laughs against my lips. “Why?”
“Because I want to fuck my wife,” I say, voice rough. "And I want the first time I do it to be in a bed."
Monica shivers, but there's a small smile on her face. “Drive fast," she says.
10
Monica
I never knew that I could hate traffic this fucking much. All I want is to be back in the hotel with Daniel letting him peel me out of my clothes so he can finally do what I’ve been dreaming about. I sneak a peek down at my finger again.
Married. I just got married. That’s insane, and yet it’s not.
I knew the second that Daniel punched Martin in the face that that was it. I wasn’t exaggerating to him that no one has ever stood up for me. Everything was always my fault. With him. With my parents. With the people I was trying to get jobs with. It didn’t matter what it was. It was my fault. End of story.
I remember time and time again when a teacher blamed me for something, my parents never listened to my side of the story. If there was a bad story in the news about me, that was my fault. If something went wrong for Martin, it was somehow my fault. I never really understood why no one thought to check or ask if it wasn’t.
Until Daniel.
I felt sick, seeing Martin. I thought that this was over, that Daniel would listen to him and suddenly it felt like all the hope in the world had disappeared. Until he threw that punch. I don’t think he’ll ever know how much it meant to me, as fucked up as it is to love someone for punching someone else. I freeze internally, and look down at my ring again.
Is it possible that I love my husband?
It might be. I don’t want to admit that because it feels too fast and too big and the circumstances of getting here too awful and strange.
But I might.
Finally, we pull into the garage and Daniel practically springs out of the car. He tosses the keys to Jack, and pulls me close against his body as we walk. We’re moving fast, but not fast enough to avoid the swarm of reporters just inside the casino. Daniel isn’t deterred in the slightest. He pulls me through them with Devon on our heels, and I don’t even bother to hide my face. They got plenty of pictures earlier, and everyone is already going to know.
It doesn’t bother me as much anymore, because I know that Daniel isn’t going to blame me for whatever they say. It will be awful things, for sure. But we can worry about it later.
Devon stands in front of the elevator doors as they close on us, blocking the photographers from joining us. They disappear into silence, and neither of us can wait anymore. Daniel has me up against the elevator wall in a second, kissing me like he might die if he doesn’t. I might die if he doesn’t. I moan into his mouth, and my tongue dances with his. I spent all last night breathless and panting, dreaming of him. I want everything that he can possibly give me.
“You remember the rules?” he asks.
“You’re really going to make me beg you to fuck me, Daniel? We just got married.”
He pulls my shirt to the side and bites my shoulder, gently, but hard enough to send tingles downward. I’m already wet, and I want him to bite me again. Bite me everywhere.
“I want to hear my wife beg me to fill her pussy with my cock. I want to hear her begging to suck it. To taste me. So desperate to come that she’ll do anything for it.”
“Fuck,” I barely can speak before he’s devouring me again, and when the door opens into our suite, we collapse inside. Clothes are flying, and I can’t get to his room or my panties off fast enough. Suddenly we’re at the door and I’m naked and he’s naked and holy God he’s beautiful. This is the first time I’ve seen him without clothes, and I was right about one thing—he’s not the Daniel I remember from high school. Every inch of him is hard and sculpted, and for one breathless moment, we stare at each other, before he has me in his arms, carrying me to the bed. He’s so big, and I love that he’s everywhere, pinning me down with his weight, stroking and kissing and teasing me until I’m thoroughly surrounded underneath him.
Daniel places one hand on my chest, and moves to straddle my torso. My hands fall on his thighs, marveling at how even this part of him is toned and muscular. And his cock…that’s right in front of me. So close. Rigid and extending toward my mouth like a beacon. I want him to take me again, fucking my throat and then my pussy. The way he’s looking at me—utterly filled with lust and possessive fire—makes me squirm, pressing my thighs together to relieve the ache between them.
“Ask,” he says, his voice so raw it sends need racing through me. My nipples are harder than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I wonder what it would be like to feel his cock in between my breasts. At some point I’m going to ask, but right now I want to taste my husband’s cock.
My husband.
“Please,” I say, arching underneath him. “Please let me suck your cock.”
Daniel guides the tip of it into my mouth, thrusting hard. He fills me instantly, stretching my lips and slipping to the back of my throat. I groan, looking up at him. His perfect body towers over me, and his eyes devour me. “Christ, Princess,” he says. “Your mouth feels good.”
He thrusts into me, and I close my eyes, relaxing into the feeling of delicious helplessness and the taste of his cock in my mouth. Rich and deep and wholly him. I suck hard, using my tongue as best I can, and he groans. “Later,” he says, “I’m going to fill that sweet mouth with cum and watch you swallow it, wife. But my first orgasm married to you is going to be deep inside your pussy.”
I used to think it was impossible to be so turned on from words alone. I was very wrong. Daniel pulls his cock out of my mouth and lowers himself, poised to thrust into me. “I’m clean,” he says. “Haven’t been with anybody in months, and I’ve been tested.”
“It’s been years for me,” I say, “and I don’t want anything between us. Not now.”
He fits the head of his cock against my entrance, and hesitates, then he looks at me. I realize what he’s waiting for. He’s not going to fuck me unless I beg him too. “Daniel, please, fuck me,” I say. I have no qualms about it. I want this. Want it so badly that I could scream. And it doesn’t feel bad with him. Asking for what I want, knowing that even if the answer is no, it won’t be met with derision or disgust.
Daniel doesn’t need to hear me ask it twice. He thrusts in, slowly sinking into my pussy until he can’t anymore. We both groan with satisfaction, and my pussy stretches deliciously, accommodating the exquisite invasion. He’s so big that he fills every part of me with electrifying heat and friction. “God, Daniel,” I moan.
He leans over me so that our faces are close. “I know,” he says. “I know.” And then he kisses me, sealing us together in a way that feels permanent and overwhelming.
Gripping my legs, he raises them around his waist so that he can plunge deeper still, and I can’t breathe. Pleasure swirls from my pussy outward, making me gasp and shake. I’m so turned on that I’m already close. Waiting to go over the edge and fall into that
bliss. I can’t fucking wait.
Daniel thrusts his hips, setting up a rhythm that takes my breath away. Every stroke brushes against my clit and I’m spiraling higher and higher, and I can’t even breathe because he’s still kissing me. “I can’t hold it,” he says. “Come with me.”
He thrusts harder, pounding into me and sending explosions of pleasure through my core. He groans, and his cock jerks inside me. He comes, spilling himself and pure liquid heat into me. It’s enough to make me lose it, and I cry out against his lips as I come, shuddering underneath him.
The orgasm is deep, pulling pleasure from places inside me I was unaware of, seeping through me and drowning me with it. I’m lost in the pleasure sea, carried by the tide. I don’t want to come back up.
Our breath mingles as we come back to each other, still tangled, still connected. My hands are grasping Daniel’s shoulders and I can see my wedding rings. We’re married. This is forever.
And for the first time, I know that I want it to be. I don’t care about how we got here, or the fact that I felt like I didn’t have a choice. I did. And I made the right one. My head is spinning because I love Daniel Argent, and it feels like it was always meant to be.
Daniel’s eyes tell me the same thing, and we don’t need to speak. We just kiss, eyes open, wrapped around each other. Finally, Daniel whispers. “Hello, wife.”
“Hi, husband.” The word makes me laugh, happiness bubbling up in my chest like a giggle. But then he consumes my mouth again, and there’s no more laughing.
Already all the way inside me, Daniel hardens again. Feeling him stiffen, filling me up and stretching me as he grows is so intimate, so delicious that it makes me wet all over again. This time we move together, hips thrusting to meet each other. Slowly at first, barely a movement. Gently experimenting with what feels good. Daniel moves his hips to hit different angles inside of me until he finds one that makes me gasp. It lights me up like a fucking candle, and suddenly pleasure spikes sharply through me.
He slips his hand under my spine, grasping my ass and tilting it higher, slipping in a fraction more. Until I can feel his balls pressed up against my ass and there is no more of him to take. I’m stuffed full of him, so much that my breath is short. He stops and holds himself there, letting me ease into it. Letting me accept it.
It’s more than just his cock that I’m accepting—it’s him. His full place in my life and in my body. I’m taking all of him with no exception, and he’s showing me that.
He kisses my neck, biting it gently and soothing the bite with his tongue. Again and again until I’m moaning, squirming on his cock, wanting more and begging wordlessly with my body. But he doesn’t move. He’s telling me no. To wait until he says yes, and I try.
But I want more. I want to scream and fuck and be taken. But I make myself still, looking up at him as he looks down at me. He smiles, soft and full of warmth. “Good girl, Princess.”
And then he fucks me.
Before he hadn’t. He was holding back, because this is more. He pulls all the way out and slams all the way back into my pussy. Long, brutal strokes that hit me deep and make me cry out in ecstasy. They make me blind with it, and there’s nothing I can do but take it.
Daniel grabs my wrists and pins me to the bed, adding to that feeling, and I love it. I love not having to think and just being allowed to feel, free from the fear that someone is going to take this away from me.
Pleasure rises up in a wave, and I gasp, ready to let go, but Daniel shakes his head. “Don’t come.”
“Please?”
“No, Princess. You’re going to take it. You’re going to wait until I say you can, because I’m asking you to.”
I bite my lip and hold on, fighting back the overwhelming wave of pleasure that’s pulling me under. It’s slicing into me like a knife, every thrust making it sharper and me more desperate to reach that mindless bliss on the other side. The longer I hold on, the deeper that well of pleasure becomes, until I am begging him. Nearly screaming. I won’t be able to hold it off anymore, and he knows.
“Now,” he whispers in my ear, and I explode. Pleasure bright as a nova blasts through me, sizzling through every nerve and crevice. My pussy locks down on his cock, and I can feel him coming with me, heat inside me spurring my own climax on. It’s so good that I feel like I might die.
It takes long minutes for me to recover, hauling in breath after breath of air, mind completely blank. It’s Daniel’s soft press of lips to mine that brings me back all the way. He’s still on top of me, still inside me, and I love the comforting weight of him. Like one of those weighted blankets they sell for people with anxiety.
Daniel laughs. “What?”
“What?”
“You just called me a weighted blanket. What does that mean?”
I hadn’t realized that I had spoken out loud. “You know those really heavy blankets that people sleep under and it makes them feel nice? This is like that.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says.
“Good.”
His weight lifts, and I make a sound in protest which he smothers with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
I can still barely keep my eyes open, so I rest, hearing the soft sound of water, and then the feeling of the mattress dip and his heat near my skin. A soft cloth gently cleans me, and I’m so tired that I can’t even find it in me to be embarrassed that he’s doing it. But my eyes won’t open.
He stretches out beside me and pulls me to him, covering us both with an actual blanket. His arms wrapped around me are warm, and it’s pulling me down quickly into sleep. “I’m sorry,” I say.
Daniel’s voice sounds amused. “For what?”
“For being so tired.”
He chuckles, and I can hear it under my ear. “I’m not,” he says. “I fucked my wife well. I’d almost be insulted if you weren’t tired.”
“Okay,” I say, snuggling closer to his chest. This is nice. Martin never wanted to hold me, nobody ever did. But not anymore. Now, this is what I want. To lie in the arms of my husband, and simply sleep.
I feel Daniel’s lips kiss my temple before I drift off. I think he says something…but I can’t be sure.
11
Daniel
I wait until Monica is entirely asleep before I even try to move. Even after I know that she's asleep, I don't really want to go. I want to keep holding her, and feel her soft body against mine. But I also know that if I don't deal with the repercussions of the media, it will be bad for both of us. It hasn't been three hours yet, but my publicist, Rose, is probably having a shit fit.
Very gently, I lift my arm out from underneath her, and replace it with the pillow. I make sure that she is cradled with pillows and blankets before I leave the bed. Monica's breath is deep and even, and I am extremely satisfied that I can make her pass out so thoroughly. I hope that I can fuck her to sleep like that every night of our lives.
After she had already drifted off to asleep, I told her that I loved her. I know that I’m a coward for not saying it to her face, but I wanted to hear how it sounded out loud first. I like saying it. I like the way it feels.
Pulling on some sweatpants, I noticed my wedding ring. I don’t normally wear rings, and this is going to take some getting used to. But I’ll gladly do it.
I retrieve my suit jacket from the floor in the living room, and get my cell phone out of the pocket. I also get our signed marriage license out of it so that I can give it to my lawyer. As predicted, my phone has half a dozen calls and just as many texts from Rose. I pour myself a drink before I dial her number, and sit on the couch. I could easily go for a nap just like Monica, but this needs to be dealt with. The media never sleeps.
Rose speaks as soon as the line connects. “What in the ever-loving fuck did you do, Daniel?”
“I thought I paid you enough money not to swear at me.”
“I will swear at you as much as I damn well please when you do something like this to me.”
I cringe. “How bad is it?”
“Let me summarize it for you, shall I? He was spotted this morning going into a diamond store with the daughter of one of America's most infamous white-collar criminals. Not even an hour later you were seen getting into a fight with this woman's ex-boyfriend, son of one of America's most powerful industry tycoons. And when you reached the hotel, the pictures show you with the same woman, but now you're both wearing wedding rings. How bad would you say that is?"
"The fight is bad," I say. "I don't see a problem with the rest of it. So I got married? Who cares."
"A lot of people fucking care, Daniel. You are one of the country's youngest, best looking entrepreneurs. Oh, and you happen to be a billionaire. You don't think people are going to freak out a little bit about you marrying the daughter of someone who swindled thousands of people out of their livelihoods and savings?"
"She had nothing to do with it. I don't see how that matters."
Rose sighs, and I can practically see her rubbing the bridge of her nose. "If you had perhaps called me first? We could've gotten out of this. We could have implemented the plan that would've turned public opinion. Had something like a big wedding, repackaged her into America's sweetheart. The wronged bride finally has her happy ending."
I take a sip of my drink and look out over the city. "We’re going to have a wedding. It's going to be beautiful, and I'm sure the pictures will recover some of that damage. But we are not going to repackage her as anything. Monica is who she is, and she spent her entire life being packaged to suit other people's palettes. I'm not going to do that to her."
Rose doesn't speak for a moment, and when she does her voice is soft. "Is this for real, Daniel? Like, is this the real thing? If it is, you know that I'll do whatever I can to help you. But if this is some drunken mistake that's going to end up in a divorce that will rival Charles and Diana, tell me now."
The Marriage Dare Page 11