Hold her. Stroke her silky skin. Feel her shudder with pleasure while my cock slides in and out of her.
I will do every one of those things later tonight when we’re at home.
Westlyn is wearing an ivory satin and lace gown fitting for a virgin on her wedding night. But my wife is no virgin, and she sure doesn’t expect or want to be treated like one. The pregnancy hormones have made her insatiable the last few weeks.
One look at her in that satin and my cock is hard, throbbing with the need to be inside her. The closer she comes to where I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, the more I ache in my balls. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than today.”
“And I’ve never seen you look sexier.” My bride parts my legs and stands between them. She pushes my kilt up my thighs, her fingertips skimming through the bristly hairs on my legs. “The kilt is a nice change from the suit. Thank you for leaving it on.”
“Anything to make my wife happy.”
I pull up her gown and slowly slide my hand up the inside of her leg, feeling her thigh muscles quiver with tension. My fingers brush against her pussy, parting the soft lips, and I push the tip of my middle finger into her tight opening, using my thumb to massage her clit at the same time.
She bites her bottom lip and moans. “Mmm…”
“You like that, don’t you, doll?”
She lifts one knee and rests it on the bed, giving me full access between her parted legs. “Mmm… hmm. Everything down there is so super sensitive lately. Feels so much more intense.”
My finger smoothly glides in and out of her warm, slick hole. She rocks her hips against my finger, and a choked cry comes from her throat. “More?”
“Yes.”
I insert another finger and fuck her with the pair, my thumb still rubbing her clit in a circular motion. My thrusts become harder, and she grips my thighs for balance. Reminds me of that first night together in the back of the limo when she was on her knees and had to use my legs to balance herself during the car ride.
Her head falls back, her eyes close, and her mouth parts. The pattern of her breathing instantly changes from calm and quiet to fast and labored. “Ohh… Kieran.”
Fuck, I love hearing my name on her lips, but I especially love when it comes out as part of a breathless moan.
Her entire body tenses, and her fingers dig into the flesh on my thighs, painfully so. She cries out my name as her inner walls squeeze my fingers in release, the gripping motion making my dick throb to be inside her.
I revel in watching her come apart in my arms. I love that I’m able to do this to her. And I love that I’m the only man who’s ever brought her to this kind of pleasure.
I grip the satin fabric and pull upward, tossing her gown to the floor. We’re both bare, with the exception of my kilt. But it’s staying on per my wife’s request.
I slide my hands under her bum and pick her up as I rise to my feet, simultaneously flipping and lowering our bodies to the bed so that I’m topping her. But I ignore my aching cock and what he wants. This is our wedding night. I want this to be a night she never forgets; therefore, I am not finished bringing her pleasure.
I move down and begin with small kisses on the insides of her thighs, moving up until I reach my goal: her wet pussy—pink, swollen, and glistening from the orgasm I just gave her. “What are you doing?”
I always make sure she comes first, unless she wants to blow me, but then I move on to pleasing myself. I never give her two orgasms ahead of my own. “I’m going to make you come again.”
“I don’t think I can do it back-to-back like that.”
“How do you know? I’ve never tried.” I spread her folds apart with my fingers. “Relax. Let me do what I do best.”
She spreads her legs farther apart and rocks her hips when I flick my tongue over her clit. Her hand moves to the top of my head, and she laces her fingers into my hair, lightly scratching my scalp with her freshly manicured nails. “You are so good at this.”
I stop and swallow. “I know.”
I push my tongue inside, tongue fucking her as deeply as I can, and tasting her recent orgasm. I savor every drop. I delight in every gasp and moan that comes from her lips as my tongue massages the bundle of sexual nerves in the roof of her pussy—that ultra-sensitive spot that evokes her strongest orgasms.
“Ohh… Kieran. I’m going to come again.”
I knew I could fucking do it, but I didn’t know I could do it that fast.
She trembles, her thighs quivering with ecstasy, and my mouth is flooded with her sweet juice. “Oh, fuck, Kieran…” She bucks her hips from the bed and grinds her pussy against my tongue.
I crawl up her body after she goes limp and releases my hair. I stop briefly to press kisses to her belly and then continue up her body until we’re face-to-face. Heart-to-heart. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I feel her breasts pushing against my chest, her nipples like hard little pebbles.
I press a kiss to her mouth. “Mo chroí.”
She smiles. “Mo chroí.”
Her sweet smile. Her precious words. Both make my cock throb harder, begging for his release. My self-control tank is drained.
Fuck, I have to have her. Now.
I use my knees to push her legs apart and press the head of my cock against her drenched center, slowly sliding into her until I’m balls deep. “Ohh… fuck…”
Her wet flesh welcomes my cock and accommodates it. No matter how many times I take her, I’m always amazed by how tight she is. The way her body squeezes mine makes my spine tingle and my balls draw up against my body.
I slide my left hand into her hair to cradle the back of her skull, and I thrust into her over and over until I’m covered in a thin shroud of sweat. Her legs come up to hug my hips, and the different angle brings me into her even deeper. My wife’s pussy is pure heaven.
I thrust one last time and drive my cock as deep as her body will allow. I lower my body to hers and kiss her mouth hard. “I fucking love you so much, Westlyn Hendry.”
“I love you too.”
I sink on top of her, supporting my weight with my arms on each side of her head. I stay that way, pressing sweet kisses against her lips, until my cock softens and slides out.
Westlyn and I coming together never fails to make me feel like we’re fusing as one. Melding into one another. Losing ourselves in each other. Our bodies fit together perfectly as though each of us is one half of the other, and we can only be whole when together.
She is my other half. My better half. And that is why I will never let her go.
I was her kidnapper. I may have taken her as my captive, but she’s the one who captured my heart.
Epilogue
Kieran Hendry
I’m on one side of the bed and Westlyn is on the opposite. Together we pull up the covers, and our two wee ones tuck the linens beneath their arms.
“Da, will you read with me?” Lachlan, our oldest, asks.
Our son loves books and stories. So thirsty for knowledge. Such a bright lad thanks to Westlyn’s teaching and mothering. At five, he’s already able to read on the level of an eight-year-old.
“No, I want to hear our story again. The one with princes and princesses and how we came to be.” Our daughter, Bristol, never tires of hearing our family’s story.
“What do you say, Lach?” I give him a wink, our secret sign that we’ll pick up with last night’s story after his sister is asleep.
He tries to wink back, but it comes off more like a squint. “Okay. I guess we can hear our story… again.”
“Once upon a time there was a prince from a faraway kingdom who inherited the crown of a new kingdom.”
“And the prince needed a princess.” Barely four and my wee lass is already a romantic.
“Yes, baby. The prince needed a princess, but no ordinary princess. She had to be chosen from the royal family of his new kingdom’s enemy.”
“And the prince’s enemy wouldn’t give him
his princess, so he had to ride in on his horse and kidnap her,” Bristol says.
“That’s right. He had three princesses to choose from and which one did he steal?”
“The bonniest one.”
I look at Westlyn across the bed, her fingers laced and her hands resting on top of her swollen belly. “Aye, she was the bonniest one indeed. And still is.”
“But the princess didn’t like the prince because he was mean to her.” Bristol punches my leg. “Bad Da for being mean to Mummy.” She always scolds me when we get to this part of the story.
“The prince was mean to the princess, but he became sorry and full of regret for being cruel to her.”
Bristol looks up at Westlyn. “Because the prince fell in love with Mummy.”
I pet the top of my daughter’s head when I see her eyes growing heavy. It always helps her fall asleep. “The prince did fall in love with the princess, and their marriage brought peace between the two kingdoms.”
“And their princes and princesses were half of one kingdom and half of the other. Their children would forever bind the two lands, so they would never be enemies again.” Westlyn’s voice is soft and soothing.
Bristol yawns. “And they lived happily ever after.”
I don’t know why Bristol asks to hear this story. She’s the one who ends up telling most of it.
My daughter closes her eyes, and Lachlan places his finger over his lips to shush me.
Westlyn leans down to kiss Lachlan. “I’m going to lie down while Da reads with you tonight.”
She usually stays while he reads.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. Just aching in my back.”
“Sure it’s just a backache?”
She nods. “I’m fine. Stay and read with him.”
Lachlan usually reads to us for thirty minutes every night, but I cut our time short tonight. I’m worried about Westlyn. With her last pregnancy, she complained of a backache, her water broke, and she delivered… all within three hours. We barely made it to Royal Infirmary before she got the urge to push Bristol out.
“Doll?”
“Just a minute, Kier,” she calls out from the bathroom.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice is calm, which eases my worry.
The door opens and Westlyn comes into the bedroom wearing one of her short, sexy gowns. “Pregnancy hormones doing crazy things again?”
She nods and walks toward the bed. “Very crazy.”
She sits on the side of the bed and moves to the middle. “You know what I need, Mr. Hendry.”
I start taking off my clothes, beginning with my tie. “I do know, Mrs. Hendry. Very well.”
Westlyn is approaching her due date. Positioning has been tricky the last few weeks. “Tell me how you want it.”
She rolls on to her side. “From behind.”
“Not a problem, wife.” I love rear entry.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
I lie on the bed and move behind her, kissing the back of her neck and shoulders. I do it to give her time to get wet, but I find that she’s already drenching when I reach between her legs. “Always wet for me.”
“Always.”
I ease inside her, and it’s impossible to suppress my groan. I pull back and thrust slowly, savoring the squeeze of her body around mine. “Fuck, I can’t believe how tight you are.”
How can she have given birth twice, almost three times, and still feel this virgin-tight? A woman’s body can do amazing things.
I thrust a few more times. “Is this position good for you?”
She’s tilting her bum upward, rocking to meet me with every stroke. “Mmm-hmm, but I want you to rub me. Make me come with you.”
I reach around her pregnant belly to that sensitive place between her legs. She moans, and without a word, I know I’ve hit it. “Right there, Kieran.”
I circle the whole area fast and hard. Slow and soft. Back and forth. Side to side. I give her a little of it all.
I move faster. My cock and fingers. “I want to feel your body squeeze me because you’re coming so hard.”
“Ohh… I’m coming, Kieran.”
I bury my face in the back of her hair. “I love you, Westlyn. So fucking much.”
She reaches over her shoulder and grabs the back of my head. “I love you, too.”
I plunge into her one last time and hold that position while my balls squeeze until they’re completely empty. When I finish, our arms, our legs, our entwined bodies collapse and go lax.
I pull out and reach for a pillow to place under her head. “Need one between your knees too?”
“Yes, please.”
I spoon behind Westlyn, wrapping my arm around her waist and rubbing her tummy. This is baby number three, and the movement I feel beneath my hand still amazes me. “He or she is going crazy in there.”
She places a hand on her belly next to mine. “I think this wee one will be coming soon.”
Her due date isn’t until next week. “Why do you say that?”
“I felt really good today.” She always gets a burst of energy the day that she goes into labor.
“Then you should get some sleep, in case he decides to come tonight.”
Westlyn’s prediction comes to pass five hours later when her water breaks, and we rush to the hospital. Same as last time. She’s barely admitted when she tells me that she needs to push.
We finally get to meet our next son or daughter.
Westlyn starts pushing, and the nurse tells her to stop because she needs to get the doctor.
“Hear that, doll? She’s calling the doctor to come.” I lean down and kiss Wes’s forehead. “I love you so much.”
She strokes my face with her hand. “I love you, too. But that doctor needs to come because I won’t be able to stop pushing when I have another contraction.”
“You have to breathe and not push.”
“Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen. This baby is coming. It doesn’t care who’s ready.”
Westlyn’s physician comes into the room. “Oh… it’s coming. I’m trying… but I can’t stop it.”
He hurriedly puts on a pair of gloves. No gown. “It’s all right, Mrs. Hendry. Just means it’s time to meet this wee one.”
I watch the head of our third child emerge from my wife’s body, and the doctor suctions his nose and mouth. Westlyn’s legs are shaking, and she’s breathing erratically when she reaches up to grab me. She pulls me down and squeezes me around the back of my neck. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.”
“You’re almost finished. Push him out.”
Westlyn releases her ironfisted hold on me and works to catch her breath. She pulls her legs back, her eyes squeezed tightly, her brow wrinkled. A pair of tears escapes her eyes, and it breaks my heart to see her suffering in silence.
“Here he or she comes.”
I hear a gush of fluid and then a piercing cry—our baby’s first sound.
“It’s a boy.”
She falls against the bed, exhausted, and I kiss the top of her head. “You did it, Wes. We have another son.
He’s placed on her chest where the nurses wipe him clean, cover his head with a blue beanie, and stuff him inside his mother’s gown. Skin-to-skin.
Westlyn puts him to the breast, and it only takes a few minutes for him to figure out how to latch on. “Look at our boy, Kieran. He’s so much like Lachlan and you.”
“Ethan Graham Hendry.” I lower my face so I can get a better look at my son. “I already love him as much as I do Lachlan and Bristol.”
“Me too.”
I look at our third child and know that I owe all of my happiness to Westlyn. Without her, I wouldn’t know this kind of love and joy.
When I stole this beautiful woman, all I had in my heart was anger and rage and malice. I had cruel intentions. But then everything changed. My affection for her was unexpected. My love, unintended.
The End
Redemption
Leith and Lorna’s Story
I was on my way to having everything that I wanted… until I opened that door. That’s when my entire world shattered. In a single second, my happy life was gone.
She broke my heart. There, I admit it. But a Fellowship man doesn’t mourn the loss of a woman. He moves on to the next one. And the next. But what I quickly discover is that it doesn’t matter how many women I’m with. I’ll never find one who can replace Lorna Frazier.
I’ve been an arse, doing everything within my power to hurt her. And I’ve been successful at it. But it doesn’t heal the pain of losing the woman that I love. She is my everything, and I’m nothing without her.
Apart, we’re weak. Together, we’re strong.
Apart, we’re in hell. Together, we’re in heaven.
Apart, we’re broken. Together, we’re whole.
I won’t give up on us.
Prologue
Leith Duncan
Four Years Earlier
Left side of the room. The middle. Right side of the room. Behind her. Lorna’s head turns from one side to the other, and her eyes scan the members of our brotherhood surrounding her.
She’s looking for something. Someone?
Me?
I watch her. Unable to resist, I study her face and body and analyze her facial expressions and body language. It’s all part of an attempt to gain some insight into what’s going through her mind.
I do it a lot—watch her while she’s unaware. It’s impossible not to when she sashays around my pub wearing the Duncan’s uniform. No one looks like she does in that blouse and kilt.
I want to get closer. Close enough to smell the peach and cherry-blossom body spray on her skin. Her signature fragrance. That shite drives me crazy. Just a single whiff of it makes me hard.
Sin Series Stand-alone Novels Bundle: Endurance, Unintended, and Redemption Page 42