by Iris Morland
“Strip for me. I want to see everything my wife has to offer me.”
“Only if you strip, too.”
He grinned. “As you command.”
He took off his shirt, and I stood rooted to the spot. I’d seen his bare chest before, but once again I couldn’t help but marvel.
He was like a marble statue. But warm, and alive, and when I placed my hand over his sternum, I felt the heavy beat of his heart.
And God, I wanted to see his cock. To feel it in my hands, to watch it grow harder and bigger. I trailed my fingers down his belly until I reached the waistband of his jeans. He was already hard, bulging against his zipper.
He was big. Way bigger than any guy I’d slept with before.
“It’ll fit,” he said in a heated whisper in my ear. “I’ll make sure you’re so wet, so open, that you’ll be begging me to pound my cock into you.” His Irish brogue lengthened with every lewd word. “I’ll fill you so full, baby. You’ll feel me in every inch of your body.”
“I wasn’t worried.” I smiled deviously as I reached inside his briefs. “But I wanted to inspect the goods first. You know, to make sure you hadn’t stuffed a sock in here.”
He grunted out a laugh. “Fucking brat.” The laugh turned to a groan when I squeezed him. “How about you take me all the way out and see for yourself?”
I could already feel how big he was. He’d fit, but he’d stretch me to my limits. Just the thought of him inside me made my pussy flood.
His cock, roped with veins, his foreskin already pulled back to reveal pre-come on the tip, was magnificent. Of course, I’d never tell him as much. His head was big enough already.
I stroked him from root to tip. I could barely encircle him with one hand.
I kneeled in front of him, breathing hard. Looking up at him through my lashes, I admitted, “I’ve never done this before.”
Liam dug his fingers into my hair. “You don’t have to do it now. It can wait.”
“No, I want to. Show me what you like.”
He gently pushed me toward his cock as he said, “Suck me inside your mouth. No teeth, mind you. I don’t want to end up in the hospital.”
I laughed. “You mean blowing a guy isn’t like eating corn on the cob?”
“Christ Jesus, woman. Don’t even joke about such things.”
I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock like he’d done to my nipples. The salty taste of him made heat bloom in the pit of my stomach.
“Squeeze me as you suck me,” he instructed. “Harder. You can’t hurt me. As long as you keep your teeth to yourself.”
He didn’t push me, despite his hand in my hair. I licked and sucked and swirled, moving my hand up and down his length. He somehow grew even harder. The thought that I was driving this man crazy only ratcheted my desire higher.
“Can you take more of me?” he said, pushing my hair away from my face.
I’d never been one to back down from a challenge. “Like deep throat you?”
“We’ll see how you do. You’re still new for that. But do you trust me?”
I nodded. Because I did—I trusted him implicitly.
“Breathe through your nose. If you need me to stop, pinch me. Now, open your mouth.”
He slowly began to feed his cock into my mouth, his hand pushing my head toward his crotch. With every inch, I was certain I couldn’t take anymore, but I wasn’t one to give up so easily.
“Remember to breathe, baby. Through your nose. God, look at you, with your mouth full of my cock. You’re so beautiful.”
When he hit the back of my throat, I gagged. Liam pulled free before I’d even pinched him.
“You okay?”
I scowled up at him. “Why’d you stop?”
“You wanna try again?”
“If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you. Do it again.”
He chuckled, but it turned into a low groan when he pushed inside my mouth again. When he hit the back of my throat, I forced myself to keep breathing through my nose. He held me there for a long moment before gently fucking my mouth and throat.
It was heady, having a man like this use me for his own pleasure. I would’ve thought it would be demeaning, but it was powerful. I felt powerful even as I was on my knees in front of him.
Liam swore, gripping my hair tightly. I felt his semen hot against my tongue. But before he came, he pulled out, his cock glistening with saliva.
“Fuck, that was amazing. You did so well.” He helped me stand. He kissed me, murmuring words of gratitude and praise. “Nothing hotter than seeing you like that, your mouth full of my cock.”
“I liked it,” I admitted, a little surprised at myself.
Since when was I this sex kitten who loved giving blowjobs? Next I’d be begging to do anal or having Liam tie me up in some Fifty Shades of Grey reenactment. I was at the point that if he showed me his red room I’d be totally gung-ho for some spanking.
I remembered all the sexy toys I’d gotten at Jenna’s bachelorette party. Maybe I should get the butt plug and put it to good use for once…
“I love that you’ve only had my cock in your mouth,” said Liam, his mouth sliding down my throat. “Now take off those jeans and panties before I rip them off.”
“You can’t rip denim. Not with your bare hands.”
When Liam batted my hands away from my jeans and was about to, in fact, actually rip my jeans off, I squealed. “Don’t you dare! These jeans cost three hundred dollars!”
“Who spends that much on jeans?” Liam looked at the label. “Are they made with spun gold?”
“They’d be way more than three hundred if that were the case.”
Liam wrapped his arm around my waist. “Get your clothes off, wife. Unless you want me to put you over my knee like the bad girl you are.”
I was rather tempted by his threat, but perhaps we could save the spanking for another day. Shimmying out of my jeans and panties, I found myself feeling self-conscious for the first time.
I was thin—too thin, honestly. My breasts were small; I was ridiculously pale. Thankfully, I’d shaved all the necessary places this morning, as if I’d intuitively known what was going to happen.
“Leanan sídhe,” rumbled Liam as he stroked a hand down my side. “Come to suck my very soul from my body.”
“What a terrible thing to say.”
“It’s true. Now get on the bed and spread your legs for me.”
I flushed scarlet. I flushed even more when I did as he said, watching him take off the rest of his clothes as he stared down at me. His cock bobbed, still glistening from my mouth. Liam stroked it as he stood at the foot of the bed.
“Spread your legs further. Show me that pussy, wet only for me.”
I swallowed and slowly opened my legs. I’d never felt so exposed, so open. My arousal increased until it felt like I had a fever in my blood. I needed him inside me, to fill the empty parts that craved him with every fiber of my being.
Mostly, I just wanted him to fuck me into oblivion.
“There you are,” he crooned. “Look how pretty you are. So pink, so wet. God, I’ve dreamt of that pussy for three days now, my mouth on it, lapping up your juices when you came for me.”
I groaned. “Liam…”
“I know.” He crawled on top of me, his gaze dark and intense. “Tell me you want me. How you need my cock in that tight pussy of yours.”
“I need it,” I whispered at the same time he fitted the head of his cock at my entrance. My toes curled in the sheets. “I need you.”
Liam’s arms bracketed my head as he penetrated me. I could barely breathe. Grasping at his shoulders, I felt full to the brim. Too full, almost. It was pleasure bordering on exquisite pain.
When he was fully seated inside me, his balls resting against my ass, he kissed me. His tongue plunged into my mouth as he began to move.
I saw stars on the backs of my eyelids. I lifted my hips with each of his strokes, desperate for him. As our lips met, s
o our bodies met and combined into one. He increased his rhythm until the bed squeaked and rocked. He pounded into me relentlessly.
Soon, he lifted my legs and hooked them over his arms, opening me completely. I writhed.
“Liam,” I whined. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“A ghrá geal, I’ll never stop.” He said something else that I assumed was Gaelic, but he could’ve been speaking Mandarin for all I cared. I was only sensation; only my stuffed pussy and straining clit. Only sweat and lips and heat and an orgasm pulling tighter and tighter inside me.
“Come for me. Let me feel that pussy come on my cock.”
I opened my eyes, my vision hazy, right at the same moment as my release hit me. I arched and screamed. I vaguely heard Liam swear as he thrust three more times inside me before pulling free. Then warm semen splashed against my belly and my breasts.
Liam collapsed beside me. We were both sweat-slicked, panting. I touched a finger to a bead of his come on my belly. I’d never had a man come on me like he just did. It was surprisingly hot, despite the mess.
As Liam went to get cleaned up, I had the stray thought we should’ve used a condom, but I appreciated that he’d pulled out. Then again, if he was clean it wouldn’t matter. I was on birth control. Had been since I’d started dating David.
He’s not your husband. Don’t expect him to be faithful. Besides, this is temporary, remember?
I knew that, but somehow the idea didn’t register in my dopamine-soaked brain. Especially when Liam returned and began to gently wipe me off.
“You good?” His words were gruff, almost awkward.
I yawned. “Get back into bed so we can spoon.”
“Yes, wife.” He tossed the washcloth onto the bedside table.
Before I fell asleep, I said, “I forgot to tell you: we’re having dinner with my family tonight.”
Sex must’ve turned Liam’s brain to mush, because he didn’t even protest. He just said “Yes, wife,” a second time and pulled me into his arms a few seconds before we both fell asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Liam
Who would have known my prissy little wife was insatiable in bed? After we’d slept for a few hours, I awoke at the same time that she’d turned back toward me, palmed my cock, and had got me hard again like I was some teenager with his first girl.
The fact that Mari’s piece of shite ex hadn’t so much as eaten her out made me want to prove to her that she was better off with me.
Okay, fine—I didn’t want to examine too closely why it mattered. This was just a fling. Hot sex never lasted. It wore off; the luster turned dull. I had no expectations that this was anything more than what I always did with women.
But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want it to last longer than these six months. That after Mari had fallen asleep, her hair strewn across her pillow, I’d imagined what it’d be like for us to be truly man and wife.
That night, Mari turned to me after I’d parked the car to say, “Are you nervous?”
I shot her an ironic glance. “Should I be?”
“If you’re not, I am. My family is…a lot.”
“You met my sister. She’s basically ten people in one.”
Mari laughed. Tonight she’d put her red hair up in some braided thing that made her look like some dairymaid that needed a good tumble on a hill. It didn’t help that she wore a white sweater dress, or that she’d worn red lipstick. It took all of my self-control not to take her in the backseat of my car outside her family’s house.
“Your sister is just one person. This is five people.”
I heard a door swing open, and out came who I assumed was one of Mari’s sisters.
“Then we better go into the lion’s den before they eat us.”
I’d told myself meeting her family was just part of this charade. In their eyes, we were truly married, so why wouldn’t they meet me?
Except as I shook hands with her dad and he gave me a look that pretty much said, I’ll take you out back and shoot you if you fuck around, I found myself wanting to prove him wrong.
“Oh, he’s so tall,” said Kate, the youngest sister. She wasn’t much older than Niamh, although she was taller than my sister. “He’s got a jaw you could cut yourself on, too.”
“Kate,” admonished Mari.
I chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Kate dimpled, but anyone with half a brain cell could tell she had some evil sparkle in her eye. “How drunk were you two when you decided to get married?”
Everyone sighed.
“Kate,” said Mrs. Wright. “Don’t terrorize our guest.”
“It’s an honest question.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud,” said Mari.
Thankfully I was saved from further inquiry when Mrs. Wright basically dragged Kate into the kitchen to help her. Mari took my arm as we went into the living room.
“Sorry about that. Kate likes to rile people,” said Mari quietly.
I shrugged. “You remember my sister, don’t you? Your sister doesn’t scare me.”
“You say that, until she puts frogs in your bed.” Mari’s tone was dark.
Soon I found myself sitting next to the middle sister—Dandelion. Mari had yet to explain why she and Dani were named after flowers but Kate wasn’t. Then again, based on the plants hanging in every corner of the room, along with seedlings placed on window ledges, the Wright family didn’t do normal or logical.
Dani didn’t look anything like Mari. Where Mari was tall and slim, Dani was short and curvy. They didn’t even have similar hair or eye colors. I almost wondered if Mari was adopted. Or maybe Mrs. Wright had had a torrid affair with the milkman.
Next to Dani was her fiancé, Jacob, who kept looking at me with a bland expression.
He’s the one to watch out for, I thought grimly. No matter if he makes fucking bouquets for a living.
Mr. Wright settled in an oversized chair across from the rest of us. He wasn’t intimidating to me: he was shorter than me, with a bit of a belly along with a nice-sized bald patch on his head. But I could tell he didn’t like me.
“How did you and Mari meet? She didn’t explain that part,” said Mr. Wright.
“Dad, I told you. He’s a mutual friend. He’s friends with Sam, Jenna’s husband,” said Mari.
“You told us about the connection. You didn’t tell us how you met.”
Mari shifted next to me. I took her hand and squeezed it. I cursed inwardly when I remembered her lack of ring. And of course her father noticed. His face creased.
“Why no ring?” he said.
“Everything has been such a whirlwind that we haven’t had time,” said Mari.
Which was true, for the most part.
“A real man would’ve picked one out on his own,” said Mr. Wright.
“Dad,” interjected Dani, “that’s silly. You know how picky Mari is. You can’t give her clothes or jewelry that she hasn’t picked out on her own. It’s pointless. Remember when you and Mom bought her all those sweaters in sixth grade and she secretly returned them all later?”
“It’s true. Liam is smart, but he doesn’t exactly know my taste in jewelry,” said Mari.
Except that she’d told me what she wanted last night, hadn’t she? I’d made sure to file that detail away in my brain for later.
“Or he doesn’t have enough money to buy you one,” countered Mr. Wright.
Mari and Dani protested, but I squeezed Mari’s hand to silence her.
“I have plenty of money. I’m happy to show you, if you don’t believe me.”
“You do not have to show my dad your bank statements. This isn’t Jane Austen, where we’re figuring out settlements and dowries. Good lord,” said Mari.
“I want to know if he can support you. That’s what parents are supposed to do. And I have a hard time believing any of this was thought of before you two decided to elope like idiots,” said Mr. Wright,
crossing his arms across his chest.
“I can take care of your daughter. That you don’t have to worry about,” I said.
I respected that her dad wanted to make sure she was all right, but that didn’t mean he could insult me. “Our marriage might have been quick, but that doesn’t make it less legitimate.”
Mari stared up at me with wide eyes. Right then, I didn’t know which were lies and which was the truth. Everything had blurred together, especially after this morning.
“Dinner’s ready,” said Mrs. Wright. “Come and sit down, everyone.”
I wondered if this was what it was like for Anne Boleyn the night before she got her head chopped off: everyone staring at her, wondering what her next move would be. But I wasn’t in the Tower.
I was in the Wright house, where books about gardening lined one wall while the other was lined with crystals, some kind of fancy cards, and a bunch of things that made me pretty sure at least one of the Wright women was a witch. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a talking black cat emerged to tell us stories right then.
“What’s with all of that?” I said to Mari, tilting my head toward the witch bookshelf. “Should I be worried?”
“My mom is super into astrology and crystals. She’ll probably give you a reading later.”
“That sounds terrifying.” I wasn’t religious anymore, but I was tempted to do the sign of the cross anyway.
Mari winked. “Don’t worry. She’s the nicest one of us.”
I wasn’t sure that was saying much, given the stares I was currently receiving. Dani was the only person besides Mari that didn’t look like she either wanted me dismembered or tortured until I broke.
“What do you do for work?” said Mr. Wright from the other end of the table.
“Photography.”
Mr. Wright grunted and sawed at his piece of steak until his fork squeaked against his plate. I’d no idea a man who’d worked as a florist for twenty-plus years would be so against his oldest daughter marrying without telling him.
“Not sure how you can make money off of something like that,” said Mr. Wright. “Starving artist and all that.”