Bride of the Frontier (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 3)

Home > Contemporary > Bride of the Frontier (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 3) > Page 11
Bride of the Frontier (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 3) Page 11

by Hayley Faiman


  My eyes widen at his confession and I tilt my head to the side. “How is that?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. I answer my letters, I comment on laws and policies. I even create laws and policies and yet, I feel as if I mean nothing. I am a puppet. I was brought in by an Assembly.

  “This country used to be governed by several types of groups, groups that attempted to work together. Groups that became so corrupt, that they neglected the people which eventually caused a civil war. As a result, the Assembly decided that we would have more of a totalitarian society and they appointed someone, for life, to govern and rule.”

  “They chose you? Wow,” I breathe.

  I am seriously impressed. In awe, actually. Granted, I don’t know much about this place, but to be chosen for any kind of major position like that is something to not only be proud of, but to be in awe of as well.

  “And you think you’re a fraud?” I ask.

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I know that I am. I also know that I’m their puppet, or at least they think that I am.”

  “They do?”

  He hums. “They send me requests and suggestions. I haven’t rocked the boat too much, but I have my own ideas and ways of doing things. When it matters to me and my people, I will do what’s right and what needs to be done, even if it is unpopular.”

  “Our countries are very similar, Colt.”

  Colt doesn’t ask me to go into detail, but I can tell that he wants me to just by the way he’s looking at me. He’s too proud, or whatever, to ask. Instead of making him ask me, I decide to just tell him.

  I tell him about the United States, about our government. I’m no political science or history pro, but I tell him what I know. He is interested, extremely interested, judging by the way he stops staring at my breasts through the see-through top and instead focuses on my eyes with intense interest.

  “Fascinating,” he exhales when I’m finished telling him my limited knowledge on the way my country’s government works.

  “There is so much more to it, I really only have a basic understanding.”

  He nods his head. “Because you’re a woman?” he asks.

  He’s being serious and I want to yell at him for being a chauvinistic pig, but I don’t. This isn’t my country, not even my dimension. This is a totally different world—literally. Instead of getting mad, I laugh.

  “No, because I didn’t really pay much attention in high school government classes and I only took a few courses in photography in college, zero economic or political science ones.”

  “You’ve been to college?”

  Nodding my head, I can’t help but smile. “I have, Colt. A lot of women are college-educated where I’m from. We’re doctors and lawyers, we’re politicians, and we even run our own huge companies. The world has evolved where I am.”

  “Does it upset you to be here?”

  His question is sincere. I love that. Reaching across the small table, I place my hand on his. “I don’t know yet,” I answer truthfully.

  “You’ll hate it, Birdie.”

  “Why is that?”

  He smiles sadly. “Because I will never be able to give you what a man there could.”

  “You can’t? You’re the leader of this country.”

  “Yes, but I cannot give you what I’ve already given to another.”

  My heart cracks inside of my chest at his words. He’s speaking of his heart. He will never love me because he will always love his deceased wife. He will never marry me, give me his name, or anything else, because all of those things belong to her.

  “I understand,” I lie.

  I want it to be the truth, I try to inwardly convince myself that it is, in fact, the truth. I want to understand, but the simple fact is that I don’t. I hope that I never do, either. I don’t want to know what it’s like to lose a man that I love or a child.

  I never want to go through that and I hate that this man, a man that I’m supposedly created for and he is created for me, has loved and lost the way that he has. I selfishly want to be his first true love. I selfishly want to be the only woman he’s ever felt this strongly for, because he’s the only man I have ever felt this way about.

  Chapter Fifteen

  BIRDIE

  Once my food is consumed and our heavy conversation is finished, I stand and turn my back to him. Inhaling a deep breath, I’d almost forgotten how much I like to eat and breathe. Making my way toward the bed, I climb on the center, my knees sinking into the mattress, and I turn around to face him.

  On my knees, I stay upright as I reach for the hem of my blouse, gathering it in my fingers, I gently pull it up and over my head, tossing it to the side, leaving myself completely naked, aside from the thigh-high stockings that he seems to be so fond of.

  “Birdie,” he grits, still in his seat.

  “Come here, Colt,” I breathe.

  He slowly stands to his feet and as he makes his way toward me, I watch as he strips out of his clothes. He strips everything off by the time he stands at the side of the bed in front of me. His cock is hard, it’s almost beckoning me.

  “Birdie,” he rasps, tilting his head to look down at me.

  Wordlessly, I lean forward, gripping the side of the bed so that my lips are directly across from his hard length. He gasps, but doesn’t say anything. Opening my mouth, I extend my tongue and taste the tip of him.

  “You mustn’t,” he breathes.

  I hum, opening my mouth and in response, I take him inside of me. Looking up at him through my lashes, I suck. He almost immediately buries his hand in the back of my hair. His grip is strong as he guides me along his length.

  I love it.

  He may be guiding me, but right now I’m in charge.

  His jaw is clenched as he looks down at me, his eyes looking into mine and nowhere else. I move, taking him in, my saliva coating his hard length and I can’t deny that everything about this moment is turning me on second by second.

  My blood starts doing that thing again, I can feel it begin to heat inside of my body, then it begins to boil and only then do I jerk away from him, releasing him from my mouth and loosening my grip on his cock.

  “Colt,” I whimper.

  He hums, his hand still buried in my hair. “I know, darlin’. I know.”

  Deciding that I can’t take it another minute, I need him inside of me and a position change is going to take far too long, I spin around on my knees. His hand falls from my hair and I hear his intake of breath before he lets out a hiss as I bend over in front of him.

  Turning my head, I look back over my shoulder, biting the corner of my lip. “Please, Colt.”

  He shakes his head once, then grunts as he looks down at me. “I know.”

  Thankfully, he doesn’t torture me a moment longer, maybe he feels the same way, I don’t know and right now I don’t even care. All I can think about is having him inside of me. I need it. I know that it’s the only way to make this burning sensation go away.

  Something else I’m sure the gods have done to torture me. Not only have they made me for this man who can never love me, but they also make it impossible to abstain. One look at him or from him, has my blood simmering, one touch or kiss has me boiling with need.

  He doesn’t ease inside of me, not at all, he must feel the same way that I do. He aligns himself and with one quick thrust, he buries himself deep inside of me. I lift my head, letting out a moan at the delicious sensation of him filling and stretching me.

  Colt places one of his palms at the small of my back and slowly glides it up my spine, sending chills throughout my entire body, then grasps the strands of my hair and tugs my head back with a snap of my neck.

  He leans over, looking into my eyes and I look into his, forced to look nowhere else and yet, I don’t want to look anywhere else either. I can’t speak, my neck arched too much to let anything but sounds and moans escape my lips.

  His other hand wraps around my hip and his fingers dig into my flesh a
s he begins to move inside of me. He isn’t gentle. I don’t mind. In fact, I love it. He slams into me with each thrust of his hips, over and over, my body climbing higher and higher with each pump.

  “You’re mine, Birdie. Created for my body, made for me.”

  I want to agree, but I can’t. He was not created for my body, as much as I want him to be, he was meant for someone else.

  His body was for her.

  I am second to her and I always will be.

  He is second to no man I have ever had in my body, not in bed and not in looks. The rest will remain to be seen, but I have a feeling not even in personality could any other man compare to Colton James.

  COLT

  I can feel her body tighten around me, begging me to stay inside of her as I continue to pump in and out of her wet heat. She is perfection. Pulling her head back even more, I worry that I will pull her hair out of her head, but I can’t control myself when it comes to her.

  My hips move without my control or consent. I slam into her harder than I’ve ever been inside of any other. She doesn’t protest. In fact, her body welcomes me, gushing with even more wetness, it drips between her legs, coating my balls as her thighs begin to shake.

  Reaching my hand around her hip, I find that perfect little nub that I know will send her over the edge when I begin to play her. I am close, my back tingles and my balls draw up in a signal that I am not long from finding my climax.

  Swirling my fingers around her nub, I feel it grow against my touch, begging for me to continue my ministrations. Her hips rear back as much as they can. Her body becomes lost to the sensations that my fingers give her.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh as her body begins to tense. Her wetness floods and her center clenches down around me hard. It forces my orgasm to practically rip through my entire body. My eyes open and my lips part as I look down at her in awe.

  “Birdie,” I breathe.

  She whimpers and I force myself to release my hold on her hair, afraid that I’ll hurt her. My body falls forward, my weight pinning her down against her back. She doesn’t try to push me away and I’m surprised, my weight is heavy against her slight frame.

  “Stay,” she whispers.

  Touching my lips to the side of her head, brushing her temple, I hum. “For a bit,” I agree.

  My guilt begins to crawl up my throat, it threatens to choke me, to end my life, but as I slowly remove myself from her body, rolling over to her side, I wait for the blackness to consume my vision, but it doesn’t.

  Birdie’s cool touch slides down my temple, down my cheek and across my jaw before her fingers trace my lips. Shifting my gaze over to meet hers, I watch as she smiles.

  “You put me in your mouth,” I point out.

  Her cheeks tint pink and she nods. “I did.”

  She’s lying on her stomach, her cheek against the mattress, her eyes on me. Her hand leaves my face and I expect her to move it from my body, but she doesn’t. Instead, she wraps her fingers around the side of my neck, her gaze never leaving my own.

  Human touch. I haven’t had much of it since Adelaide passed. The soiled doves would touch me more if I allowed it—I don’t. I’ve never had a mistress, I’ve never stayed in a woman’s bed for any amount of time, it always felt like a betrayal and this should too.

  Except… it doesn’t.

  “Do women not do that here?” she asks, her voice tired and soft.

  I’m not ready to touch her the way that she is me, yet, so I only continue to look at her. “They don’t,” I murmur. “It’s just not done. Most of the soiled doves won’t even do it, not even for coin. I’ve only paid for the act a handful of times,” I confess.

  “Did you like it?” she asks.

  A snort escapes and she laughs softly. “Very much so, darlin’. You know that I did. This is something people do where you’re from?”

  Her lips continue to stay in a small smile. “If they want to, yes.”

  “You enjoyed it,” I point out.

  “Very much,” she breathes.

  “You’ll do it again.”

  My words are not a question, rather they’re a statement. She takes it as such and dips her chin in a nod before she scoots her body a bit closer to me.

  She shifts and I feel her front against my side. Her soft breasts pressed against my own chest. It’s sensual in its own way, and I very much enjoy feeling her body against my own.

  “Thank you, Colt.”

  “For?” I ask in confusion.

  She smiles, pushing up slightly before her lips touch mine. “For feeding me, for making me come, for staying.”

  I should get up right now. I should walk out of this room and go to my bed. I don’t. Instead, I wrap my arms around her back and roll us over. Birdie spreads her stockinged thighs and allows my hips to fall between them.

  Touching my lips to hers, I slide my tongue along hers and she parts her lips allowing me to taste her. She swallows my moan as she lifts her hips and I slip my cock through her wet folds.

  “Again,” she breathes.

  “Yes,” I grind out.

  And again, we relish in the feel of one another’s bodies. I don’t know how I’m able to take her again, to rise to the occasion, but I do. We aren’t hurried, we take our time, enjoying one another’s bodies, exploring each other as new lovers do.

  I wonder if this is a mistake. Becoming comfortable with her, opening myself as much as I can with her. If she is taken from me, I will not have myself guarded as I wish to be. The world may see her as only a mistress, as that is all they can see her as, but right now she truly is something special.

  Birdie Collins is not just a woman sent to me in an ancient prophecy, she is so much more than that, no matter how much I fight it. She is more than I want to admit. Saying it, even thinking it is a betrayal to Adelaide’s memory, but I know without a doubt that being with Birdie feels bigger than being with Adelaide ever did and I hate myself for that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  COLT

  I have never actually slept next to a woman aside from Adelaide. Last night, I told myself I would only be beside her until she fell asleep. I don’t know how it happened, but I fell asleep as well and now the sun has risen and I’m wrapped around her slim body.

  I should roll away, sneak off and head back to my room, but she pulls me under her spell just a little more. Birdie rolls over in my arms with a sigh, and I watch as her eyelids flutter open.

  Those blue eyes stare at me for a moment. There is nothing working behind them, just the pureness of the morning and just waking from a deep slumber.

  “Mornin’ darlin’,” I rasp.

  “You stayed,” she breathes.

  It should not affect me. Her words, the way she says them, none of it should, but it does—all of it. Even the way she is looking at me, it affects me. Deep inside. I’m not quite sure what it means, but it is something and I’m not ready to dissect it, yet.

  “I did,” I agree. “Martha will bring us breakfast. We’ll eat, then we have something to do today.”

  “We do?”

  Smiling, I shift close to her and touch my lips to the tip of her nose. “We do,” I murmur. “We’re going to town.”

  There is a moment of silence, and I can tell that she’s thinking. I can see her brain working behind her eyes, but she doesn’t let me in on what her thoughts entail. I could ask her, demand to know what is going on in her pretty head, but I don’t.

  Maybe one day I will know her well enough to have it all figured out, but for now, I find that I quite enjoy the mystery that is Birdie. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she lets out a sigh.

  “I’m a bit nervous. What if I stand out? What if people know that I’m different? I feel okay here because I like Martha and Florence, but out there, nobody will know that I’m not like them, that I’m different.”

  I almost laugh in her face, but I don’t. Instead, I only smile. She will no doubt be stared and gawked at, watched and scrutin
ized, but not just because she is different. All of this will happen because she will be on the arm of the leader of the entire country.

  Deciding not to mention that to her, instead, I lean forward and touch my mouth to hers. She trembles in my embrace, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and digging her nails into my flesh, just the way I like.

  Rolling her onto her back, I shift my hips, feeling her warmth against my hard length. Birdie lifts her legs, wrapping them around my lower back, her heels digging into my backside, begging me for more.

  She will never have to beg.

  Not Birdie.

  Not ever.

  I continue to roll my hips against her damp folds, coating my cock with her wetness, until I feel as though she is ready to take me easily. When she is, I align myself with her center and slowly sink inside of her tight heat.

  “Amazing,” I breathe.

  I can’t help myself. She is just that… amazing. Clenching my teeth together, I look into her abnormally blue eyes and move inside of her. It’s too early for this to be rough play or maybe it’s just the fact that I woke up beside her, that it feels like more than just a romp.

  It should be just that, a romp, but it isn’t. I have never thought of it as simply that with her. She is no soiled dove, just being inside of her feels like I’m in heaven with the gods—supreme bliss.

  I know now that it isn’t real.

  The gods have put this feeling inside of me, they have planted the seed of my imagination, of my desire.

  Slanting my head to the side, I touch my mouth to hers as I continue to take her. She whimpers against my lips and I swallow the sound before I slide my tongue inside of her, needing to taste her as my blood begins to boil just beneath my skin.

  I feel her cunt wrap around me snugly, fluttering and threatening to keep me inside of her. Not that I would complain. She feels just that amazing. I don’t stay buried inside of her though, instead, I continue to move.

  Grinding my pelvis against the nub that I know sends pleasure throughout her body, I continue to thrust my tongue in and out of her mouth, in tandem with my cock. She rips her mouth from mine, her cries fill the room as her cunt clamps down hard around my length.

 

‹ Prev