Walker Pierce

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Walker Pierce Page 16

by Christa Wick


  “I still can’t believe you wanted the burlap left in,” she joked.

  Ashley’s head bobbed. “It was in the picture you showed me and it is a fitting adornment. I’ll always have this reminder of Walker rescuing me from that room.”

  She bobbed her head again, a small blush coloring her cheeks. “When we got back to his place that night, it was the first time he told me he loved me.”

  “He felt it long before that,” Lindy gushed. “You two are so lucky to have found one another.”

  Throat convulsing with emotion, Ashley mimicked the head tilt Lindy had used to keep her makeup from sliding down her face.

  “Okay, okay,” Siobhan laughed. “We better get this show started while the waterworks can still be contained.”

  Lindy voiced her agreement as Ashley pulled her veil down.

  Sneaking her hand under the veil, Lindy offered Ashley’s cheek a soft caress.

  “Time to officially make you my daughter.”

  * * *

  Seeing his mother signal the organist and take her seat, Walker tapped Sutton’s shoulder.

  “Time to get in place,” he smiled.

  “Right,” Sutton said, patting around his pockets to tease his brother.

  “You already showed it to me,” Walker chuckled. “And I’ve been dying for the last thirty minutes, so don’t be cruel.”

  With a flourish, Sutton produced the ring box and opened it.

  Walker’s chest heaved. For two months, Ashley had worn the diamond solitaire as his fiancée. Today, he would slide the wedding band in place, binding them together forever.

  As the organist played the first note of Mendelssohn's Wedding March, Walker’s gaze snapped left.

  Madigan and Emerson stepped into view, their appearance noted by a hard click at the back of Sutton’s throat audible to Walker over the soft strains of music. Sage and Adler followed, their faces still glowing with the marital bliss of newlyweds.

  Fingers tapping against his side, he watched Siobhan and Jake make their way down the aisle. Then Leah stepped into view, her unexpected poise easing some of the tension in Walker’s shoulders.

  Seeing Ashley on her father’s arm, the rest of Walker’s worries melted away. She was really doing it—marrying him, staying in Montana and taking a local job that didn’t involve chasing bad guys.

  Reaching the altar, Gregory Callahan quickly lifted the veil and kissed Ashley’s cheek before joining his wife in the first pew.

  Lips pursed, Walker released the breath he’d been holding ever since Leah tossed her first handful of petals. Stepping next to Ashley, he pressed his palm against the small of her back, his thumb caressing her spine through the layers of lace and silk.

  God, Walker prayed as the pastor began his speech, let me be a deserving husband.

  Feeling the sweet tremor running through Ashley, he knew he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe and happy. He wouldn’t let a day go by in which she didn’t feel loved and cherished.

  He would always honor her.

  “Son,” the pastor prompted, “Don’t keep the bride on pins and needles. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Walker nodded, his throat laced up tight.

  “I do,” he rasped. “All of those things and more. I love you, baby.”

  Lifting the veil, Walker kissed Ashley and made her his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Not my first rodeo, Ashley thought as Walker finished lighting the fire in their honeymoon cabin. The internal pep talk did nothing to bolster her confidence. True, she’d gone all the way with a small number of men. Some of those men had hoped for seconds. One even carved out a year of Ashley’s time and affection before everything between them fell apart.

  It wouldn’t be Walker’s first time, either. They had been frank with one another about their experience levels. But this would be their first time together. More than that, it would be the first time Walker saw her body completely naked. The hard reality of that left Ashley shaking in her rhinestone boots.

  Walker closed the fire screen and stood. The first place his gaze landed as he looked at Ashley was her face. His smile faltered. She felt the sting of her first failure as a wife.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, her hair down and bouncing around her shoulders. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life to date—and it was. After the late start, everything had been perfect. But day turned to night as it inevitably must. Night meant disrobing. It meant placing her unclothed body against the perfect masculine specimen that was Walker Turk.

  He approached Ashley as he might a spooked filly, one hand out, his entire posture subconsciously urging her not to bolt.

  “Come sit with me on the couch,” he coaxed, further extending his hand.

  Ashley nodded. She wasn’t going to run away. Another foot of snow had fallen during the wedding reception. They had barely made it to the resort two counties over before the state police closed the roads.

  Walker cracked a grin. “You remember that first day, how you were looking down the ravine and trying to calculate if the Jeep would make it?”

  She nodded again, the grin spreading from his face to hers. “You asked me what kind of crazy I was.”

  He took one step toward her, she matched it and extended her hand. His fingers wrapped around her palm and then he slowly drew her into his arms.

  Walker whispered in Ashley’s ear, his lips caressing the rim. “For a second, you had that same calculating look on your face, love. And I’m pretty sure you glanced at the door as I invited you to sit with me.”

  Without admitting he was right, Ashley buried her face against her husband’s chest, the fabric of his tuxedo muffling her confession. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Impossible,” Walker soothed. “Baby, you have no idea how much you turn me on. Everything about you is sexy. Even the stubborn, independent bits.”

  As he talked, Walker steered her to the couch. Her heavy bridal cloak hung by the door, but Ashley still wore the cashmere stole and her wedding dress. He undid the delicate clasp on the stole, folding the material and placing it on a side table before he removed her boots.

  His fingers played over her bare, powder white shoulders, the flickering light of the fire reflected in his languid gaze. He stroked along and under her chin, his touch slow and mesmerizing.

  Everything about Walker at that moment made Ashley feel adored. There was no judgment in his expression, just quiet anticipation mixed with infinite patience.

  And love, so much love.

  Drawing a deep breath, she presented her back to him, her chin pressing against her shoulder as she met his gaze in silent communication. Taking his time with Ashley’s submission, Walker caressed her neck, the calloused pads of his fingers easing up and down her spine so that she grew more and more relaxed.

  When her eyes drifted shut, he teased them open with a tug on the ribbon threading through the gown’s corseted back panel. With Walker’s warm lips dusting her shoulders, Ashley measured her breaths in the time it took the end of the ribbon to move from one eyelet to the next.

  He reached the middle of the corset. The stiff fabric caging Ashley’s breasts surrendered its hold. The boning rods kept the satin from falling away and exposing her flesh. Sucking on the curve of Ashley’s neck, Walker smoothed one hand around to her chest and eased it under the material to cup a breast that had grown tender and swollen.

  His fingers teased the thick nipple, plucking and pinching while his other hand continued to pull the corset’s ribbons.

  “I could have vibrated across the dance floor when I took your garter off at the reception,” he murmured before his tongue curled along the edge of her earlobe, a fresh shiver branching like lightning across her torso.

  With one long slide, the last of the ribbon came free. Walker gathered up the skirt of her dress and smoothed a hand along Ashley’s thigh. She squirmed, tried to turn toward him, but
he gently blocked the maneuver.

  “Open for me,” he ordered with a hot whisper against her neck.

  She placed one foot on the floor, the knee pointed almost ninety degrees away from her body.

  “Hold your skirt.”

  Her hands shook, but she managed to grip the fabric he had gathered up and secure it against her lower stomach. Walker slid the hand teasing Ashley’s breast down to the gap between her legs while his other hand captured the opposite breast.

  He leaned back, dragging Ashley with him, her weight distributed between the cushion beneath her bottom and Walker’s broad chest. He palmed her pussy, his grip on her plump mound unrelenting as he began a sweet torture of the long neglected nipple.

  She wiggled her hips as moisture seeped from between her slick folds to wet the thin lace panties.

  “Months,” he rasped. “Every night I went to bed, I thought about sucking these thick cherries.”

  He gave the nipple a pinch. Ashley’s squeak of surprise quickly slid into a groan.

  “Every night I thought about licking a line up and down your clit, of penetrating you with my tongue and scooping out your sweet cream.”

  Walker’s joke about vibrating off the dance floor suddenly seemed plausible. She had to draw a deep breath and hold it to keep from vibrating off the couch, every muscle in her body tensing as he squeezed harder at her mound.

  “Baby,” he teased, “your panties sure are wet.”

  Passion gurgled in Ashley’s throat.

  “Take them off for me.”

  Complicating his order, Walker cupped both breasts and pinned Ashley to him as she lifted her hips and pushed at the soaking fabric covering her sex. Her fingers turned clumsy with need. Her legs refused to cooperate as she tried to slide one foot out. She kicked at the material, the wild dance of feet flinging the panties halfway toward the cabin’s front door.

  Walker folded the gown’s bodice to fully expose her breasts. Then he ordered Ashley to gather and hold the skirt once more, leaving the most intimate areas of her body on display while all but his hands and part of his arms remained hidden behind her.

  With a satisfied groan, he fastened his lips against her throat. His fingers surfed down to the fur of Ashley’s sex. Micro-beads of moisture clung to the fine hairs. He stroked the tips, rolled his thumb against his middle finger, smearing the liquid before he wedged the rough pad against the top of her clit’s spine.

  She exhaled with a whimper, her hips beginning to move while his hand remained rigid.

  “You going to do all the work for me, love?” he teased. “Beautiful and obliging.”

  A protest rattled in Ashley’s lungs. Her bottom pushed upward to convert the wiggle into a grind. She bit her bottom lip, all her concentration focused on that small point of contact between his hand and her pussy.

  Walker pulled back, his hold on her breast keeping Ashley from twisting around to face him.

  “Lift,” he rasped.

  She pushed her hips higher, felt his free hand slip under her bottom, heard the metallic slide of his zipper, and then, eyes rolling back in her head, Ashley felt the head of his cock press against the gate of her pussy. She cried out, wanting to impale herself all at once. Walker coaxed her into a slow descent, her inner lips sighing around the fat crown as the tight ring of muscles sucked him into her inch by hard inch.

  Using both hands, Walker grabbed Ashley’s thighs, pinning her down at the same time he held her open. The forced gap tugged at her labia, exposing the rigid clit to the cool air. His thumbs feathered upward to stroke its length while he used his strength to keep his cock buried inside Ashley, her attempts to lift and bounce thwarted.

  Her eyes filled with frustrated tears.

  “Just hold me, love,” he coaxed, thumbs methodically dragging up and down the swollen spine. “You’re so hot and wet inside. So tight. I want you to come wiggling around my cock.”

  Her head rolled against his shoulder, neck twisting to bite at his chin. Releasing the fabric, she tried to control his hands. Walker growled and stopped the teasing strokes. She clutched at the dress again, her soft whimpers begging him to continue.

  He kneaded her plump, fleshy mound, squeezing without mercy until the sensation bordered on pain. When he relaxed his grip, the blood returned with a hot rush, her arousal climbing high and forcing her eyes shut. Her muscles rolled up and down, hugging and sucking the thick shaft, its head a fat pommel inside her, battering the opening of her cervix.

  “There, baby, just like that,” he groaned, his thumbs returning to bully her clit into a twitching submission.

  A stroke up. A slow drag down. A pinch. A rolling twist.

  Cream flowed from Ashley, pushing and drooling its way past the tight seal of Walker’s shaft possessing her. He slicked the liquid up, painting her clit with fresh lubrication. Her torso jerked with each stroke he took against the hooded pearl. Her mouth gaped, a long, yearning cry climbing from her throat toward the ceiling.

  Fingers dented her heavy flesh, her hips spasming, her thighs trembling. Her clit jerked rhythmically as Walker abandoned it to cinch her around his cock. She whipped her head back, the action mindless, her cry down to a desperate mewling as she strained upward then collapsed against him in a shuddering heap.

  His hands lightly roaming her sensitive flesh, Walker ghosted a kiss against Ashley’s cheek. When she could finally breathe again, he chuckled.

  “Are you ready for me to see you naked now?”

  Echoing his laugh, she began to pull at the dress.

  “Hell, yes, I am.”

  * * *

  Walker helped Ashley from the gown, her muscles still weak from the straining climax and its long buildup. He draped the material over the couch then scooped her into his arms before she had a chance to turn shy again.

  If everything went according to plan, he was going to love her so thoroughly on their wedding night that she would never question her appeal again.

  Reaching the bed, he placed her in the center then stepped out of arm’s reach. He had taken a second while Ashley’s dress still circled her full hips to tuck his cock back into his pants and zip up. Now it was time for him to show his wife what her vows had paid for.

  Slowly, his gaze on Ashley’s face as she watched him, he removed the cufflinks then unthreaded the line of small buttons running down the center of his tuxedo shirt. His chest muscles pushed forward as he peeled the fabric from skin grown damp while pleasuring his wife. Far less careful with his own clothes, he dropped the shirt onto the floor as he kicked out of his shoes. He shucked his pants and briefs together, his socks removed a second later.

  Not once did he look away from Ashley. He watched her lips soften and part, caught the deepening blush on her cheeks, mirrored the flare of her nostrils as his cock came into view.

  By the time he crawled onto the bed, Walker was breathing like one of the prize bulls his brother raised. His hot puffs steamed the air in front of him as he parted Ashley’s thighs and lowered his mouth to her quivering flesh.

  A sexy whimper twisted inside her throat. Her fingers stopped clutching at the bedding to rake through his hair, her nails lightly scratching at his scalp as he burrowed between the thick outer lips and laved his tongue from the mouth of her pussy up the pulsating line of her clit. Returning to the hooded pearl, he began to suck.

  He wanted her all at once, wanted his mouth on her, his cock in her. Groaning, he pushed three fingers into her tight hole. Her body responded with a fresh rush of thick cream to make his curling fingers even slicker as he penetrated more deeply, his knuckles massaging her grasping muscles.

  “Need,” Ashley mewled, repeating the one word and nothing else with a begging tone.

  “Need…”

  Walker knew exactly what his wife needed. She needed him thick inside her, driving as deep as he could go, planting the head of his shaft against the opening of her cervix, releasing his seed into her as his tongue gently fucked in and out of her sweet m
outh. She needed him sucking one of her dark red nipples while his fingers entered her again, plugging his semen inside Ashley as her body worked to draw his essence into her womb.

  “Yes…yes…” Her words came out broken, her entire body shaking and trembling around her core as the thick triangle of his fingers prepared her to take his cock once more.

  He laved the clit, sucked its tip, throttled then sucked some more, fingers driving and twisting until Ashley screamed out and filled his mouth with her release.

  Walker surged up the bed, spearing into her just as he had fantasized so many nights before. With a hard grip, he held her thighs apart and fed his long, hard cock into a pussy that quivered and jumped, Ashley’s orgasm still pulsating through her, dissolving muscles like hot water over sugar.

  He draped his torso over her, his arms sliding between her back and the mattress to perfect the fit, bones melding with bones, their bodies one writhing synchronized mass of pleasure.

  As they reached their climax together, Walker stared into the smoky gray gaze and knew his wife would never doubt his desire—or her curves—again.

  First Look: Barrett Cole

  “Continue straight for six-point-three miles. In six-point-three miles, prepare to turn—”

  “Sweet, merciful father!” Quinn Whitaker slapped at the volume control on the navigation unit. For the last two miles, the GPS had cut in and out, the unit refreshing its instructions each time it came online again.

  It had refreshed seven times in less than three minutes, the constant repetition shredding her nerves.

  More than making her borderline crazy, the malfunctioning GPS worried Quinn. If the cause was with the rented pickup truck or the dense stand of trees the road twisted through, then her life wasn’t over. She had always been good at remembering routes. A great spatial memory was part and parcel of being an artist, even a failed artist. But, if the problem was a persistent issue with the area’s signal reception, then she might as well join some religious order where they promised to feed and house her in exchange for labor.

 

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