by Lane Hart
A man that’s now my husband.
Our marriage didn’t seem real at the courthouse.
Or when I hugged my parents and told them goodbye.
But now it suddenly hits me that I’ve given myself to this stranger in every way. He paid for me and now I’m his.
Within a few minutes of great sex, he had me sobbing and begging, owning my body like it belonged to him and was no longer my own.
Miles finally removes his thick flesh from inside of me.
Why do I feel so empty now? He wasn’t ever there before, and I was just fucking fine.
Most of his upper body weight is still on top of me when he lifts my skirt high enough that there’s a breeze on my backside. Then his thick finger drags wickedly right down the crease of my ass down to my pussy which gives another needy spasm, causing more of my arousal to come gushing out of me.
“Goddamn,” Miles grunts in that deep, husky smoker’s voice while his finger keeps trailing up and down, up and down the most private part of me lewdly. “I wish you could see this cream pie we made. Mmm-mmm, that was fucking incredible. Can’t wait to do it again. Maybe here…” I gasp when his fingertip presses against my puckered hole, touching me where no one else has ever touched me before. He pushes the tip of his finger inside, invading me and says, “It’ll take a while, and hurt like hell at first as I squeeze in inch by inch, but eventually I’ll make it all fit, just like I did in your tight little cunt. And you’ll fucking love it. I bet you’ll beg for more again…”
No, no, no.
This is all too much too soon from a man I don’t know! And from the way he had me so strung out our first time, if I give in and sleep with him again, there’s no telling what he could convince me to do, even things I’ve never wanted a man to do.
I was only supposed to marry him, not surrender my body to him to use however he wants. We were supposed to just have sex, the normal, quick kind that doesn’t leave me feeling like a brainless ragdoll who is completely at his mercy. I may have given up my life for him, but I’m keeping my body and my dignity!
“I-I can’t breathe,” I say as I push myself up on shaking arms to try and escape.
Chapter Ten
Miles
One second, I’m sweaty and spent, recovering from the best fuck of my life with the most gorgeous woman who also happens to be my wife. The next, she’s scrambling out from underneath me, hiding her breasts with her arm across her body while trying to pull her dress up.
“Don’t…don’t touch me again,” she says.
Confused doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.
“We’re married,” I remind her. “I’m damn well going to touch my wife.”
“I agreed to marry you and consummate the marriage. That’s it!” she replies, turning her back to me.
“What’s your problem?” I ask. “You loved every second and begged me to make you come!”
“I was faking it,” she responds softly.
“Bullshit!” I exclaim.
“You…you made me beg by withholding.”
“Then you came harder than you ever had before, didn’t you?” I point out. “I need clean sheets because your pussy gushed all over them and my face.”
I hear her gasp indignantly before she asks, “Where’s the shower? I-I need a shower,” and storms out of the room in search of the bathroom.
What the hell is her problem? The sex was too good? Is she expecting an apology for that?
“I’ll go get your shit while you’re acting insane!” I tell her retreating back.
Women.
How the fuck do men deal with the same one for long periods of time?
And holy shit.
It just occurred to me that while we were fucking, I made her promise not to leave me.
Kira probably thinks I’m the biggest pussy on the planet. Lord knows I feel like an insecure asshole.
Maybe she won’t remember that part.
Hell, who am I kidding? I think I’ll remember the details of our first time together until the day I die.
Based on how Kira responded to me, I’m guessing she will too.
Every. Single. Second.
Including me being a pussy.
Once I re-dress, I go down to her car and bring up all of her boxes, dropping them off in the living room. It takes me less than ten minutes. So, I grab a beer from the fridge and pace while sipping it, waiting for my wife to get out of the shower.
Ten more minutes pass, and then fifteen.
After an hour, I go over to turn the still locked bathroom door and then knock on it. “You alive in there?”
“Yes,” is her one-word tearful response, making me feel like shit when I don’t even know what I did wrong.
“I’m heading out. You want to come, or are you planning to hide in there all night?”
There’s no response after a full minute, so I give up and leave, taking her car keys with me to Avalon.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Coop asks when he climbs up on the stool beside mine at the bar when I’m on my third beer.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I reply, tipping my bottle to him before I take a long swig.
I came to look at tits and ass, and there’s plenty here right behind me.
But I’m not even looking at them, because doing so makes me feel like I was cheating thanks to the new weight on my ring finger.
How fucking stupid is that? My white gold wedding band looked like a plain piece of jewelry when Cooper first showed it to me before the ceremony. Now I’m pretty sure it’s entirely responsible for tightening the invisible choke collar around my cock.
“You’re drinking alone in a titty bar when you should be getting to know your new wife.”
“I don’t think she wants to know me,” I tell him, the disappointment obvious in my sullen tone.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she locked herself in the bathroom for over an hour. She was still in there when I left.”
“Maybe she was sick or something was wrong. Did you check on her? Make sure she didn’t bust her head and was lying on the floor bleeding out?” he asks.
“Oh, she was alive all right. I could hear her crying.”
“Jesus! What the hell did you do to her?” he snaps at me.
“Nothing,” I reply. “We fucked, and then she ran and hid.”
“That…that’s a bad sign,” Coop says. “Did you hurt her…during?”
“I made her shake harder than an earthquake, but I didn’t hurt her.”
“She enjoyed herself? You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes! I’m absolutely fucking sure,” I tell him. I can be a knucklehead, but I’m not that stupid. I’ve been with enough women to know when the sex is good for them too. Most of the time I honestly don’t give a shit if they enjoy it since I’m just looking to get off. But with Kira, I wanted to make her feel good so she would want more.
And then, I blurted out that I wanted her to promise she wouldn’t leave me like a nutless eunuch.
“When it was over, she said she couldn’t breathe and then she freaked out,” I explain to Cooper.
“You should go talk to her,” he says. “Ask what’s wrong. That’s what husbands do.”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for all this,” I say since I don’t want to face her after the shit I said in the heat of the moment.
“Dude, it’s only been a few hours! Why did you go through with the wedding if you weren’t a hundred percent sure?”
“I dunno,” I say before taking a swig from my beer. “It was stupid.”
“Well, now it’s done, so you need to figure this shit out, at least as long as Kira wants to stick around. It won’t be long unless you find a way to not be a dick and make her happy.”
“How the hell do I do that?” I ask him.
“No clue, but not leaving her by herself in a new house in a new city is probably a good start. She seems a little shy, and you
are…brash. Give her some time to adjust to moving in and shit with you. Don’t rush her or abandon her.”
“So I should go home and stay there even if she hides in the bathroom all night?”
“She can’t hide in there forever. Eventually she’ll come out for something to eat or drink and you can feed her.”
“I have to feed her?” I ask in confusion. “I thought wives were supposed to cook for their husbands. My mom always did.”
“Welcome to the new age where wives are treated as equals. Most of them even have jobs outside the home, so the husband has to split the household chores equally.”
“Oh,” I mutter because I wasn’t aware of all that. My whole life my mother just hopped from one rich dude to an even richer dude. Money was all she looked for in a husband, and in exchange she cooked for them and treated them like kings so they would keep her around. Now I guess that was because she really didn’t want to have to find a job and take care of herself.
“You really should’ve talked to someone who is married before you went and did it,” Cooper chuckles.
“I did. I heard Abe and Chase talking about how their old ladies wanted to fuck them all the time.”
“They’re trying to get pregnant! Most marriages are not sex all day, every day.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” I say. “And I didn’t expect Kira to be a sex slave, but I don’t think she even likes me.”
“She doesn’t know you yet. Give her a chance to get to know you as well as I do. Then she can be certain she doesn’t like you,” he jokes.
“You’re an asshole,” I say even though he’s right. She’s not going to like me.
“Can’t argue with that,” Coop says with a grin.
“But the sex was fucking incredible. She’ll definitely want it again, right?”
“No fucking idea, man. That’s between you and her. But you can be a little…”
“What?” I ask.
“Intense. Take it down a few notches and talk to her.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I agree as I tip my beer back to finish it off so I can go face the music.
Kira
When the water goes cold in the bathtub again, I drain it and turn the faucet back on. The overhead light glints off of the ring on my finger, reminding me of the serious commitment I just made a few hours ago. It feels like I gave up a part of my soul in exchange for marrying him. A part that I won’t ever get back.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in here; but judging by the wrinkles on my fingertips, it’s been a while.
And I don’t even know why I’m still hiding after Miles said he was leaving. I heard the door close and his bike start up outside, so I’m almost certain he’s gone.
Despite however long I’ve been in the tub, his scent still clings to me like it’s been permanently soaked up by the pores in my skin. I hate that he smells so good, spicy and masculine with hints of leather that I could become addicted to.
Eventually I even cave and grab his body wash to pour it into the running water so that the bubbles smell strongly of him. My husband.
I don’t regret my decision to marry him to save my father’s life and my parents’ livelihood. I would do it all over again and maybe even more enthusiastically knowing what Miles looks like now and how good he is in bed.
So why am I sitting in his bathtub crying and looking like a prune?
I think it’s all just a little overwhelming because I wasn’t expecting to enjoy being with him. Who makes a deal with the devil and likes it? There has to be some sort of horrible catch that I haven’t uncovered yet.
Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ve ever really enjoyed sex with any man. It was usually over before things started getting good for me.
Having a man so in control of my body was scary. Miles knew how to make me feel good, better than I know myself. Although, for a while there, it felt like he was torturing me. And while there was a little pain, there was a lot more pleasure. Sex with him felt good but wrong at the same time, as I lost all of my inhibitions. Miles made me feel drunk or high on some kind of drug I’ve never had before.
I’ve always been a good girl who doesn’t want to let her parents down. I didn’t try alcohol until the day I turned twenty-one. I’ve never smoked or used marijuana, much less any harder, illegal substances. And I didn’t have sex until I was a senior in high school and eighteen, legally an adult making my own choices.
Despite the fact that I’m twenty-three, I’m not sure if I’ve ever really felt like an adult until today when I finally moved out of my parents’ house, got married, and had really good sex with my new husband. Miles has obviously been with plenty of women. Now I’m incredibly embarrassed, because I have no clue what I’m doing in bed while he’s on an expert level.
I don’t know how to be on my own. And I definitely don’t know how to be a wife. Sure, I’ve seen my mother and father together all these years, but Miles is nothing like my father, who is gentle and caring. Instead, Miles is tough, rugged and intimidating. He fucked me and never once kissed my lips. What kind of man does that? He didn’t take my clothes off or his own. When I scrambled off the bed and finally got a good look at him, he was still wearing his t-shirt but not his leather cut, and he had simply shoved his jeans down to get inside of me without undressing.
I guess over the last few days I had been expecting a mild-mannered, dorky guy with tons of money instead of the rough-neck bad boy biker husband I got.
Which makes me wonder – how does he have so much money?
And why did he buy a wife?
Chapter Eleven
Miles
Since I have no idea what Kira likes to eat, I decided to call in a pizza. Everyone likes pizza, right?
If she doesn’t, I’ll go find her something else.
For now, I better get home before the pizza delivery guy shows up so I can pay him.
Hopefully Kira’s out of the bathroom by now and we can…talk.
What the hell are we supposed to talk about?
I have to admit that even if she doesn’t say a word to me, I wouldn’t mind just being in the same room with her, looking at her beautiful face and body. My cock twitches at just the reminder of being inside of her, fucking her while she was wearing her white, dainty wedding dress.
She may not have been a virgin, but I know for a fact she’s never had anyone fuck her like I did. That much was obvious after she scurried off the bed and told me not to touch her again. And I won’t, not unless she asks me to.
God, I hope she asks.
When I get to the house and unlock the door, I find her curled up on the sofa in a pair of pale green pajama pants and a matching tank top, sound asleep even after the noise I made coming in.
Or she’s just pretending to be asleep so that I’ll leave her alone.
Fine. Whatever.
Since I had planned on both of us sleeping in the bed, I don’t have any extra blankets or anything else.
Peeling off the black comforter from the bed and grabbing one of the pillows, I take them into the living room to cover her up, even though doing so should be a sin because she’s sexy as hell in pajamas. Then, I lift her head and carefully wedge the pillow between her and the sofa arm.
I go outside and smoke a joint while I wait for the pizza guy to make sure he doesn’t knock and wake her up if she’s really out.
By the time he arrives, I could eat the entire thing, but I don’t, leaving three slices for Kira in case she wakes up hungry. There’s not much in the house to eat, which means we’ll have to take a trip to the grocery store tomorrow to stock up. It’s not much of an outing, but at least it’s something that will hopefully get the woman talking to me.
Chapter Twelve
Kira
“Hey, mom,” I say into the phone when she answers.
“Kira, how are you?” she asks, her voice concerned.
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
“Did you…sleep well?” she asks.
&n
bsp; “Yeah, I did,” I reply, even though it’s a lie. Then, there’s a heavy silence between us because she would never ask if Miles and I slept together or were intimate, and I would never tell her that we were and that it was amazing, but then I crashed hard on the sofa.
When I woke up this morning with the sun shining through the windows, I was surprised that I slept all through the night and that Miles covered me up at some point with his bedding. I snuck past his room on the way to the shower and found him sleeping with just the thin, black sheet over part of his body, his thick chest and tattoos on full display.
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I ask my mother, “Did the money hit your account yesterday in time for Daddy to give it to Zeno?” I should’ve checked in with her yesterday, but there was a lot going on with the sex and sleeping like the dead. It must have been the catastrophic orgasm that put me out. I was planning to sleep in the bed with Miles; but since he covered me with the bedding, he must not have minded me sleeping alone.
“Yes,” my mother thankfully answers. “We gave him the full amount owed.”
“Good. That’s good,” I tell her, glad that mess is taken care of.
“Is he treating you well?” my mother blurts out.
“Yeah, he is,” I assure her. “The house is small but nice, right near the ocean and the sound.”
“That’s good. Has he fed you? I can send you some stew!”
“Don’t worry. I won’t starve to death,” I reply.
“When will we see you again?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. Soon,” I say because I can’t up and leave to go home right away. I’m not certain if Miles would let me even if I wanted to.
“What do you have planned for today?”
