Home. Adelyn Maxwell is my home.
“Your submission isn’t enough. I want more from you.” So much more. I’m not sure she’s ready for the degree of submission I’m talking about.
She locks her arms around my shoulders and rides me until she’s filled with my cum and completely satiated by her own orgasm.
We fall breathless onto the bed side by side, facing one another. She strokes her thumb down my cheek. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“What if I want to give you something?”
“Then I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
I smile because I don’t think she sees this coming. “I want to give you my name.”
There’s a moment when she doesn’t realize what I’m asking. And then there’s a moment when she does. And in between the two, there’s a split second where I get to watch her comprehension come full circle. And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Be my wife, Adelyn. Marry me.”
Shit, she’s just staring at me. No response. Have I fucked up by proposing too soon?
“I know this is quick. We’ve only known each other three months and we said we’d wait until the time is right and—”
“Shh.” She covers my mouth with her fingers. “Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll marry me?”
“Yes, I will marry you.”
Fuck.
She’s going to be my wife.
“Adelyn Thorn. It sounds good.”
“It sounds great.”
Twists and turns of fate. Although sometimes small, those are the little wonders forming our lives.
A house went on the market, bringing Adelyn and I together as neighbors. Two strangers. Except we weren’t strangers at all. Our paths were not crossing for the first time. And that once seemingly insignificant intersection of our lives suddenly became a pivotal moment in our futures. It had the potential to become one of two things: a wrecking ball to tear us apart or the cohesion to bond us together forever.
We choose together forever.
Epilogue
Adelyn Maxwell
One year later
I’m the owner of Bash Agency. I’ve organized some of the biggest weddings and extravagant receptions in the state. My wedding had been planned for years, long before I met Oliver. I had it all mapped out. Every little detail. A historic manor. Elaborate theme. Two dozen attendants. All the intricate elements required to impress the elite. The only thing missing was the groom.
Such bullshit. All of it.
Our venue is a former barn filled with fifty of our closest friends and family and my daddy is going to officiate. I’m ready to say “I do” to my handsome groom. So ready.
“Remember what we practiced, Willow? You’re going to walk down the middle of the barn holding Keeley’s hand.”
“I get to drop the petals this time?” Her small voice is so sweet.
“Yes. And when you get to the end, you’ll both stand next to Lawrence.”
My God, they are so adorable in their white tutu dresses. I don’t think I could stand it if they were any cuter.
I know putting a five- and three-year-old in my wedding is a risk. It could all go to shit in under a second but I don’t care. I’ve come to love Willow and Keeley dearly. I couldn’t imagine them not being part of our big day.
The girls start down the aisle and Patty, the wedding planner, turns to look at me. Yes, even I need a wedding planner. I couldn’t do everything and enjoy being the bride. “So far, so good. Keep your fingers crossed.”
The girls make it halfway to the bridal canopy before Keeley spots her daddy and takes off running for him. “Well, there goes one.”
All I can do is laugh. They’re kids. We knew it was a fifty-fifty shot of them doing it as rehearsed.
I promised them ponies at their next birthday parties if they did well in the wedding but who am I kidding? They’re getting ponies or anything else they want, regardless of their performance today. I go completely overboard for those precious girls.
Patty touches my arm. “It’s your turn.”
I walk the aisle formed by the two sections of guests, passing my bouquet to Lawrence when I reach the bridal canopy. Oliver takes my hands and I’ve never been surer of anything in my life when I look into his baby blues. I am his and this makes it official for all to know.
My daddy gives us a moment to take in the sight of each other before he begins, “Dearly beloved—”
Our wedding ceremony is short. And of course the scripture we requested is about wives submitting to their husbands. Had to.
Oliver may have been a bit teary-eyed when he first saw me but not now. I know the look I see there: lust. Except now it’s for his wife, his wife who will submit to him forever.
Alpha. Dominant. Oliver has mastered his craft well. He knows just how hard to push me. How hard to squeeze my throat. How far to take our bedroom games.
I’m getting turned on thinking about it. And it’s going to be hours before Oliver can make me come.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Oliver keeps our kiss tame. I warned him my mama and daddy would flip out if he didn’t keep it classy. I’m glad he heeded my warning about the kiss but his whispered words in my ear are not as subdued. “Mrs. Thorn, I’m going to fuck you into next week when I get you alone.”
“It pleases me greatly to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Thorn.”
oliver thorn
Hooded, lustful eyes watching me. Nibbling her bottom lip. Adelyn is giving me the look. Unspoken words telling me what she wants. What she needs.
But what the fuck am I supposed to do about it here? Now? We have fifty guests in this renovated barn ready to celebrate our nuptials with as much alcohol as they can hold.
My bride works her way through the crowd toward the back of the building, looking at me over her shoulder every few steps. Checking to be sure I’m following. Of course, I’m trailing her. I’ll follow her anywhere when she gives me that look.
The chase ends in the bridal room when I shut the door. And lock it. “Mrs. Thorn. You seem to be in need of something.”
She nods as she takes several steps backward, her back pressed against the wall. And I know exactly what I’m going to do to her. “Pull your dress up so I can see your sweet pussy.”
She grabs her wedding gown at the thighs and inches it up until she’s exposed from the waist down. Lacy white panties and a blue garter around her thigh. Fuck.
“I can’t see what’s mine. Pull your panties to the side.” Ah, there it is. Mrs. Thorn’s shiny, wet pussy. And damn if it doesn’t make me harder than Miss Maxwell’s.
Mine. All mine.
Her dress will make this a little tricky but it’s doable. Probably best from behind. “Turn around.”
I tug open the button on my pants and lower my zipper as I move toward her. She grabs at the layers and layers of white fabric as I push her wedding dress out of my way.
Fisting her panties, I drag them down her legs. It’s one less thing to hold out of the way. “Feet apart.”
One hand goes to my cock to guide it into my wife’s warm, inviting entrance, the other goes to her throat. “This what you want, Mrs. Thorn? To be fucked against the wall by your husband while you’re still wearing your wedding dress?”
“Yes.”
I enter her hard and fast and deep. Fuck. I never tire of that gasp.
My cock no longer needs my hand for guidance so I move it to her clit. I want her to come so hard. “Feels good?”
“Yesss.”
Her breathing and pulse pick up as she grinds harder. I apply bilateral pressure on her carotids. I know exactly what Adelyn’s body needs to push her over the edge into pure ecstasy.
“I love you, Max.” So fucking much.
“Love… you… too.” Her words vibrate against the tips of my fingers.
She beats me to the finish line and I release the pressure on her throat a couple sec
onds after I feel her come around my cock. As always, her climax is the onset of mine.
I shut my eyes and wrap my arm around her upper body as I deliver the last few final thrusts. “I’m coming inside you so hard, baby.”
We’re both breathless and trembling when I thrust that last time.
Fuck, that was hot. The perfect way to consummate this marriage.
“My legs are shaking like crazy. I need to sit down a minute.”
I scoop Adelyn from the floor and carry her to the sofa. “That good, huh?”
“Yeah. That good.”
I sit next to her and cup her hands around mine, bringing them to my lips for a kiss. “I love you, Mrs. Thorn.”
“I love you, Mr. Thorn.”
We both jolt when the bridal room door suddenly swings open, my new mother-in-law standing in the doorway. Fuck, my pants are still wide open. “There you are. Everything okay in here?”
Adelyn jerks around to look at me, her eyes shooting daggers.
I locked the fucking door. I know I did.
“I’m fine, Mama. My feet were hurting so I was taking a quick break.”
“Okay. Just checking.” Mrs. Maxwell’s eyes meet mine. “Michael wants to speak with you for a minute before y’all leave.”
I can do without my father-in-law’s private conversations.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Adelyn waits until her mother is gone to slap my chest. “She almost walked in on us. Do you know what she’d have done if she saw you choking me against the wall while you fucked me from behind? From. Behind. Oliver. She probably would have assumed you were putting it in my ass.”
“I locked the door. You saw me.”
“Then how did she open it?”
I chuckle as I picture the scene had she come in two minutes earlier. Boy, that would be a hard one to explain to my mother-in-law. “I don’t know, baby. Maybe she got the key or maybe the door didn’t catch all the way.”
“That can’t happen again.”
“I hope you don’t mean the fucking against the wall part because I loved the hell out of that.”
“I loved it too.” She stands and straightens her dress. “Come on. We have guests to entertain.”
I spot my father-in-law as soon as we leave the bridal room. “What do you think your dad wants to talk about?”
“Honeymoon pointers?” She giggles but I’m not as entertained as her. I don’t enjoy sex talks with my wife’s father.
“I hope not.” I think that might be more uncomfortable than his telling me about popping Mrs. Maxwell’s cherry. Whatever it is, might as well get it over with.
“I’m going to see what he wants.”
“Don’t worry. He probably just wants to tell you how proud he is to have you for a son-in-law.”
One can hope.
Brother Maxwell pats me on the back. “Come with me, Oliver. I want a private word with you.”
I follow my father-in-law to the room where I just fucked his daughter from behind against the wall. “I wanted to tell you how happy I am to have you as my son-in-law.”
What a fucking relief. I was almost thinking he wanted to talk about our wedding night.
“I’m glad to hear that, Brother Maxwell.”
“Call me Michael.”
I nod but that’s going to take some getting used to. I’ve only been around my father-in-law a handful of times over the last year.
He sits on the sofa and I follow suit. Don’t guess this is going to be the quick conversation I was hoping for.
“I once asked you to not break Adelyn’s heart or ruin her for the man who’d want to be her husband. I thank you for keeping your word.”
I’m pretty sure I ruined her for every other man in the world. And I’m not sorry about it.
“She’s been my girl for twenty-eight years but now I’m entrusting her to you. Her soul belongs to God but she’s your girl now. Her heart. Her body.”
She has been my girl since the day she stood in my driveway holding a basket of baked goods.
“Adelyn has all of my heart. I’m going to take care of her. I’ll never hurt her.”
We’re going to have a happy life together.
“Anyone can see how much you love her. I know you will be the amazing man she deserves.” My father-in-law puts his hand on my shoulder. “A little wedding night advice, son?”
“Of course.” Because that’s not weird at all.
“I know you’ll be eager to have her but take things slow and easy. You only get to have your wife beneath you for the first time once.”
Oh, Michael. You only get to fuck your wife against a wall for the first time once as well. And we did that just fine without your advice.
“Slow and easy. Got it.”
Maybe that’ll put his mind at ease, believing his virginal daughter isn’t the lamb coming to the lion between the sheets.
Instead, she’s a submissive wife coming to her alpha husband.
ADELYN MAXWELL THORN
22 months later
Oliver pokes me in the leg with his toes. “He’s crying for you.”
“No. I think he’s crying for you.”
I feel the bed shift as Oliver rolls to look at the clock. “Fuck, it’s only five. Why is he waking up so early?”
“You said he went to sleep at eight. That means he’s had a full night of sleep. The boy’s ready to eat and play.”
Oliver groans as he slides off the bed. “I’ll get him since you had a late night.”
I haven’t had a late-night event in a long time but last night’s was one of my biggest jobs ever.
“Bring him to me. I’ll feed him,” I call out to Oliver.
I sit up and straighten my shirt, holding my arms out. “Hey there, cutie.”
Emeric latches on to the bottle’s nipple and sucks hard. Poor little thing looks like he’s starving. “Lawrence said he hates taking a bottle and would probably fuss about it, but he seems content enough.”
“He’s part Thorn. He’ll take food any way he can get it.”
“Have you heard from them?”
“Of course. Lawry FaceTimed three times yesterday so she could see him. She cried the last time because he was already asleep and couldn’t hear her voice.”
A mother’s love is precious. “I know they hated to leave him but it’s good for them to have alone time.”
Life was rough for Lucas and Lawrence before Emeric was born. They lost two babies within six months. Thank God for this little guy.
“It’s only a couple of months until our anniversary.” Two years. I can’t believe the way time has flown. “Should we take a trip?”
Oliver shifts his gaze to me. “I was thinking we might have one of these little guys, or at least one on the way, by the time our anniversary rolls around next year. Maybe we should take advantage this year and do an extended international trip. I was thinking a few days in Dublin and then Edinburgh before hopping over to London and Paris.”
Oliver loves taking me places. Reminds me so much of how Quentin loves showing Libby the world.
“You want one of these little guys that soon, huh?” I hear the tremor in my voice even if he doesn’t.
My heart leaps into my throat and I feel like I need to throw up as I wait to hear his response.
“Yeah. Emeric needs a cousin. I don’t want to wait until they’re so far apart in age they won’t be close growing up. They’ll one day run Iron City together. They should be buddies from the beginning.”
“You sound like you think it’ll automatically be a boy.”
“I guess I see us with a boy because of Emeric but he can be tight with a girl cousin. A daughter could run Iron City as well as a son. Look at Lawry and all she’s accomplished. And you.”
Oliver introducing the idea of getting pregnant before our next anniversary is news to me.
“Having a baby next year will put them two years apart. Maybe two and a half. Don’t you think they’d be better pals if
they were more like fourteen months apart?”
I’ve already done the math in my head.
“Of course, but that would mean you’d have to get pregnant really soon.”
“Or I’d have to already be pregnant. Like maybe six or seven weeks.”
Oliver stares at me, his brow wrinkled, and I gulp as I await his response. My fate. I don’t know what I’ll do if he isn’t as thrilled as me.
“Are you pregnant?”
The knot in my throat aches from holding in my tears. “I’ve known for a week but I didn’t know how to tell you.” The last word leaves my mouth and I burst into tears.
I’ve gone over this moment in my head a million times since I peed on that stick and two lines appeared.
“Why are you crying?”
I don’t want to taint this moment but I have to be real. “You said you weren’t ready the last time we talked about getting pregnant.”
I know I didn’t do this alone but I’m the one in charge of birth control. I hope he doesn’t feel like I failed him.
“I don’t know what happened. I didn’t miss any pills. Not one. I need you to know that. But I also need you to know I’m not sorry it happened. I want this baby very much. I already love it.”
“Fuck. We’re having a baby.”
I can’t tell what kind of reaction that is.
Oliver moves and kneels by me on the bed. He grasps my face and kisses me hard. “I love you so much.”
He places his palm on my stomach. “When will it come?”
“The pregnancy website estimates November third, but I’ll find out for sure when I see the doctor next week.”
“I can’t believe it.” He’s beaming and so am I. “A baby. Our baby.”
Oliver tickles Emeric under his chin. “Hear that, little dude? You’re getting a baby cousin.”
Oliver stretches out across the bed, pulls up my shirt, and places his palm on my stomach. “It’s right there, Max, beneath my hand. Already forming and growing.” He rubs in a circular motion. “Have you been sick?”
“Yes.” The last several mornings have already been rough.
Neighbor Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 2) Page 24
