by James, Gemma
I glanced down at the box clutched between my fingers now, but Mom was gone, I was no longer a child, and the pendant sat nestled against a shiny, black lining instead of her slender throat. I blinked but couldn’t stave off the pain of her loss, the missing years I’d never get back, the questions I’d probably never find the answers to.
Three days from now would mark one of the happiest days of my life, but she wouldn’t be there to share in it.
The only thing I had left of her sat inside a pretty, cold box.
Wiping at the tears on my cheeks, I picked up the letter from my dad and began reading.
Alexandra,
Your mother wanted you to have this. She can’t be there with you on your big day, but she’s there in spirit.
— Dad
That was it. A single fucking line. Two short sentences. But that was Dad. He wasn’t the sentimental kind, so the fact that he sent the necklace at all said a lot. Maybe there was a little life left in his cold, dead heart.
Three days later, I didn’t put the necklace on for him. I did it for Mom. As far as I was concerned, my dad was dead to me.
“Are you ready?”
I turned at the sound of Angel’s voice. She bent and smoothed the bottom of my dress. As soon as we were situated outside the room we’d transformed into the bridal dressing area, I knew she’d adjust my train before I walked the short distance to Rafe.
I hadn’t known her for long, but I trusted her more than some people I’d known since high school, because she’d been broken same as me, and like me, she’d found a way to glue her pieces back together again. We were kindred spirits.
“I’m ready,” I said with a hard swallow. As she signaled to the guys that we were about to begin, I prayed to a higher power that Rafe and I would be allowed this one day.
This one perfect fucking day, with the temperature a breezy eighty degrees, the sun dipping toward the horizon as it shone its rays onto the rows of grape vines in the distance. Not many things had escaped the fiery destruction of my lie at fifteen, but Mason Vineyards had been saved, despite the fire our enemies had set ablaze as a sick form of retribution.
I saw the salvaging of the vineyard as a sign of hope.
“He’s waiting,” Angel said.
A simple statement, but true in its simplicity. Rafe Mason had been waiting for over eight years.
To enact revenge for the sins I’d committed against him.
To succumb to the darkness inside his soul, allowing him the freedom to unleash his twisted fantasies on me.
To love me.
I let out a breath, and the wind carried it away as I took my first step. The instant I came within view of Rafe, I felt the weight of his stare on me. My gaze traveled a slow journey up the vines of roses weaving through the trellis and finally settled on Rafe. He stood under the arch, Jax and Adam at his side, and the way he looked at me stole my breath, his intensity winding around me like a chain I couldn’t escape.
A chain I welcomed far beyond “until death do us part.” Eternity spanned before us, immeasurable in its certainty.
Angel’s steps halted as she reached the front. Her shyness was never more apparent as she watched me close the distance from underneath her lashes, her sage green dress flowing in the gentle wind.
I soaked in every detail and catalogued it, determined to never forget a single moment of this day. The warm grass under my bare feet, the azure sky overhead, not a cloud in sight. The breeze kissing my cheeks, tumbling a dark curl across my eyes before settling into place again.
The closer I got to Rafe, the more he reeled me in. The world faded away, leaving only him and me. Green eyes locking on green eyes, hearts colliding with the promise of eternity. The sun beat warmth onto my back as it dipped toward the earth. By dusk, Rafe and I would be married.
I’d be his wife.
Society wouldn’t understand our union. They’d only see the criminal and the accuser.
None of that mattered. I pushed those thoughts out of my head because on this day nothing should be wrong. This was the day I’d waited for, had dreamed of for years, never believing it would come to fruition.
But it had, and now I stood in front of Rafe, passing my bouquet of calla lilies to Angel before lacing my fingers with his.
“I have no words, Alex. You are…stunning.” His voice broke as he brought his hand to my face and cupped my cheek, fingers trembling. Our interlocked hands tightened.
He’d never looked sexier in clothes. Naked Rafe would always be my favorite sight, but seeing him in slacks and a dress shirt, a tie neatly knotted at his throat, was drool-worthy.
I didn’t know how long we stood like that, his hand cradling my face as we eye-fucked each other on the proverbial altar. If the silence was uncomfortable, we didn’t care.
The officiant cleared his throat, and the ceremony began. We went through the motions, repeating the customary words, conforming to society’s expectations. But our bodies would speak the real vows in the bedroom tonight, infusing our union with the intensity that flowed between us when we came together.
Only tonight, we’d do it for the first time as husband and wife.
Rafe took my left hand in his and slid the ring onto my finger, this time for good. “With this ring, I pledge my love to you.”
A smile tilted my lips at the perfect irony; the ring he’d chosen nearly matched my mother’s necklace.
The only true family heirloom I had from my past life.
My turn arrived, and I squeezed his hand, drawing strength from him as I pushed a simple gold band onto his finger. “With this ring,” I said, my voice little more than a whisper as I met his eyes, “I pledge my love to you.”
We were both grinning like fools when those magical words were uttered in the same sentence.
Husband and wife.
The next instant, Rafe’s mouth was on mine.
27. A GIFT TO REMEMBER
Alex
After a close-knit celebratory evening of food, drinks, and so much happiness, I feared it was all a fluke, Rafe tucked me into a boat and carted me off to the island. Once we reached the dock, he took my hand and helped me out of the craft, his grip strong and reassuring.
My white sneakers had barely touched the wooden planks before he swept me off my feet.
“Rafe!” I laughed, arms winding around his neck.
“I want to carry my bride to my lair.”
He was a little tipsy, and smiling when our mouths crashed together, hungry to mate, same as our bodies. Same as our souls.
“Mmm,” he moaned, breaking the kiss. “I’m tempted to spread you out here and have my way with you.”
“Right here on the dock?”
“Imagine the show we’d put on.” Shooting me a teasing grin, he started toward the cabin, feet thumping on the dock.
I liked him this way, armed with champagne and happiness. He was far from drunk though, his footfalls steady on the path that led to the cabin. He’d consumed just enough bubbly not to notice that I’d only taken a sip for the toast.
Jax, on the other hand, had sent questioning looks in my direction all night, and at one point while he was talking to Rafe, the two of them standing off by themselves in semi-privacy, I’d been certain he was outing me.
But Rafe had returned to my side, mood unchanged, apparently still oblivious to the miracle growing inside me. Whatever the two of them had talked about, it hadn’t included the secret I was keeping.
The secret I’d have to tell him soon.
The cloud of my pregnancy threatened to hover, but I warded it off at the first up-close sight of our new home. The cabin was an A-frame with an oblong porch spanning the length of the front. It was too dark to make out details though I spied a hammock at one end of the porch as Rafe carried me over the threshold.
He stepped into a sunken living room, and I giggled because he still held me secure in his arms, as if he might never let me go. He brought his lips down on mine, and my laught
er died as his tongue swept inside my mouth.
We stood like that for what seemed like forever.
Swaying.
Fucking each other with our tongues.
Getting hotter and harder.
“I need you,” I whispered, breaking our lip-lock.
“You know I’m gonna do very sick and depraved things to you, right?”
“I hope so.”
Rafe plucked the roses from my hair, one at a time, and let them drop to the floor. Next went the pins holding my locks into a twist. As my curls fell around my shoulders, he set me on my feet, and that’s when I noticed Jax lingering in the shadows, still decked out in his wedding attire. I shot a confused glance at Rafe.
“I thought we had the cabin to ourselves.”
“We do.” Something shifted inside Rafe. He curled his hand around my throat, and I stood unmoving in his gentle grip, breath catching as I darted a glance between him and Jax.
“I’m leaving town with Angel in a few hours,” Jax said. “You guys will have this honeymoon haven all to yourselves for at least a week, trust me.”
“Why are you here then?”
“Got a wedding gift for you guys.”
“Oh.” That was all I could say. My mind raced ahead of me with all kinds of possibilities. One might equate wedding gift with a picture frame or a bread maker.
I knew better.
Rafe stepped closer, and his fingers flexed around my throat. My spine went rigid, my neck an elongated picture of submission in the circle of his hand. There was something reverent about his hold as his thumb swept the side of my neck in a caress that aroused. He planted his lips on mine in a kiss so brief and light that it was a mere tease. I swallowed a growl of frustration.
“Turn around, baby.”
I did as told, and Rafe pushed me toward a dark couch, color undetectable in the shadows of night, and bent me over the arm. He grabbed the bottom of my dress, and that was when I remembered his specific alterations to the back of my gown, designed to bare my ass. At the time, I’d figured he’d done it because he wanted easy access on our wedding night.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
With Jax loitering in the living room, and Rafe pinning up the back of my dress, making the chill of nighttime drift across my ass, I was certain his plans for me were more nefarious.
The quiet pad of footsteps sounded, and Jax came fully into view. In his hands, he held a white paddle riddled with holes.
White for the theme of a wedding gift.
Holes for the promise of pain.
Apprehension collected in my throat, even as the space between my thighs flooded with warmth. “You’re gonna paddle me?” I asked, glancing at Rafe from over my shoulder.
“No, Jax is.”
My mind screeched in protest, but as Rafe yanked me up by the shoulders and spun me around, I couldn’t get a word out. I stumbled back a few feet, my backside completely bare and exposed to Jax’s gaze. I’d been naked in front of him before. I’d been naked in front of a lot of people. I’d even been beaten by men other than Rafe, and Jax had been one of them.
But this was our wedding night.
Tears threatened, and I was reminded of the sharp pain my heart endured the first time he fucked me.
His anger.
My lie.
Both had contributed to the beginning of us. But that had been before we’d gone through hell and back to get to this night.
Now he wanted to fucking ruin it.
I blinked a few times, holding back the bitter drops that wanted to fall off my lashes. I didn’t want to give him my tears. Not with this utter sense of betrayal coiling around my heart.
Rafe brushed his thumb back and forth underneath my eye as if picking up phantom tears of pain. “I won’t punish you on our wedding night, but tomorrow is another day.” His light touch along my cheekbone demanded I obey his rule. A single blink released the salty drops he craved, and he kissed each one from my cheeks.
“What is this, then?”
“A fantasy of mine. Will you trust me enough to give it to me?”
The gravity of his stare grounded me, and all of my fear evaporated. All the hurt and doubt. “I love you. I’ll trust you with anything.”
That seemed to be all the assurance he needed. He loosened his tie and yanked it from around his neck before pushing my wrists to my back. He imprisoned my body in the cage of his embrace as he bound my hands together. Satisfied that I couldn’t break free of my impromptu bonds, he stepped back a few inches and pulled something from his pocket. An O-ring gag dangled in front of my face.
“Open up.”
This wasn’t a punishment.
I had to remind myself of that as I parted my lips. He shoved the gag in, stretching my mouth wide, then fastened the strap around my head. His gaze shifted over my shoulder, most likely exchanging some sort of silent communication with Jax.
They relayed information like that, without words, much like Rafe and I did. Part of me hated it, was even jealous of the connection they had, because I was greedy and wanted Rafe all to myself.
“I needed an extra pair of hands for this, and there’s no one I trust more.” He locked eyes with me again. “He’s got my back, baby. Tonight, he has yours.” Rafe grabbed me by the chin. “He won’t do more than what I’ve given him permission to do.”
I tried shaking my head, despising how he’d left me incapable of speaking. In response, he tightened his hold on my jaw.
“On your knees, my beautiful wife.”
I hesitated a few seconds, silently pleading as drool escaped my gaping mouth. The fervor in his gaze catapulted me into surrender…into the blanketing comfort of his will. His voice might have been strong and commanding, his hold inescapable, but his eyes spit fervent flames.
He needed me as much as I needed him.
He needed this.
This twisted fantasy he wanted to share with me. I dropped to my knees, and my pulse tapped a rapid beat at my collarbone. I watched Rafe settle onto the leather couch, his knees spread, feet planted on the floor shoulder-width apart. He unbuttoned his slacks and lowered the zipper.
“Come to me on your knees.”
I went to him on shaky limbs, and my knees caught on the front of my dress, causing me to face-plant in his lap. He gripped me by the head and shoved his cock into my mouth.
That’s when I realized he wanted me off-balance.
“Damn.” A groan escaped his tight mouth. “Even gagged, you blow me out of my fucking mind.” Holding me immobile, he tilted his hips and thrust between my spread lips.
I sensed Jax shifting behind me, and I jerked as his foot tried nudging my legs apart. Instinct took over, and I fought to keep my thighs closed.
With Rafe’s cock heavy on my tongue, he stalled his thrusts, hands a cradle of love around my face. “Spread them, babe.”
I blinked.
“It’s okay,” he said, thumb sweeping across my cheek. “He’s not going to touch you.”
Maybe not with his hands, but that paddle taunted from the back of my mind. I spread my knees, the position leaving me too vulnerable, too exposed to another man’s gaze.
But if I knew Jax at all, his attention wasn’t on me. It was no secret the man had some sort of attachment to my husband.
“Arch your spine,” Rafe said. “I want your ass in the air.”
I pushed my breasts against the couch, my ass lifting toward the ceiling, and Jax brought the paddle down in a quick, firm strike. A grunt strangled free of my throat as Rafe shoved deeper. With each slap of the implement, he impaled me on his cock with unchecked violence, uninhibited by my willingness to let him fuck my mouth whenever and however he liked.
Slow and lazy.
Rough and deep.
This was my wedding gift to him. My surrender. My trust.
The crown of his shaft hit the back of my throat, and he pushed between my tonsils. Then he stopped and held the position that had me gagging every couple of s
econds. His hands were tight fists in my hair, knuckles hard against my scalp, and I hoped like hell my morning sickness wouldn’t kick in.
A few more breaths passed—his fast and shallow, and mine non-existent as I waited for him to make his next move.
His deep green gaze flicked toward Jax. “Now,” he groaned between gritted teeth.
Jax brought the paddle down in a succession of brutal strikes, freezing my vocal cords. I tried to cry out, tried to dislodge Rafe’s cock, but all that accomplished was more gagging on my part.
And I realized he’d planned this.
He wanted me gagging on him while my ass took the brunt of that wicked implement. It was humiliating, the sting unbearable and arousing all at once. There was no way I could deny the wetness coating the inside of my thighs. A delicious shiver traveled through me, and I gave myself over to the pain.
Let it claim and own me.
Gave in to the power that rushed through me as Rafe lost his shit to the wet glove of my mouth. He came down my throat with a hoarse cry, his eyes squeezed shut, almost as if the orgasm caused him pain.
Almost as if he weren’t ready to come but couldn’t help himself.
He slipped from my mouth, and if my lips hadn’t been forced into a perfect O, I would have smiled.
28. THE KEY
Rafe
A newly built prison awaited all sorts of perverse uses in the cellar. It was all I thought about as I laid Alex’s naked body on our bed for the first time, her wedding dress a puddle on the floor near the bedroom door. Her eyes drew me in, hook, line, and sinker.
The cage would have to wait. In the light of day, she’d get to know our new cabin on the island one square foot at a time. With each new discovery, she’d learn of all the things I planned to do to her. Some, she would love.
Others, not so much.
I stepped out of my pants, then unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off my shoulders. Alex veered upright, elbows sinking into the mattress, and pulled me down by the chain around my neck, her dainty hand folding around the gold key attached.
