Given to the Groom

by Annabelle Winters

  I take a breath and grunt as I stroke her soft hair. “I will admit it is a bit far-fetched, but the few facts we have fit the explanation,” I say with a cool confidence that’s oozing through me as I feel things fit tighter together even though I do not have all the facts, will perhaps never have all the facts.

  But perhaps I do not need all the facts, I think as I glance down at the ring I placed on her finger, a diamond that reminds me that I still have a chance to pass this test, that a god creates his own world, bends reality to fit his needs. Facts? To hell with facts.

  “Facts do not matter as much as we think,” I whisper as my thoughts and speech blend together seamlessly like fiction and reality are joining in a surreal dance that makes my head spin, makes my heart pound, makes me tighten my grip on Bellanca even as I feel my grip on the real world slip away. “No, facts do not matter. Not when it feels like this, Bellanca. Not when it feels like this.”

  “It’s . . . it’s Bell,” she whispers up at me as I firmly fist her hair with one hand and cup her ass with the other until she’s completely under my control. “My name’s Bell. Everyone calls me Bell.”

  Slowly I shake my head as I lean in and lick her lips with the tip of my tongue. “Not anymore,” I growl. “You are Bellanca. Bellanca, wife of Brakos. And one more thing, Bellanca, wife of Brakos: This was not a setup, not a hookup, not an arranged meeting. You were given to me, Bellanca. Simple as that. You were given to me, and you are mine. Mine, you hear. All mine.”

  She tries to say something, but I am done talking. The facts can wait. The details can wait. Fucking everything can wait.

  Because there’s something that needs to happen now.

  Right now.

  So with the gods of old watching from their theater seats on the misty slopes of Mount Olympus, I give in to the siren song of my curvy bride, say to hell with what I thought I was, to hell with the facts, the details, the what or when or why or how.

  All that matters is now.

  All that counts is here.

  Because here, in my arms, is my forever.

  5

  BELL

  Bellanca.

  Wife of Brakos.

  You are Bellanca now.

  Bellanca always.

  Bellanca forever.

  His voice echoes in my head even as his tongue drives into my mouth, even as his fingers claw at my hair, one hand cups my ass as he grinds into me, kissing me with a need so furious, an energy so dominant, so possessive, so all-encompassing that I can barely see straight.

  I am Bellanca now, I say to myself as I finally bring my arms up and embrace my husband, a man whose name I didn’t know until after our wedding. A man I still don’t know but am giving myself to like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Was this what it was like a hundred years ago, in the old country, the old world, a world where men took what they wanted and women gasped and mewled and whimpered in submission? Am I weak for submitting? Am I a pushover for breaking? Did I break?

  Or did I break him . . .

  The thought hits me like a hammer just as Brakos snaps the waistband of my panties with one hand, his strong fingers breaking the elastic with such ease I can’t help but wonder what he could do to a man’s neck if he chose to use his full strength. The thought somehow gets my arousal to spike upwards, and before I know it I’m hungrily kissing him back as he rubs my mound hard and rough from beneath, fingering my cunt so deep my wetness pours out like a river.

  “I told myself I would not touch you,” he growls against my cheek as he drives three fingers into my vagina and curls them up against the sensitive front wall. “And now all I can think about is touching you, taking you, possessing you, owning you. I lasted less than a day with you, Bellanca. You broke me after one day of marriage. Only the gods know what will become of me after thirty years of marriage.”

  “I don’t think I’m gonna last thirty years if this is how . . .” I start to say, but I can’t finish the sentence because in a swift, violent movement Brakos yanks me down from my kneeling position, slams me flat on the bed with a force that takes my breath away, spreads my thighs so wide it hurts, and then rams his face into my wide-open slit with a roar that I swear sounds like some beast of myth is between my legs.

  I scream as I come all over his face, all over my thighs, soaking the sheets as Brakos devours my pussy like a man gone mad. Then I come again as he slides one hand up along my thrashing body, pushing my dress up, snapping my bra’s underwire like it’s a twig, pinching my nipples with brutish urgency and gripping my throat in a way that sends a wild mix of fear and arousal ripping through me.

  Brakos drives his tongue in and out of me with such speed and urgency that I don’t know if I’m coming again or just never stopped coming. It’s like he’s lost control, but at the same time the way he’s gripping my throat with a mixture of tenderness and dominance is messing with my head. The pressure is almost perfect—just enough for me to know I’m under his control but not enough to hurt me. Just enough for the fear to take me to a place I didn’t know I wanted to go, but not enough to take me to a point where I’m actually scared for my life.

  I buck my hips and come once more for Brakos, arching my neck back and licking my lips in ecstasy as I feel him slide his other hand beneath my raised rump and push his thick middle finger into my asshole. The sensation is sublime, and I moan as my consciousness tries to come to terms with how totally Brakos is taking me. His tongue deep in my vagina, one finger curled inside my ass, his strong right hand gripping my throat as I come like a woman possessed.

  And then suddenly he’s gone, releasing me from his grip and pulling out of me from everywhere at once. I flick my eyes open as I wonder again that maybe it was all a dream, and I almost cry out, almost reach out to pull myself back into the dream that I so desperately wanted to escape just a few minutes ago!

  I’m thrashing on the bed as I try to focus, and when I manage to see straight I almost go blind with arousal.

  Brakos has drawn back and torn his silk underwear off his muscular hips like he’s a freakin’ werewolf going insane under a full moon, and I stare as his cock springs out, fully hard, massively erect, the sudden release spraying pre-cum all over my stomach and breasts like he’s marking me. All I can do is stare at his monstrous shaft that I swear looks thicker than a tree-trunk. His cockhead shines like a dark red comet, oozing his clean natural oil, and all I can think about is how deep he’s going to push that thing, how hard he’s going to drive it in, how full I’m going to be when he empties those big Greek balls inside me.

  “Ohmygod, what’s happening to me?” I mutter as I watch Brakos grasp his cock and slap it against my clit until I’m convulsing in ecstasy. The thoughts ripping through me are so vulgar, so twisted, so primal I seriously wonder if I’ve lost my mind.

  But then Brakos looks me in the eye and smiles, and as I feel his cockhead spread the mouth of my slit, feel his shaft open me up like I’ve never been opened, feel his length go deeper than I thought was possible, I know I’ve lost my damned mind.

  “The gods brought us together,” Brakos groans as he finally enters me all the way and holds himself there, his cock so impossibly deep that I feel it in my throat. “And when I am finished not even the gods will be able to tear us apart.”

  6

  BRAKOS

  My own world is torn apart as I enter Bellanca with all the man in me, all the man I am, all the everything I am. In fact it does not matter what I am anymore, what I thought I was, what I yearned to be.

  A god? An animal? King? Boss?

  None of those labels means a thing when I’m faced with the terrible truth:

  All I am is hers.

  That is all.

  My eyes roll up in my head and I roar to the heavens as her warmth overwhelms me, her soft sex opens for me, opens for Brakos, opens for her husband.

 
I drive into her and hold myself there, look into her big brown eyes that are misty and unfocused but yet looking right into me. I caress her hair as I feel her tight, warm vagina press against my cock like she’s holding me in there.

  “You are so warm, Bellanca,” I whisper, flexing inside her and making her seize up. I am so damned deep I know I’m reaching places that are untouched inside her, claiming a part of her that no man has ever claimed, no man could ever claim. “So bloody tight, Bellanca.”

  “Bellanca . . .” she whispers as I start to move inside her. “It’s so strange to hear someone call me that. It sounds so new, but still old in a way. Bellanca.”

  “That is what this feels like, yes?” I say softly even as I move harder inside her, the fire of my need burning brighter, my cock flexing on its own as I pull back and then push deep once more. “New, but still old. Our first time even though it feels like forever.”

  “Plastic flowers and artificial sweetener,” she mutters through a trembling smile as I lick her neck, suck her boobs, slide my hands beneath her rump and raise her ass as the animal in me starts to come alive, like it’s been waiting to be taken off the leash.

  “I come from a long line of epic Greek poets, clearly,” I growl, biting down gently on her left nipple and making her gasp. “And our children will inherit my way with verse.”

  “Your vay with werse?” she says, giggling and then groaning as I dig my fingers into her buttocks and raise her hips so I can drag my cockhead against the front wall of her vagina as I fuck her. “Oh, shit. Do that, Brakos. Oh, God, keep doing that. Oh. Oh. Oh!”

  She comes all over my balls as I hit her fibrous g-spot and flex my cock to apply just the right amount of pressure. Then I reach between us and rub her clit with my thumb, licking my lips and grinning when I feel her body thrash and flail beneath me as I take her climax over the top, watch her orgasm rise like a serpent from the sea and then crash down like a tidal wave hitting the shore.

  And now my own need to take her rises up like a monster of the underworld, and as Bellanca comes in my arms I plunge myself deep into her dark valley, bringing forth a scream that I know comes from the deepest part of her soul, the part that now belongs to me.

  I slam my powerful hips against hers, driving my cock in so hard my balls slap against her skin. And now I’m pounding, plundering, taking everything, claiming it all. I grab her by the back of the neck, one hand still firmly gripping her ass as I furiously take her. She’s hunched over, mouth hanging open in shock as she stares down between us at the sight of my mammoth cock spreading her slit so wide I know she’s never been opened up like this.

  Her soft pubic curls are glistening with our juices, the drops of our natural oils shining like diamonds. I look into her eyes and then we both look down along our naked bodies like we’re seeing ourselves for the first time.

  “You’re so damned beautiful, Bellanca,” I mutter as I see her magnificent breasts shudder in the most exhilarating way each time I slam my cock back into her. “Your body was built for mine. Built for our children.”

  I see her face go flush, her eyelids fluttering like she’s panicking at the reminder of the reality that’s unfolding here. The reality that Brakos is going to empty his balls into her, fill her with his seed, take her the way a man is supposed to take a woman.

  “You hear me, Bellanca?” I growl, gritting my teeth as I feel my climax start to build from the depths of my heavy balls. “You feel me? You feel this? You feel . . . us?”

  She nods her head and moves her lips, and I look into her eyes and just explode, my climax coming so hard and strong that I almost black out. It has been years since I allowed myself to touch a woman, but even in my wildest days I know it never felt like this. This is special. This is real. This is . . .

  “Se agapo!” I roar as my seed erupts inside her, my semen shooting against the farthest reaches of her cunt, flooding her so fast she’s overflowing down my shaft even as I pump more into her. My balls clench and release, delivering load after load into my wife as if I’ve been saving it all for her. “Se agapo!”

  The blood pounds in my head as I pull back and drive into her again, my orgasm still going, my hard body clenching along with my balls. My fingers are digging so hard into Bellanca’s ass I know they will leave marks on her smooth skin. I’m pounding her so deep I know she will be stiff in the morning. She’s screaming and wailing, thrashing and flailing. But she’s got her arms around me, and as I feel her nails draw blood from my back, ripping through flesh and skin, I roar and lick my lips, welcoming the pain, reveling in it, taking in the smell of blood and sex, inhaling the aroma of our union.

  With one last massive push I finish inside Bellanca, emptying myself into her in ways that seem to go beyond the physical, like I have given much more than just my seed, that she has accepted much more than just my sex.

  And finally I collapse on her, my weight pressing her body into the mattress and pushing her so deep I wonder if I’m smothering her.

  But then I feel her fingers in my thick black hair, and I smile and kiss her neck.

  “Saga-po?” she says from beneath me, her voice muffled. “What does that mean?”

  I grunt and slowly pull back, frowning as I look upon her face that’s streaked from the strain, peaked from the passion. “Are you bloody serious? What kind of a Greek are you?”

  “The American kind,” she says. “Are you gonna answer me or do I have to push you off me and check the internet?”

  “Good luck pushing me off you,” I say, spreading my arms out wide and grinning as she gasps from the enormity of my weight.

  “I’m surprisingly strong, actually,” she says, grunting as she tries to push me off her. She is in fact quite strong, but her efforts cannot work. “Oof. Well, maybe not that strong. What do you eat? Concrete?”

  I laugh and slowly roll off her, groaning in satisfaction as my cock slides out from her pussy, a long trail of my thick semen still connecting us as I grope for the side-table. “Speaking of food, you have not eaten,” I say, reaching for the room-service menu and opening it up as I draw Bellanca into my body. She cuddles against me, and I can barely read the menu as a feeling of warmth flows through me like a magic spell.

  “Se agapo,” I say, caressing her soft hair as I watch her read the menu like she’s only just realizing that she must not have eaten in maybe twenty-four hours! “You really do not know what that means?”

  “I told you, we speak American here, not Greek,” she says firmly, reaching out and flipping the page. “Are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?”

  I turn her head so she’s forced to look into my eyes. “Guess,” I say. “Look into my eyes and you will know what it means.”

  Bellanca looks into my eyes. She’s smiling at first, but then I can see the understanding wash over her and I know she feels it, feels this warmth that’s bonding us together, cementing our union, guaranteeing our forever.

  “Do you understand what it means now, Bellanca?” I whisper.

  She blinks and then nods, and I lean in and kiss her with a gentleness that I didn’t think I had in me.

  “Yes,” I say as she nuzzles against me like a kitten. “That is exactly what it means. It means I love you. I love you, Bellanca. I love you.”

  7

  BELL

  I love you.

  The words echo in my head as I pretend to read the room-service menu. Of course, I can’t read shit. The letters are dancing on the page like they’re alive, swirling around and switching places to form new words that make me giggle.

  I’m nestled into Brakos’s big body, and I smile as his earthy scent comes to me, his musk filling me in a way that makes me think I don’t need to eat. All I need is right here. All I need is this.

  All I need is him.

  “Brakos,” I whisper, blinking as I look up past his thick, sinewy neck, up at his
chiseled face, into those green eyes that say so much even though I know they’re hiding so much more. Hiding things a part of me doesn’t want to know! “Brakos, I . . . I . . .”

  “You do not need to say it,” he says with a grunt. “I know it. Your body has told me what I need to know. When your American brain catches up, you can say it then.” He grabs the menu from me and flips through the pages, his face darkening as I stare at him, wondering if he’s really just decided that I . . . that I love him!

  Do I love him?

  But I can't be in love so soon!

  But how can I not be in love when it feels like this?

  I look up at him again, about to say what I know feels right even though it's logically impossible, even though it makes no sense, even though--

  But once again Brakos stops me with just his eyes. One slow blink is all it takes, and I just melt when I understand that he doesn't need to hear me say it, doesn't need to put me through the mental anguish of fighting my modern-ass sensibilities. He's too self-confident and old-fashioned for that.

  No, he doesn't need me to say it.

  He knows it.

  I know it.

  And with one more slow, knowing blink, Brakos turns back to the menu and it's done.

  We're in love.

  We're married.

  So what now?

  “Now, we feast. Brakos is hungry, even if you are not,” he says, and the mood suddenly lightens like we just walked out of the wedding chapel into a shower of rose petals and rice! I'm almost delirious with this feeling, this sudden certainty, this overwhelming peace, and I just lean my head back and laugh.

  “What’s with referring to yourself in the third person?” I finally say as he reaches out a muscled arm and paws at the hotel phone. “You know nobody does that in real life, right?”