by Ilsa Ames
The sensation lasted for a few delicious, long seconds, the powerful orgasm releasing the months of tension and frustration. I pulled Lia's naked body into mine, holding her against me as the orgasm started to fade.
I kissed her neck, and she melted against me as I relaxed my hips back down to sit on the couch, the afterglow of our orgasms coursing through both of us.
I didn't want the moment to end, but I knew now that she was mine, and we had plenty of time to spend in each other's arms.
I breathed in deeply, the smell of her hair, and the sweet smell of her sweat and sex filling my senses. It all seemed a little surreal, the months without her fading away as it dawned on me that I didn't have to be without her any more.
She was back. And I was gonna do everything I could—everything in my power to keep her safe and protect her.
I was never letting her go again.
Chapter Twenty
Lia
The sun was shining, casting its golden rays over the nearby mountain peaks. It was perfect weather for a perfect day—I couldn’t have asked for better.
My heart was in my mouth, and my legs felt like Jello. Today was finally the day—after all the planning, all the preparation, here we were.
Our wedding day. If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be standing here, about to marry Logan Prater, I would have laughed in your face. A year ago, he'd snatched me off the street, a masked stranger who had me fearing for my life.
And yet, it's funny how people surprise you. Like my father, who had turned out to be nothing like the man I'd always believed he was. And my kidnapper, who had turned out to be the love of my life.
Fate has a funny way about it sometimes, almost like a weird, twisted sense of humor. I giggled softly to myself, drawing a quizzical look from Logan's younger sister, who was my bridesmaid. "Maybe no more champagne for you until after the service," she laughed. "Logan will murder me if you show up drunk to the church."
“Hey, I'm not drunk, Hannah," I sighed. "Just... happy. And scared out of my mind. But mostly happy.”
I checked the mirror for the hundredth time, then glanced nervously over at her.
“Do I look okay?” I asked.
Hannah and Logan had been estranged for years. Like Logan, her life had been hard coming from the broken home they came from. They’d lost touch for years after he’d cleaned up is act after the drugs and the crime, but it wasn’t until word started to get out about the work he was doing here on the mountain that she’d finally found him again.
She just smiled warmly at me and raised an eyebrow.
“You look stunning woman! God knows how my hairy oaf of a big brother managed to trick you into marrying him.”
I grinned slyly.
“Well, he did knock me up. Kinda forced my hand a little.”
We laughed together, and I felt a little of the tension drain. Hannah was amazing, and had pretty much turned into my best friend after moving to our neck of the woods. I giggled as I took one more sip of champagne, but she was right—no more after this glass. I didn't want to stumble my way down the damn aisle.
I stepped over to the window and looked out. The whole town was milling around. Sure, it was a small town and there weren't really that many people, but it was still kinda terrifying.
I grinned as I saw Pete Damson, the guy who ran the local hardware store, playing with Elise. He was throwing her up into the air, and Elise was absolutely loving it.
Our daughter, Elise, had been born a few months after Logan and I were reunited. The rest of my pregnancy absolutely flew by, and I'd been so lucky that it had been so uneventful. I'd been so busy with helping Logan with the cleanup operation that I hadn't even had time to stress about the pregnancy. I was out and about right up until the day she was born, until Logan had pretty much had to force me to take a break.
The day she was born was absolutely the best day of my life. All the better because Logan had been by my side the entire time. It almost felt like a dream; just a few short months before I'd been scared that he wouldn't even want to see his baby, let alone be a part of her life.
But he'd been my rock all the way through, even taking a couple weeks off his work to stay home with us after we'd left the hospital. Logan had asked me if he wanted to sell the cabin, for us to get a place down in town. I had more than enough money from my mom to buy any place we might have liked, but I was happy to stay up in the mountains, just the three of us.
Logan's work on the cleanup began to really bear fruit in the first few months of Elise's life. Plants started to grow again, the trees came back from the dead. The day that he'd first discovered a budding green shoot, Logan had raced into the house, in a state of high excitement. His eyes were shining, his face almost manic. I'd been feeding Elise, and his disposition made me think something serious had happened. But no, he was just happy—deliriously happy.
"This is why I did it," he'd said, as we stood and inspected the lone little shoot. "This makes it all worth it. The sleepless nights, the endless work... it was all for this."
He'd gotten choked up then, and all I could do was reach out to him and pull him into a hug with Elise and me.
"I'm so proud of you," I'd whispered.
The bulk of the work in Logan's community had been finished just a couple months after Elise was born. There was less and less for him to do, and he spent more time at home. However, despite the happiness that I saw in him, when he was playing with Elise or just futzing around the house, I could see that there was something missing in him. A purpose, a meaning to his life. He'd spent so long working towards his goal that without it, he was sort of at a loose end.
One afternoon, after getting frustrated with him moping around the house with a face like thunder, I'd sat him down.
"Look, Logan," I'd said. "Don't misunderstand me, I love having you here, especially now with Elise to take care of. But, maybe you should start looking into something to fill the gap that finishing up this project has left in your life? I mean, there must be something you could do to put your skills to use? This country definitely isn't short of shithead CEO's and scummy corporations, right? Why not do some research and see if there are other people and communities out there who could use your help?"
A light had come on in his eyes as I'd said it.
"I mean... I gotta admit that I'd been considering it," he'd said. "I just figured that you were probably sick and tired of me being gone all the time and spending hours on my computer or driving around, especially now we have Elise. So I sort of abandoned the idea."
I'd laughed.
"I think if I spend any more time watching you mope around the house with puppy dog eyes like that I'll go insane," I'd said. "You're good at this—really freaking good. It would be a shame to see those skills go to waste. Hell, I'll even help you if you think I can be any use. I guess I need to find something to do now, my mom's money isn't gonna last forever, after all."
He'd spent the next few days locked away in his office, researching, sending emails, and making calls. I'd only seen him at mealtimes. But after a few more days, he'd emerged triumphant, clutching a sheaf of papers in his hands.
"Check this out," he'd yelled excitedly. "There's an old coal mine not far from here. For years the company in charge of it hasn't been respecting the laws regarding environmental protections, and they've been neglecting their duty of care to the miners. Black lung is a real problem for those guys, and there's definitely a case to be made for getting them help and compensation for their medical bills."
It was very similar to the issues that had been facing his home community, and over the next few weeks Logan had gone into overdrive, researching the relevant statutes and authorities, and getting in touch with the ex-miners suffering from black lung. He'd managed to demonstrate his prior experience to get an in with them and promised to represent their cause. In only a matter of weeks, he had something resembling a plan of action.
We eventually decided to go the legal route, and created a new no
n-profit, and that West Virginian coal-mining community had been our first client. Logan worked as hard as he'd ever done on his own community, and soon had a plan in place to hold those responsible accountable. I juggled the administrative tasks with taking care of Elise, and we soon found a balance that worked for us.
And really, we made a great team. Logan's organizational and investigative skills, combined with my administrative experience gave us a great foundation to work from. And before long we were making great progress in making things right for that mining community.
Soon enough, word began to spread about our activities, and requests for aid began to flood in—way more than we could possibly handle. We talked about expanding the non-profit and bringing on board more people, but it was going to be a process.
All I knew was that I was happy, truly happy, for the first time in my life. I had the family I'd always dreamed of, and a job that felt rewarding and satisfying. Righting the wrongs of people like my father, standing up for people and communities that couldn't do it themselves.
I had an Instagram account full of pictures and stories from all over the world but looking at it these days made me feel empty and hollow. I'd used to imagine that I was well-travelled and cultured, but it had all been filtered through a lens of privilege and luxury. I didn't want any of that now. The life I had was more than enough, actually making a difference to the world.
The little town church had been repainted for the first time in five years for the wedding—it looked picture perfect with the backdrop of the mountains behind it. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the clear mountain air. It was such a peaceful, beautiful place, and I felt truly privileged to live here.
The community had welcomed me with open arms. Originally, I'd had to tread carefully around questions regarding where Logan and I had met, but I soon felt just as much a part of the community as someone who had been born here. I came to realize why Logan had fought so hard for these people and this place, because there was something very special here. A true community, that had all come together in the face of adversity and overcome it.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I entered the little chapel, simply grateful that I was here, now, in this special place.
I didn't have any family or friends present—at least, not from my old life. But that didn't matter, because I was happy to leave that life behind. It wasn't a part of me anymore. I was going to be walked down the aisle on the arm of Richard Arnalds—an old family friend of Logan’s whose son he’d known growing up. And I couldn't think of anyone better than the kindly old man to do it.
As I heard the first strains of the wedding march, I took a deep breath, grabbed Richard’s hand, and opened the doors. The first steps into my new life.
The ceremony itself passed by mostly in a blur. I can recall snippets, like seeing Logan all dressed up in his finery and my breath catching in my throat at just how gorgeous he was. I remember the sea of smiling, laughing faces as we exchanged our vows.
And I definitely remember the softness of Logan's lips as we kissed for the first time as husband and wife. I'll always remember the vows that we exchanged, and never be more sure of anything in my life that we would keep them, forever.
The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of celebrations, dancing and eating and drinking. I was surrounded by family and friends, laughter and love, and I knew this was my place, these were my people.
I'd spent my life travelling the world, experiencing everything that money could possibly buy, but nothing, nothing at all could compare to my wedding day. There were no ostentatious displays of wealth, no fake smiles, no Instagram selfies. Just real people, enjoying life and celebrating with us. I felt so honored that they'd accepted me into their community.
And when the day was finally done, when everyone started drifting off towards home, and Logan and Elise and I began our walk back up to our cabin, Elise sleeping soundly cradled in Logan's strong arms, we walked in silence. Just being there, being with him, was enough.
We both kept looking at each other, eyes shining and mouths grinning, as if we couldn't quite believe that it was all real. The sun was just setting behind the distant mountain tops as we reached home, the light dimming in that special kind of dusk that only seemed to happen here. I caught a glint in Logan's eye as we approached the cabin, and he turned to me.
"Wait here," he whispered, and opened the door and took Elise inside, laying her gently down in her crib. He came back out and wrapped me in an embrace, his strong arms surrounding me. I melted into him, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent, of aftershave and musk, and I'd never felt happier or contented. When he spoke, his voice was muffled, and I could hear it resonating through his chest.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Prater," he murmured. "Betcha if I told you the first time that we met, that you'd marry me, you woulda just laughed in my face."
I giggled.
"Probably not, actually," I replied. "I would have gone along with anything you said, just in case you were some sort of psycho."
It was his turn to laugh.
"Nah," he said. "You were never like that. I remember being surprised at just how mouthy you were, always back-talking me. I thought you'd be all demure and shit, you know, with some masked idiot having bundled you into his car."
I pondered for a moment.
"I never have been much for demure," I said. "And good thing too, because walking up that mountain in this dress has pretty much ruined it. Look, mud and twigs everywhere."
He took a step back and appraised me, smiling.
"True," he grinned. "I guess we'd better get it off you then, huh?"
I played at shyness, kicking at the dirt.
"Aww, well I guess you're right, husband of mine. Would you be so kind?"
He stepped over to me and lifted me off my feet.
"Never say I'm not a traditionalist," he laughed, as he carried me over the threshold.
Epilogue
I sank back into the grass, spreading my legs so that he was pressed against me between my thighs. Logan growled softly into my mouth as he kissed me, his hunger for me palpable. God, I wanted him inside me.
We were on our honeymoon—Logan had suggested a trip to a luxury hotel in the big city, but I had waved his suggestion off with a frown. I'd had enough of luxury hotels for a lifetime. Instead, we packed up a couple of backpacks and Logan's trusty, beat-up old tent, and went hiking up into the mountains. We left Elise with James and Marie—the first time we'd ever been away from her, but I knew she was in great hands. Two days and two nights, just the two of us in the wilderness, with not another soul for miles upon miles.
Bliss.
My desire for him was a hot ember of need that threatened to burn a hole in me. I clawed my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, and started pulling at his shirt. He sat up and pulled it off for me, stretching his chiseled, hard, sweat-slicked body before me as he did. I reached out and scratched my fingertips down his grooved, hard abs, and he groaned when my fingers ended under the upper band of his jeans. I could already see him swelling under the fabric.
He looked down and watched my hands as I deftly unbuttoned and unzipped him with one hand. He didn’t have underwear on beneath them, and his cock sprang out, standing up proudly. I wrapped my fingers around the base of it and tugged up, watching Logan’s face for the flinch of pleasure that passed over his eyebrows.
He took my hand by the wrist and pulled me up so that he could relieve me of my shirt. His thick fingers searched my back, found my bra strap and then with a quick motion it was loose.
Logan tossed both articles aside, and pushed me back into the grass again, kissing me first on my lips, then my neck and collar, and then between my breasts. His lips and tongue found my hard nipple and swirled around it and I arched my back and ground my hips against his hard erection and let out an unselfconscious moan. Here, we could finally let loose after months of parenting, and I intended to.
His teeth nip
ped me, lightly at first, and then a little harder, the hint of pain mixing with his tongue’s flickering tickle just before he sucked, hard, and sent crackling waves of pleasure into my chest, up my neck, and down into my wet, quivering pussy. “Fuck me, Logan,” I moaned. “Please, fuck me again…”
He gave a growl around my nipple and switched to the other one. On the way, he muttered, “Not yet.”
A plaintive cry of excitement bubbled up from my chest as he worked the other nipple. His fingers slid down my bare stomach, dug beneath my jeans, found my wet slit and aching clit and slipped inside me, his thumb massaging the hot little nub in slow, wide circles. I moaned and clutched at his shoulders and shook from head to toe. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding on for dear life.
The two sensations fought for my attention and between them I was ripped apart and thrown into the hot wind of passion that had carried me up and away to some place I no longer recognized.
“Logan,” I sighed, again and again between cries of pleasure. I struggled once, trying to take the reins from him, but he only held me down and kept his slow, agonizing pace.
“Kiss me,” I begged him. He let my nipple go, for now, and did as I asked this time. I could barely keep my mouth engaged, though, as he seemed intent on distracting me with his hand in my jeans.
“You like that, huh?” he muttered against my lips. “You can be as loud as you want out here. Scream for me.”
He did something different, his thumb flicking and massaging my clit as his fingers curled inside me and hit me just right so that I did scream, a long, loud, high-pitched note. The sound echoed off the trees and the hills, and I thought he meant to shove me over the edge into orgasm then and there.
Logan chuckled into my mouth and kept it up, pausing for seconds at a time, and then starting in again, never long enough to make me come but just long enough to make me lose my mind all over again.
“Baby, please!” I wailed, desperate to come, craving the feeling of him inside me again; it was this far out of my grasp.
