by Tess Summers
“Marry me, Kennedy Alicia Jones.”
Of course it wasn’t a question. She’d expect nothing less from him.
Keni knew if she answered, it would come out a sob, so she simply nodded her head.
He slid the diamond on her finger, kissing her mouth as he did.
“I love you,” she managed to whimper as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “So much.”
Dante rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you, too, Bella.”
They sat there momentarily, just being in the moment with each other until she could form words without squeaking them out.
“So, are you able to take a break?” she asked, sliding her hands from his neck and running her index finger suggestively over his chest.
With a smirk, he replied, “For my fiancée, I think that can be arranged.”
****
Dante
The wedding ceremony would be performed in the middle of estate, almost in the exact position where he’d tackled her when she tried to escape. The irony of the fact that he’d be marrying her on that spot wasn’t lost on him.
Fourteen months ago, he never could have predicted he’d have a wife with a baby on the way. Hell, even six months ago, when he’d been relentlessly searching for her with no luck, he wouldn’t have guessed it.
The circumstances of how she got pregnant still weighed on him. He often wondered if she would have returned to the estate if she hadn’t been pregnant—a concern he voiced on the eve of their wedding as they lounged on his office couch with her sprawled on top of him.
“Dante, I stayed in Mexico even when I didn’t know I was pregnant, with the intention of coming back. While the baby was a bit of a surprise, it wasn’t a big one, given that was your intention when I was locked in the dungeon, and I knew that was my most fertile time.”
“I’m sorry I did that,” he whispered.
Her smile was genuine when she entwined her fingers through his.
“I’m not. Not even a little. I’m marrying the love of my life tomorrow and in six months, I’m going to have his baby.”
He pulled her closer and growled, “And in two years, you’re going to have another one.”
With a slap to his shoulder, she chastised, “Whoa, slow down there, hombre. Let’s see how this labor goes before you go getting any ideas. You only get one free pass.”
“I don’t even deserve that—but I’m selfish, so I’ll take it.”
She situated herself so she was straddling him and started to grind her pussy on his cock, which was now erect under his trousers. She was wearing a skirt, and he lifted it to reveal pink satin and lace panties with a wet spot in the middle.
“Evil temptress,” he hissed as he tweaked her nipple. They’d agreed on no sex for the entire two weeks she’d been planning their wedding, and she had purposefully been trying to seduce him every night since they’d made the arrangement. “Why did you suggest it if you didn’t want to do it?” he scolded.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that it’s forbidden… I want you even more. Plus, I’m so horny it’s not funny.”
He tugged on her hips, pushing her pussy further down on his dick under his slacks, and sat up to gently bite her nipples over the fabric of her top.
She started to rock on his cock—he could feel how wet she was, even through the clothing barrier between them.
“Little one, I’m more than happy to break our pact, just say the word.”
That caused her to slow her grinding and groan loudly. With a sigh, she rolled off his lap and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
“Stop being so sexy,” she scolded.
Chuckling as he brought his feet to the floor, he replied, “I’ll work on that.”
She bent over, one hand on his knee and the other stroking him over his tented pants, and whispered, “I can’t wait for you to fuck me so hard tomorrow night.”
His smile was placating when he looked up at her. His days of fucking her rough and hard were on hold for a while.
With narrowed eyes, she stood up straight. “What?”
“I told you two weeks ago. I’m not fucking you hard with my baby inside you.”
“Oh my god, you are being ridiculous. The doctor said there are no limitations on our sex life. None.”
“Don’t care. Not risking it.”
“Auugh!” She stomped her foot with her hands clenched at her sides, then spun around and marched out.
He couldn’t help but chuckle as he called after her, “You’re adorable, Kennedy Jones!”
She reappeared in the doorway, glowering at him.
“I’ll show you adorable,” she said, then disappeared again.
“You just did,” he exclaimed, not sure if she was still within earshot.
He couldn’t wait to be naked with her again. Her American passport with her new name, Bella Rose Johnson, had arrived and he was taking her to Aruba for their honeymoon the day after they were married.
Now he stood impatiently on the lawn, dressed in his tuxedo, with Father Castellanos standing beside him. John was there too, along with his father, his uncle, Rosa, and Maria—all of them waiting for his Bella to appear at the end of the aisle. When she emerged on the walkway, it literally took his breath away. Her simple ivory-silk strapless dress fit her like a glove, highlighting her round hips and breasts, which were becoming more luscious by the week—and that was saying a lot, since they were pretty succulent to begin with. The gown draped elegantly around her ankles, with a modest train flowing behind her. Her hair, chestnut brown now, was curled and flowing above her shoulders, and his mother’s pearl choker highlighted her slender neck. She was absolutely stunning.
And she’s all mine.
He could finally breathe when she was standing next to him in front of the priest, and he leaned down to kiss her tenderly on the mouth. Kennedy’s hand snaked behind his head, her fingers digging into his hair, while his arm wrapped around her waist, his lips lingering on hers until Father Castallenos coughed.
They pulled apart, laughing, and Dante reached down to hold her hand, only letting go to exchange wedding bands.
This wedding was the one she had asked for, the one where they used her real name. He uttered Kennedy Alicia Jones reverently when he said his vows, her eyes watering as he made his promises to her from the heart. He’d never meant anything more than when he pledged to love, honor, and be faithful to her for the rest of his life.
How was this beautiful woman really his wife and carrying his baby?
****
Rosa and Maria had gone all out, making a beautiful six-course meal to celebrate, complete with a two-tier wedding cake decorated in pink frosting flowers. They toasted with champagne—and apple cider for the mama-to-be.
His father was enamored with her, despite her having murdered his brother. Dante suspected her carrying his future grandchild played a big role in that—along with the fact that his brother had been a tyrant. His uncle Ramon was equally smitten by her charms.
John pulled him aside after dinner, offering him a highball glass of Macallan Rare Cask whiskey on the rocks.
Offering his glass up in a toast, the American told him, “You two are perfect for each other. I couldn’t be happier for you. May you always be this happy together.”
Dante clinked his friend’s glass.
“Cheers. And thank you for being the best best friend a man could ask for. I am blessed that you are in my life. I love you like a brother.”
“Same here, man. I love you, too.”
The two man-hugged, complete with the obligatory two back slaps before pulling apart.
“Should we get back?” John gestured toward the dining room with his glass.
“Probably, before Ramon tries to run off with my bride.” Dante stopped and chuckled, shaking his head. “I have a bride.”
John slapped him hard on the back then clutched his shoulder, urging him forward. “And don’t
forget a baby. You’re going to be a dad.”
“Holy shit,” Dante muttered in disbelief.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch, my friend.”
The Mexican smiled thoughtfully when they reached the doorway to the room where everyone else was chatting, and watched Kennedy wistfully.
“I certainly am,” he murmured before moving to his wife’s side.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kennedy/Bella
She was in the kitchen laughing with Rosa and Maria, still in her wedding gown, when she glanced up and found him leaning against the doorjamb, his sleeves rolled up—one hand in his pocket, and one hand holding the end of his tuxedo jacket thrown over his shoulder. He was watching her with one corner of his mouth turned up, looking like a model straight out of GQ magazine.
“Mrs. Guzman,” was all he said. He held his hand out toward her, and she was instantly ready to climb him like a tree. This sexy man was her husband and baby daddy.
She said goodnight to the women, and sashayed toward him with a seductive smile.
“Mr. Guzman,” she answered, offering him her hand while looking up at him through her lashes.
They made it two steps from the kitchen before he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. Looking down at her, he tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Did I tell you how stunning you are in that dress?”
Kennedy shrugged her shoulders coyly as her toes curled.
“Yes, but you can tell me again.”
With his lips inches from hers, he whispered, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” then enveloped her mouth with his in a kiss so passionate it sent butterflies racing through her insides. She was instantly wet and filled with desire.
“Let’s go upstairs, husband,” she purred when they came up for air. She had plans for her groom on their wedding night.
“After you, wife.”
She gasped when they walked into the bedroom—candles filled the room, along with flowers and rose petals strewn across the floor and bed. In the sitting area, a bucket of sparkling cider sat chilling, two empty flutes on the coffee table between the two wingback chairs.
“Did you do all this?” she asked, whirling around with her arms stretched out in amazement.
“John helped.”
“It’s so romantic.” And not at all what she had originally planned. He’d been handling her with kid gloves since she told him she was pregnant; and frankly, she missed getting fucked into submission. Her intention had been to drive him crazy with desire until he couldn’t help but fuck her rough and hard. But this gesture was so sweet and romantic, she was quickly reconsidering her initial idea. Besides, there was always their honeymoon to carry out her plan.
She approached him with slow, deliberate steps, stopping a foot in front of him. Reaching behind her, she slid the zipper down until the dress pooled at her feet, leaving her bare breasts exposed, along with her white thigh stockings and garters. His eyes filled with desire while he drank in her naked body.
Stepping toward her, his hands skimmed her sides and settled on her hips as he whispered in awe, “Bella, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re my wife.”
Ever so gently, he kissed her. It was a sensuous tease that left her wanting more, and she fumbled to unbutton his starched white shirt. The man was perfection—defined abs and just the right amount of chest hair to make him masculine but not hairy. His body, coupled with the scent of his cologne, was sending her hormones into overdrive. With her fingers spread, she ran her hands over his core while kissing his chest.
Dante tilted her chin to capture her lips with his. As he deepened the kiss, she wound her arms around his neck, and he scooped her up to carry her to the bed. After setting her down softly, he removed the rest of his clothes and lay naked next to her, his hand protectively on her stomach.
He began kissing her shoulder, giving her little love bites as he worked down to her breasts. Cupping the right one in his hand, he swirled his tongue around her left nipple and then suckled—kneading her flesh in his other hand before popping her pink tip from his lips and moving to concentrate on her other tit.
Her husband took his time, obviously in no rush despite her lifting her hips in invitation. Finally, gloriously, his fingers starting tracing down her stomach. She reached for his cock to stroke, but Dante moved his hips so his dick was out of her reach.
“Why?” she whined. She wanted to feel his velvety soft rod in her hand.
“Soon, Bella. Let me focus on you right now.”
Who was she to argue?
Dante kissed her tummy, pausing to caress her baby bump and lay reverential kisses on it, before moving further down until he reached the apex between her legs. Once there, he licked down the crease of her thigh, ran his tongue from left to right along her pussy, and licked up the crease on the other side. His tease was deliciously torturous, and Kennedy could feel how soaked she was.
She felt him slide further down between her legs, like he was getting comfortable. Using both his hands, he spread her lips apart, then ran one finger up and down her folds.
“You’re so wet, Bella.”
“I want you, Dante. Please…”
He chuckled softly while he dipped his mouth closer to her sex. “Not yet,” he said, then swiped his flat tongue up her slit, making her initially jump, then move her head to the side and moan as she arched her back off the mattress.
“Fuuuuuck…”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, and began to work his tongue against her clit. He flicked it furiously at first, making her stomach clench and her body temperature rise, then the bastard slowed his pace and began to leisurely lick her labia up and down.
“You’re not supposed to torture your wife on her wedding night,” she panted in frustration, lifting her head to watch him smirk while he continued licking her like an ice cream cone.
“I’m not torturing my wife, I’m savoring her,” he corrected.
“No, you’re torturing me.”
He darted his tongue inside her, and she lifted her hips.
Pulling his head back and adjusting his hands to spread her open wider, he stared at her pink center while asking, “Do you want to come, little one?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. Fuck yes!
“Mmm, okay.” He attacked her clit in a frenzy with his tongue while sliding a finger in and out of her hole. Her entire body began to tighten, and her pussy gripped his finger until he could barely move it inside her.
“Come for me, Bella,” he demanded as he maintained his oral assault on her hooded knot.
Her orgasm started at her toes and crept up her body until it was racking every cell in her system. She shook and lurched before she started floating back down to Earth.
He tried sucking on her clit, but she furiously pushed his head away while attempting to close her legs.
“Oh my god,” she panted, glancing down at him wiping his face on the sheets with a satisfied smile before moving his body on top of hers.
Keni felt his cock line up against her entrance and, with one swift motion, he filled her pussy. They both moaned at the sensation as he pressed further until he was balls deep inside her. Dante began thrusting in and out, his rhythm steady against her still-sensitive clit.
He leaned down and sensually kissed her, their tongues tangling while she framed his handsome face in her hands. Her husband rested on his elbows, relaxed his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes, while he continued moving in and out of her.
“You feel so good, Bella. God, I love you.”
His arms encased her body, and he buried his face in her neck as he started to pump harder and faster into her pussy. It felt amazing, and she was soon on the precipice of another orgasm.
“Oh yes, baby,” she panted, her nails digging into his back. “Don’t stop.”
He started to grunt, his breathing labored while he pounded her.
“Yes, yes, yessssss!” she squ
ealed seconds before he thundered a long moan, and she felt rope after rope of his cum hit her walls while his thrusts became uncoordinated.
Clinging to him, she didn’t let him move from his position on top of her. She felt too warm and safe and didn’t want him to move. He didn’t seem to mind, hugging her upper body against his, while his face remained buried in her neck and his cock in her pussy.
Slowly, he began to soften, and he eventually slipped out of her womb, his cum spilling out and running down her thighs. Dante kissed her cheek before rolling off her, disappearing momentarily into the bathroom and returning with a towel, where he carefully tended to cleaning her up.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Mrs. Guzman.”
She sat up, drawing the covers to her chest.
“It’s my husband. He turns me on.”
That elicited a laugh as he slid in next to her and pulled her close.
“Get some rest. We’ve got to get up early for our flight.”
Seven glorious days in a bungalow on the beach with her husband’s undivided attention… she couldn’t wait.
****
Dante
They were wheels up for Aruba by eleven a.m. the next morning, he and Bella Johnson. He really needed to get in the habit of referring to her by her new last name. They’d decided the wedding ceremony was just for them, and the paperwork that was now safely in his vault reflected their real names. They’d have another one that they’d actually record with the government after enough time had passed that it wouldn’t rouse suspicion he had married someone other than Kennedy Jones.
But it really would be a lot easier when she was Bella Guzman, and he’d probably just call her that anyway. Especially this week, since they weren’t hiding that they were on their honeymoon. He was looking forward to seeing her relax and not be endlessly looking over her shoulder.
He asked John to make contact with the associates who’d brokered the exchange of Kennedy’s real name over a year ago. Dante wanted to know if the CIA had her listed as deceased or not. If they did, it would go a long way in alleviating her constant worry—and hopefully allow her to get out more. She was slowly becoming a pregnant hermit, and the light in her eyes was going out.
