He turned to Cora and winked. He gave her that he still held a little tug to assure her.
“I just learned that my sweet, wonderful, beautiful little wife prefers to go by the name of Cora. It’s kind of a silly story and one that we will keep between the two of us at least for now. So without further ado, I would to introduce all of you all to my new wife, Mrs. Charles Anthony Halverson. Cora.”
Everyone erupted in boisterous applause and whoops and hollers. There were a couple of cattle whistles in there too. Cora had had a raging crush on her new husband. Now she was certain she was head over heels in love with him.
He spoke to the musicians behind the call box and then offered her his arm. “Mrs. Halverson, will you dance with me?”
The crowd cleared. They looked with smiles as Charlie danced her slowly around the middle of the floor. Cora’s heart was brimming. It flowed over in delicate tears of relief and of love.
“I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look,” he said softly.
The hunter’s look in his eyes went straight to her belly. She was filled with warmth and aching for him. She had the strong desire to lay back and offer herself to him.
“You are very handsome,” she had the courage to say. “So handsome.”
She was done in by her own words. The mere mention of how attracted she was to him flooded her with arousal and she teetered. She could feel the feeling rise to her face. She had to have an expression. It made her feel sort of bewildered.
He smiled softly at her. “Am I now?” he asked rhetorically. “I am pleased that you think so.”
“I am pleased I think so to,” she said without thinking.
When she realized she had said that out loud, she held her fingers to her surprised mouth. He let go a full laugh. He stopped the dance to pull her close to him. To wrap her into his massive arms, against his rock hard chest and laugh.
“I think we’re going to be happy, Cora,” he said.
“I think we already are,” she replied.
Chapter Ten
The guests left finally at the stroke of midnight. Charlie decided that was the perfect time to call it a night. His employees cleaned up just enough before he dismissed them to. And when he and Cora were alone, he swept her up in his massive arms and dashed up the winding stairs.
He practically tossed her on the massive Eiderdown mattress in their master bedroom. They both worked furiously to free her from the imprisoning party dress. He finally unfastened all the hooks that ran up the back of her dress.
“You’re wearing sack frocks from now on. A man could die trying to hold his wife,” he complained.
He peeled off the dress. He regarded her with the strangest expression. It was pained and tormented. Cora understood it completely.
“You are so beautiful,” he remarked, trailing his hand along the corseted lines of her body.
He tweezed her nipple, peaking over the cup of her corset. Cora lurched; the pleasure went straight between her legs.
“Cora,” he whispered.
He hovered over her as she lay flat on the bed. She looked up at him.
“I’ve been wrong,” he said. “I punished you for keeping a secret from me and now I have one for you. I cannot take you until I tell on myself if you will have me after that.”
Cora was afraid.
“What?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “I got some unsubstantiated word about your sister. That she had passed. That’s why I didn’t show. I was there in town just as a coincidence. The driver of the coach came and fetched me.
But when I saw you and saw that you matched her description in every way I figured I had been mistaken. The person giving me the news made me pay for it that’s why I was a bit skeptical. I was way hard on you. I am so sorry –”
She could see that it pained him to say out loud what he had done.
“This is our wedding night, Charlie Halverson. Let’s celebrate our new life together,” she said.
Charlie stood like a mountain out of the earth and took off his clothes. Cora rolled over so that he could unlace her.
“Oh my goodness, that feels so much better,” she exclaimed.
“I’m going to forbid you to wear these things too. Maybe,” he growled.
And while she was on her belly, he got behind her. He drew her back against him. He reached around in between her legs and toyed with her there. Cora lifted her thigh and rested it up and on his. She felt so delicate against his large brawny frame.
He cupped her breasts as he pushed his rigid erection into her. He was tender for she was sore from the night before. But she was wet and ready for him. She had gotten herself all worked up by thinking about him during the whole day.
He encouraged her to fan her thigh, up and down as he moved in and out of her. He was a brilliant lover for that indeed made her pleasure stronger. He pressed his mouth to the ticklish base of her neck, toying with her with the devilish tip of his tongue. She whimpered with the pleasure of it. She did not hold back. She cried out with the pleasure he gave her.
“Mmm,” he purred. He moved his mouth to her earth and pleasured her there.
Cora arched down against him. Driven by timeless instinct, she rocked against him in wild rhythm, chasing the ecstasy that was building within her.
“Let it come baby,” he encouraged her. “Let it come.”
His voice was an aphrodisiac to her and it was her response to it that pushed her over the edge. She tumbled into a canyon of rapture. Her body spasmed with the pureness of it. No part of her was spared. It pushed out through the top of her head out through her toes. She was a tingling, quivering mass and still he drove into her.
Charlie wound her round him, while staying inside. He coaxed her to her back. He brushed the hair away from her face and looked deep into her eyes. She was helplessly bathed in ecstasy. She felt him tense. His head tilted up and his eyes fluttered. He was finding his pleasure too. He was like a magnificent beast.
He roared as his pleasure hit. It was so magnificent. So perfect. Cora loved him completely. He crumpled onto the bed, spent. He took her into her arms and held her the whole night though. He loved her twice more before dawn. Charlie loved her completely too.
The BBW MILF Gets Taken Rough
By: Olivia A. Raine
The BBW MILF Gets Taken Rough
©Olivia A. Raine, 2016 – All rights reserved
Published by Steamy Reads4U
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Warning
This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.
If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.
Chapter One
Mrs. Danielle Malone was devastated. She’s in the front row, a black net veiling her eyes as she wept. It was so sudden. Jerry had been her rock. And now he was gone. When they first dated, folks sneered, saying she was dating him only for his money. What did a twenty-eight year old woman want with a fifty-two year old man?
Now, three years later, as people finally accepted them as a couple, Jerry dropped dead. He just collapsed. He left most of his estate to his son, Rich
ie, which was fine with her because he was a boy -- well a young man now of nineteen -- and he had college ahead of him. Jerry left Danielle well taken care of. Besides she had her own business. An organics skin care products. Most of her clients were masseuses.
Life was good in so many ways. Danielle was young, beautiful, and rich. She lived in a beautiful, sweeping ranch house in a development with rambling lots separated by equestrian fences. She was avid rider. Jerry built a small horse barn for her and she had one thoroughbred and one warm blood in the stalls. She was such a lucky woman.
But she was alone. Heartbroken. The love of her life was now gone. She sat next to Richie who was just as torn up about the loss of Jerry as she was. Jerry was his hero. The two would occasionally take the other’s hand and just hold on for dear life. This was hard. But they would get through it together. They were all each other had.
After the funeral, after the wake, Danielle nodded on the sofa. She was awakened by the soft sound of laughter outside the house. It was dark outside. No telling how long she had been asleep. It was the first sleep she remembered having since Jerry died. It would be a long time before that happened again.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning. Richie was outside with his friends and apparently sharing some good times. But she needed to try to go to sleep. He must have thinking the same thing for no sooner had she thought about asking him to wrap it up did she hear a car loading up and driving out. Richie stepped inside the entry way.
“Hey there,” he said.
Richie was the kid and here he was taking care of her. She could hear it in his voice.
“What are you still doing up?” he asked.
“Same as you,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“I think this might be the first funeral that I’ve been to where I didn’t sneak a little alcohol,” he said.
“Yeah this attending funerals sober thing is for the birds,” she teased.
Richie was such a sweet kid but in so many ways he was already such a man. He was definitely his father’s son. He looked a lot like Jerry. He was tall and lean. And while his dad never had an ounce of fat on him and it was obvious where Richie got his amazing looks from, Richie definitely had a young man’s body.
He had changed out of his funeral attire and even his wake attire. He was hanging out with his friends in a tank top and shorts. The tank top’s arm holes were gaping and when he moved a certain way, Danielle had a clear shot of his magnificent torso.
Richie poured them each a drink -- just one -- a couple of Black Russians, his father’s favorite drink. The drink was deceptive so both of them knew enough to sip. Danielle did not want to get sick on top of grief and sleeplessness.
The sugary drink was so smooth. So cold. The Kahlua was like dessert. It literally hit the spot because she hadn’t eaten all day. It was light on her body and gave her a calorie boost.
“What are you thinkin’?” Richie asked softly as he huddled up against her.
Poor guy, thought Danielle. Amazing young man. Always in such good spirits. His mother ran off and left him when he was eleven. Now Jerry had been cautious when the he and Danielle got together. She and Richie always hit it off right away. They had always been more like buddies.
As they sipped the sweet, delicious liquor, Danielle was acutely aware of the way he felt as he brushed up against her when he moved. He was sitting so close to her, cozying up to her. Each time his firm young body grazed hers, waves of erotic electricity pulsed through her. The wires of arousal go right to her core and makes her wet; goes right to her nipples and made them hard.
She is afraid he will detect them through her flimsy blouse. She hunched a little bit, cloaked her excitement with her forearms but that made her neckline bell out. If she could see right down her shirt so could he.
“You did an amazing job with all of this,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I couldn’t do it without you,” she replied.
She leaned into him. He had his big paw around her shoulder. Danielle felt so safe and secure and comfortable. His body was so warm. Despite the bouts of insomnia since the death of her husband, she had the thought that she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping on him. She would sleep a deep luscious sleep. He grounded her.
And on that note, Danielle set her drink down. She rose to her feet. It was time to go to bed. Her head started to foray into dangerous places. She had to move past the surrealism of being a hot young widow, lest she change the description of her relationship with her hot young stepson.
Chapter Two
“I’ll lock up,” said Richie. “But I think I may be up for a while. Let me know if the TV bothers you.”
He collected the drinks and set them in the sink. Danielle padded into the master bedroom. The big, sprawling bed that she and Jerry slept was tightly made. So neat. Danielle could not quite bring herself to sleep on the bed. It was a such a comfortable bed and yet as she approached it, it was as though there were an invisible force field between her and the bed. She couldn’t do it.
She lit candles in the room, stripped down naked and drew herself a bath. She was exhausted but knew it now, she would not be sleeping well that night. She laid down in the bath tub and let the warm water cradle her.
She had carried a candle into the bathroom and focused on its flickering flame. At some point she did manage to fall asleep. She awoke the second time that evening. Richie was blowing out the candle. It had burned down to just the wick and the last bit of wax.
“Hey,” he said, not apparently reacting to the fact she was buck naked, “time to go bed.”
He went into the bedroom. She heard him pull back the bedcovers. He reappeared and released the tub water. He helped to her feet and wrapped her with the towel. He lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
She didn’t let him know of her aversion to the bed. She let him tuck her in. He sweetly drew the covers up around her. He rubbed her back as she played possum, trying to drift off. The trick worked. She managed to string together a couple of hours of solid sleep and in the master bed even.
He had removed the towel once he placed her in the bed, so she slept nude against the soft sheets. It was so luxurious. She stretched and rolled and knocked up against him. A jolt of surprise threw open her eyes. Richie had fallen asleep next to her. He slept on top of the comforter but pulled the edge of the blanket on his side, up and over him.
Danielle spied the towel draped over the chair adjacent to the bed. She snagged it to wrap herself up in and stole over to her dresser for some real clothes. Richie stirred.
“Morning,” he murmured lazily.
Danielle spied at him over her shoulder. He had rich tousled curls that framed his face like Adonis. He stretched his magnificent body like a contented cat. Well at least he wasn’t too uncomfortable sleeping the way he did. But it was definitely awkward waking up to him the way she did. She snuck into the bathroom and dressed.
The only thing she could grab in a hurry were a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. They worked. She knotted her shirt up at her rib cage to compensate for the fact that she was not wearing a bra. She did not have large breasts; but she thought they were perfect all the same. She tiptoed into the kitchen to start the coffee. Entering the kitchen, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee rolled up to her. Richie had set up the coffee to automatically brew for her. She poured herself a cup.
Richie was right behind her. He rose up behind her like a welcomed shadow. She wondered if he could see her smile. He was clad only in a pair of shorts. His sweet, young chiseled chest was bare for her to secretly enjoy. He reached for a mug. Danielle chuckled.
“And since when did you start drinking coffee, mister?” she playfully scolded.
“Uh, since Lacrosse,” he answered in kind. “Getting up at ungodly hours to get her done takes a little help.”
“So like when?” she asked.
Danielle was completely unaware a
bout this fact about her stepson.
“Like tenth grade? Dad made it for me,” he replied.
“I guess that answers my next question,” she shook her head.
The fact that Jerry had made Richie coffee secretly made her love them more. Richie knew she was not annoyed.
Richie towered over her. He mussed her head like she was one of his pals and then, as she had been loitering by the coffee pot, he simply encased her with his body as he fixed his coffee. If Danielle turned around he would basically be embracing her. She really liked the feel of his body.
She ducked under his arm and waded out to the sun room. It was such a lovely room, nothing but windows from chair-level up. It was just the right coolness in the summer and just the right warmth in winter. The slight chill of the slate floors were soothing to Danielle’s bare feet. She curled up on the wicker furniture and despite the summer time, drew an afghan over her ankles. She sipped her coffee. She had added milk and sugar. It was delicious and perfect.
Richie brought his coffee out. Danielle spied to see what he would drink. If he would drink it black or if he would doctor it with sugar like she did. He looked adorable with his scruffy hair. She had the strongest urge to run her fingers through it. He sat in his chair sideways, draping it with his legs over the arms. He held his mug like he was holding a cup of soup.
“You probably should go back to bed,” said Danielle. “You were up awfully late last night.”
“I know right? Coffee is probably the last thing we should be drinking. But it sure is good,” he said.
“It is. Thanks for fixing it,” she said. “So I was thinking we should move forward with getting you to school. Let’s work on a punch list of all the things we need to put in order to get you ready to go.”
“I don’t want to worry about that now. I can take a semester off. It won’t matter,” he said.
The Outlaw Biker's Betrayal: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 22
