by K. Webster
“I want you to whip me and fuck me and own my body! Take me, Alcott. When I’m around you, you distract me with everything that is you. I crave you every second I am away from you. You’re addicting, and I’ll never be satisfied. Please,” I beg.
He whips me again, this time hard enough for me to cry out. But the moment his hand slips between my legs, my eyes roll back in bliss. After his finger enters me, he prods me with expert precision.
“So wet,” he coos. “I could do this all evening long, but you know I really want my cock there—stretching you with my thickness. Beg me some more, Ella. I’m not done punishing you for being such a wicked woman.”
“Please,” I whimper, “Your teasing is pushing me to the brink of madness. I’m sorry I came here tonight. But right now, I don’t care at all about any of it. I simply want you.”
Groaning in approval, he slips his finger out of me. I mewl in a needy way as he drags the tip of his cock between the cheeks of my arse.
“Do it now,” I urge him as I look over my shoulder at him. I make my point by spreading my legs as far as my trousers at my ankles will allow.
Our eyes meet, and the reason we got into this dank washroom notwithstanding, we’re both on the same level of need for the other. His dark eyes shine with love and the desire to possess my body. I hope that mine mirror the same love and desire to be taken without hesitation.
His fingers tangle into my hair again and he holds me so I cannot look away from him—not that I would want to. I’ll always want to look at this handsome man. He’s alluring with his strong jaw and scruffy face—purely delectable with his full, soft lips and piercing, brown eyes.
“Ah!” I cry out as he enters me without warning. My body easily accepts every inch of his cock, and his thrusting begins with haste. When his testicles slap against my clitoris with each pound into me, I lose all sense of reality and my knees shake.
“So perfect. You’re so utterly perfect. I’m going to marry you and spend my whole life making sweet love to you,” he murmurs in the softest tone.
“Kiss me.”
His thrusting halts as he heeds my wishes and kisses me hard against my swollen lips. I want to continue kissing him, but my release is so close. He seems to sense this and wrenches his mouth away from me before he continues his unrelenting pounding into me.
“Come for me baby,” he urges. “I want the juices of your orgasm all over my cock.”
When his arm wraps around my front and slips under the waistcoat, I whimper. The moment he pinches my nipple through my dress shirt, I lose it. My flesh erupts with a fever only his love can evoke, and I shudder with my climax.
“Alcott!” I cry out as I come.
“Mine, darling. All mine,” he says fiercely as he holds me against him, pumping his own hot orgasm into me.
My knees have long since buckled, but my Alcott holds me steadfast and firm. It portrays our relationship, being that he is the strong force that keeps me safe and grounded no matter how shaky the earth beneath me is.
“I have you, angel. I will always have you.”
THE WOMAN WENT AND lost her damn mind. Last night, when she showed up at the pub dressed in Gerald’s clothes, I was livid. Fucking livid. But the fire in her blue eyes in combination with her sexy new hair had my cock at full mast and eager to be inside her.
How could she have gotten any more exquisite?
Now, as she sleeps—not a façade this time—I drag my finger down her bare spine. With this haircut, I have better access to her neck and back. Last night, I marked her neck up with my mouth knowing she didn’t have any hair to hide it. I bruised her flesh by my intense sucking while I made love to her in this very bed.
God, I love her.
“Wake up, darling,” I murmur before I kiss her shoulder blade.
She moans in protest but rolls over onto her back. Dipping down, I place a kiss on her nipple. The pale flesh around the pink circle invites me to color it up as well—like her skin was made for me to taste and tease.
“Do we have to leave so soon?” she questions, her voice still thick with sleep.
I flick my tongue out and taste her pebbled nipple while I stare up at her. “Uhhhuhh.”
She giggles, which does magical things to my cock. “And here I thought we had time to make love once more before our long journey to Havering,” she teases.
After popping off her tit, I don’t hesitate to spread her legs open, climb on top of her, and attack her mouth with mine. “We always have time for making love, darling,” I growl as I grab my cock and push it into her wet opening.
My girl is always so fucking wet for me.
“Oh, yes, Alcott,” she purrs as I pound into her.
Her body is always tight—a perfect fit—each time we have sex. I can’t get enough of this woman. She is my everything. I knew it the very first moment I laid eyes on her.
Lifting up as I thrust so I can see her pretty, blue eyes, I tell her, “I love you.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and she smiles beautifully at me. “Alcott, I love you too. You were the prince who came to save me. And I your distressed damsel.”
I chuckle at her and peck her nose. “You were distressed, all right. However, the damsel part is questionable,” I tease as I run my fingers through her hair.
She sticks her tongue out at me, which I steal way. And several intense moments later, we’re spent and relaxed, conjoined and sated.
“Will your mother like me as your wife?” she asks. Her thumb runs over my bottom lip, and I have the urge to bite it.
“Yes, darling. There isn’t one single thing not to love about you.”
And that’s the goddamned truth.
Ella is imperfectly perfect.
“Are you sure you don’t want to pack any of Elisabeth’s clothes?”
Ella scrunches her nose up, worry that I will disapprove etched on her face. “No, I packed some things Gerald no longer uses.”
Once we arrive back to Havering, I am going to have Mother sew her some feminine trousers and dress shirts fitting for a woman. The fact that she refuses to wear dresses after her ordeal is understandable, but I am not sure how much longer I can stand her wearing the old man’s clothes.
“Do not worry, angel.” I flash her a comforting grin. “I was only wondering before I snapped our suitcase closed.”
Her smile is one of appreciation that I understand her and her needs. I hope she knows I would do everything in my power to make her happy. Even if that means becoming the laughingstock of Havering at being the only man married to a woman who prefers dressing as a male.
We’ve had our lunch and are about to load the coach to leave when an urgent knock pounds on the other side of our bedroom door. Ella peers at me with furrowed eyebrows, but I shrug as I stride over to the door. Upon opening it, I see a frantic Gretchen on the other side.
“Mr. Dumont, it’s Gerald. I heard a commotion, and he’s in the study with three men. At first, there was shouting and then breaking glass. I’m afraid something has happened to him,” she sobs.
I snap my head over to Ella. “Stay here.” Then I push past Gretchen, storming toward the study on the other end of the massive estate.
Last night, he invited the men over under the ruse that Lord Thomas wanted to meet with them to discuss a deal to make their boss not ever bother Ella or this family again. Of course the money-hungry men were more than eager to begin dialogues before Caulder arrived in town because Gerald dangled empty promises at them—told them that working for Lord Thomas pays double what they make with Caulder. The greedy bastards were more than happy to “converse” their options before their boss had a say in the matter.
Gerald promised me he had a plan and told me not to worry.
Now, I’m fucking worried.
I’m a fool for having believed that the old man could handle the men alone.
As I near the study, small noises come from behind the thick door—noises that indicate that someone is insi
de. However, there is no talking or shouting or any signs of a struggle. Dear lord, I hope he is okay.
I’ll need a weapon, but I foolishly ran over here without grabbing one. I am with luck though, as I discover a thick, metal chamberstick on a nearby table. Upon ridding it of the candle, I grip it tight and prepare myself to swing at whomever is on the other side of the door.
With a deep breath, I push through the door and quickly take the scene in.
Two men from the pub plus one other.
Broken glass.
Old man leaned against the desk, drinking whisky.
Our eyes meet, and he nods his head at me.
“Alcott.”
“You wily arse!” I laugh. “How in the hell did you manage to take three of these big bastards down?” I’m fucking astonished as hell.
He smirks at me. Smug fucker. “Strychnine. I offered them a drink while I fetched Lord Thomas.”
Poison.
“I did not give you enough credit, I’m afraid,” I chuckle. “Too bad for them Lord Thomas was never coming.”
Gerald shakes his head and smiles. “It was a quick death. They’re already frolicking in the afterlife of Hell. I wouldn’t waste your worries on these two. Pritchard is going to help me bury them out back.”
I raise an eyebrow at the mention of Pritchard. The old fart mostly drives the coaches for Jasper and sometimes helps around the estate. However, I never saw him as an accomplice to murdering henchmen.
“You continue to surprise me, old man. Where in the hell did you come by poison on such short notice?”
He shrugs. “You know the fenced-off portion within the garden?”
I nod.
“Do not ever go back there, son, for it is a very dangerous place to be. The Strychnos nux-vomica tree is the most dangerous of the lot,” he say gruffly, “and a smart man always keeps a vial of deadly poison ready for emergencies.”
I smirk at him. “I see that Jasper keeps you around for more than just carrying luggage.”
He smiles. “Indeed he does, Alcott. Indeed he does.”
“Darling, are you ready?” I ask as I pick the suitcase up.
“I am. I shall miss this home, but I do look forward to seeing my sisters and your family. This journey to Havering will be the first of many, I hope,” she says wistfully. “It is my wish to travel and see things, Alcott. How wonderful would it be to climb the mountains in the Alps or to see The Eiffel Tower they have begun construction on in France? Even better, how lovely would it be to sink our toes into the sand on the beaches in the Mediterranean? Or have a stiff drink in an Irish pub? Or learn beautiful Spanish dances in Madrid?”
I walk over to her and plant a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m just a silly girl who dreams a lot,” she laughs.
However, I don’t miss the longing in her voice. My sweet little Ella wasn’t born to stay caged up. No, my beautiful bird was meant to fly free.
I shall always give that to her.
“Well, silly girl,” I chuckle as I open the front door for her, “I will make all of your dreams come true and more.”
She flashes me the happiest of grins over her shoulder as she steps out of the threshold.
And then my world freezes.
My beautiful bird has just been captured.
All I see is a glimpse of inky curls on a man before he twists my future wife in his arms with her back against his chest and a blade at her throat.
“Let her go, Caulder,” I snarl. I’ve never seen the man, but I already know he is who has come for retribution.
The suitcase has long been dropped and both of us men are glaring at one another.
“She belongs to me, you fool. Clearly, William could not handle the task. I, on the other hand, am more than up for the challenge,” he snaps. “And she is quite a challenge.”
Ella squirms in his arms, but he only tightens his grip on her. My eyes find hers, and I expect to see terror or fear or something indicating that she is afraid for her life. Instead, I see fury and hate and determination all rolled into one.
This angel has been waiting for this moment for nearly a fortnight. If I could save her from this time, I would. But we both know she’ll save herself. Even with the figure approaching behind them, I know she will finish the job.
A crackle of a leaf underfoot alerts Caulder to Pritchard’s sudden appearance. It is enough of a distraction for Caulder to whip his knife away from her neck and toward his attacker.
“Halt right there!”
I should charge for them.
I should save my woman.
But when I see the flash of metal as she draws that wicked knife of hers from her belt, I hold steady. With an elegant twist of her body, she angles herself away from Caulder. However, before she fully spins away, she slashes her knife across his neck and gracefully leaps away.
The man never saw it coming.
His own knife falls to the earth while he fiercely clutches his gushing neck. I can see his wild eyes flitting about as he attempts to understand what happened but coming up short with answers. Within seconds, he falls to his knees and then face first into the dirt.
An event that only took seconds to play out felt like eons.
“Ella,” I rasp out, still in shock from what I witnessed.
Her willowy figure strides over to me. When she wraps her slender arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my firm chest, I squeeze her to me.
“I was afraid I was going to lose you,” I choke out, desperately trying to keep womanly tears from forming. But by God, I almost lost her.
She lifts her head toward mine and presses a kiss to my lips. “But you just found me, Alcott. I am not going anywhere without you.” A single tear rolls out, and her lip wobbles. My sweet girl is struggling to keep it together, but she’s brave and fucking strong as hell.
My palms find her cheeks, and I deepen our kiss as I swipe more tears away with my thumbs. I need to attach my soul to hers so that she never leaves my side. And when her knees buckle, I gather her into my arms.
“I shall never let you go, dear Ella. You don’t have to be so strong now. I will be strong for you until the day I die,” I vow in a whisper against her hair.
She sobs for a moment, but eventually, her body straightens as she finds that inner strength that is so awe inspiring. This woman will be more than fine.
“I love you, angel,” I growl between kisses, “but remind me never to irritate you.”
My attempt to lighten the somber mood produces a fit of teary giggles from her that fill my heart with joy.
She tugs away and narrows her red eyes at me, her tears finally drying. “I think it will be good for our marriage for you to have a little fear of your dear wife. It shall keep you always doting and on your toes.”
My future winks at me as she pulls away to lift the suitcase. And while she bends over, I admire her arse in the trousers—they certainly look a hell of lot better on her than they do on Gerald.
“You are slightly unhinged, woman. You know that, right?”
She smirks as she regards me. “I will agree to slightly. Now, let’s make haste to Havering. I’m ready to become Mrs. Dumont and am way past waiting another minute.”
I watch proudly as my sassy fiancée provocatively sways her hips as she saunters past Pritchard, who is now dragging Caulder’s body behind a bush. In a brave manner, she lifts her chin in the air, and the wind swirls around her—it is almost as if she draws strength from it. Her adorable, blond hair blows wild around her, and I can’t help but notice that she seems free.
My angel.
My beautiful bird.
She’s innocent again and very much free. As she was born to be.
Four years later
WE’VE JUST RETURNED TO Havering after a year of traveling all over Europe. I already miss sampling the different cultures, but I am glad to be back home. It has been far too long since I have seen my sisters and their families.
“Are yo
u still exhausted, darling?” Alcott questions from the doorway.
I roll over to face him. My husband is quite delectable in his suit. While we traveled, he dressed casually as I did. I’m not sure he even packed a waistcoat for our journey. But now, seeing him in handsome attire, my skin prickles with heat.
He reminds me of when we first met—when he was sinfully beautiful and I was hopelessly smitten with him. Not much has changed though. After four years together, I couldn’t be happier.
Well, I could be happier. In fact, I want to share a little happiness with my husband.
“I am quite tired. How are my sisters and the kids? Will you tell them I shall see them at dinner?” I question before I go forth with what I really have to say.
He smiles longingly. “Edith was chastising Xander for throwing lemons at his sister, Lorelei. Gus and Charles were encouraging their cousin as usual. They miss their aunty but know you’re still tired.”
“Alcott,” I sigh, “I’m sorry that I haven’t given you a child as of yet.” Even though I am happy to be home, my emotions get the best of me and my eyes fill with unshed tears.
His smile falls and he stalks over to me almost angrily. “Darling, that is not your fault and you know it. The time wasn’t right. We, too, shall have our chance.”
My heart flops around in my chest like a fish on the embankment of the river at his words. He toes his shoes off and crawls into the bed behind me. When he drapes a hand over my middle, I sigh. No matter how many countries we visited or unusual places we had to sleep overnight, one thing remained the same.
Alcott always held on to me as if I might fly off in the middle of the night.
Despite his worry, I would never leave his side. He may think I’m some bird hating the cage. However, as long as he’s a bird too and we’re together in this cage of life, I could not ask for more.
He will always be the sky to which I soar.
“I have not been plagued with menstruation for two months now,” I admit softly.
His large hand slips over my belly and splays over my pudgy flesh there. I can feel his entire body go tense with hope, which matches the way I feel.
