by Stella Stone
With my fingers, I shove her panties to the side, gently slipping my finger up and down her center, swirling her clit to tease her a little. “Please, Sterling, fuck me,” she moans, her head falling back against the wall with a thud.
Guiding my cock against her entrance, I moan as I sink inside of her warm heat.
I’m addicted to her cunt—straight goddamn fucking addicted.
“Sterling,” she cries as I fuck her.
I slam inside of her, our bodies pounding against the wall with each thrust of my hips. Releasing her ass, I lift my arm and wrap my hand around the front of her throat. Her eyes slowly open and look directly at me.
“Tomorrow I’ll be fucking my wife,” I growl. “My goddamn queen.”
Her pussy clenches, fluttering around me and I know she’s close. I speed up my thrusts, for some reason wanting to come with her. Sliding my hand from her throat, I slip it between us and rub my thumb against her clit in hard, fast, circles.
“Oh my God,” she screams as her body starts to shake.
I pump into her a few more times, burying myself deep as I empty my balls inside of her sweet body. “Now, let’s go to our rehearsal dinner,” I grunt.
“I just need to clean up, then we can go,” she whimpers, brushing her lips against mine.
A smile plays on my lips and I shake my head. “I don’t think so, Tilly. You go to this rehearsal dinner, my ring on your finger, and my cum inside of your cunt.”
“You’re filthy,” she breathes.
“You’re mine,” I announce.
I watch as she bites the corner of her lip before releasing it and smiling. “You’re mine too, Sterling.”
I flex my hips, which causes her to groan. “I am.”
“I’ll be your good girl, then.”
Lowering my chin, I kiss her, tasting her lips before I let her go. “Let’s party,” I grunt.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TILLY
Thankfully nobody said anything to us about being late. I didn’t miss, both Natasha and Emmet’s sideways glance when we arrived. I know that I look freshly fucked, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
If they have something to say about my appearance, they can bring it up with their son. A man who refused to let me clean up, or even touchup my hair and makeup. Thankfully, they don’t say a word. Honestly, they’re too well bred and mannered for that, anyway.
The rehearsal dinner is at the club, and although I came here for brunch not too long ago, it’s been years since I’ve attended an evening party here. I don’t know how I feel about it, yet.
I keep getting glances from people who used to pretend to be my parent’s friends. But nobody has said a word to me. I’m arm candy for Sterling, a silent mannequin standing at his side.
It isn’t his fault that everybody who talks to him, only speaks about things that I cannot even really chime in on. Mostly, business related. I don’t really even know what Sterling does for a living. All I know is that he had enough cash to buy me, and he’s extremely successful—nothing more, nothing less.
“Tilly,” Aldrich calls out as soon as he’s close to our circle.
I give him a small wave and his lips curve into a kind smile. I let out a sigh of relief, happy to at least see a friendly face.
“Let me see it on your finger,” he demands. My eyes widen as he holds out his hand. I slip my palm in his and he looks down at my ring. “I told him it was you. Love it,” he winks.
“You helped?” I ask in awe.
Sterling slips his hand around my waist and tugs me even closer to his side. “He helped, a little,” he grunts.
Aldrich only chuckles, winking at me again. “Who is ready for the big day tomorrow?” he asks, looking over at the men who have kept Sterling talking for at least ten minutes.
“Oh yes, congratulations, Sterling,” one of them says dipping his chin.
“You remember, Tilly Harrington, don’t you?” Aldrich asks. “I think that it’s fantastic to have her back here again in our midst,” he shrugs.
The men fumble and bumble with their words, and I have to look down at my shoes to keep from laughing. They quickly make their exits and Aldrich only laughs. A second later, Bexley, Connery, and Whitaker are at our sides.
We spend the rest of the evening together, talking, eating and drinking. I don’t drink too much, knowing that tomorrow will be an early, and assuredly long day.
“Are you ready?” Bexley asks me, when the boys are all deep in conversation next to us.
My eyes find Sterling and I blush. “More than ready,” I admit.
“Do you think that Connery will ask me?” she asks.
I frown, looking over at Connery. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and he’s really concentrating on whatever they’re talking about. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about him,” I admit. “If you want to get married though, why don’t you talk to him?”
Bexley’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “I couldn’t, no way. We aren’t, our relationship isn’t like yours and Sterling’s,” she whispers.
I open my mouth to ask her what she means, but Sterling’s hand presses against my lower back, and his lips skim my neck. “Ready, pretty girl?” he rasps against my skin.
Nodding, I bite my bottom lip. I have to clench my thighs together when he calls me pretty girl, and he absolutely knows the affect it has on me. Which, is exactly why he does it. I give Bexley a hug, and wave goodbye to the rest of the guys, knowing that I’ll see them all tomorrow.
STERLING
Driving us home, I know that something is up with, Tilly. “Talk to me,” I demand.
She sighs, her head leaning against the back of the seat. She turns to face me and gives me a sad smile. “Bexley wants to get married, but she says her relationship with Connery isn’t like mine is with you. I don’t get it,” she shrugs.
“Their relationship is not our business,” I grunt as we drive home.
She exhales, “I know. I just feel badly for her. Obviously, this wasn’t the life she chose for herself, she just wants to be happy, and I can’t blame her,” she shrugs.
I think about her words, and give her a nod, as I pull into the garage. “You’re right, pretty girl. I see what you’re saying, but please, don’t get in the middle,” I rasp, cupping her cheek with my hand. “Connery isn’t a bad guy and maybe he just moves slower than me,” I wink.
“You did move fast,” she giggles.
“I’m a man who knows what I want, when I want it, and I’ll do anything to get it,” I growl, leaning forward and catching her bottom lip with my teeth, gently nipping her. “Now, go upstairs, take everything but your panties off,” I instruct.
She whimpers, lifting her hand to wrap around my wrist. “They’re still a mess,” she admits.
I squeeze my cock from the outside of my suit pants at her declaration. “I can’t wait to see just how messy they are, pretty girl.”
Releasing her face, I watch as she throws the car door open and then scurries into the house.
Tomorrow, I make her my wife.
Soon, she’ll be pregnant with my baby, I’m sure.
I can’t fucking wait.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
STERLING
Today is the day.
My father walks directly into my office, a frown marring his features before he sinks into the chair across from my desk.
Tilly is upstairs, with a hair person, a makeup artist, Bexley, and my mother. I got the fuck out of there as soon as there was mention of body tape and proper undergarments.
“Can I help you?” I ask when he just stares at me, his expression never wavering.
“You’re really doing this,” he barks.
I blink. “I thought you supported my decision?”
He clears his throat, shaking his head. “I want to. Goddammit, Sterling. Why like this?” he asks.
“Why like, what?”
He levels me with his gaze before he speaks. “
Why a girl in her position? Why not one of your own? There are hundreds of socialites, actresses, models, or hell even some CEO somewhere, a woman with high drive at something. Not some kid, whose parents lost everything because they flushed it down the fucking drain,” he growls.
Leaning back in my chair, I take a good look at my father. This is truly bothering him. “Tilly is mine, dad. I’m not changing my mind on this. There’s nobody else for me. I’m marrying her today, in the garden.”
“I just don’t want you to go through what I’ve gone through,” he murmurs. Lifting my brows, I wait for him to continue. “Your mother, she came from bad roots.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “Mom’s depression. I get that dad. Nobody wants to live like that, to see their spouse like that. I didn’t want to see my mother like that. However, Tilly isn’t mom. Her family is just fucking stupid. She’s a good person, you’ll see,” I smile.
“You’re my only son,” he rasps. “I don’t want you to regret anything in life. This seems too fast.”
Nodding, I stand. “I get it,” I murmur walking around my desk. “I hear your words but hear mine, as well. Tilly will be my wife by the end of today. She’ll be the mother of your grandchildren. She is mine. Nothing could change my mind about her. Nothing could keep me from taking my vows. There is nobody else for me, but her.”
My father rises to his feet, his eyes search mine and I see him resign. He nods. “You’re doing a prenup at least?” he sighs.
I chuckle. If he only knew. “No dad. I’m not.” He frowns, but I hold my hand up to keep him from speaking. “If she took me to the cleaners, at this point, I would fucking deserve it. If I was stupid enough to not see the real her, or if she’s a good enough actress to snowball me, then she deserves half of my assets,” I shrug.
A smile appears on my dad’s face and he reaches forward, clapping my shoulder with his hand. “You remind me too much of myself,” he chuckles. “Okay, I give. Marry the girl,” he winks.
“I think I just might,” I smirk.
He walks away, presumably to drink, heavily. My dad has waffled back and forth when it’s come to my nuptials with Tilly. I don’t blame him, really. I gave my parents all of a week to get used to the idea. I can’t really blame them for their concerns.
Before I can walk back to my desk, my office fills with my three best friends. Aldrich, Connery, and Whitaker walk in. They’re carrying booze, and glasses.
“A little card game, before the vows,” Whitaker announces, pulling a deck of cards out of his pocket.
Connery pulls the table out of the corner of the room, flipping the top off, to reveal the poker table below. “Fuck,” I moan, as I smile.
“You didn’t give us enough time for a bachelor party. We’re improvising,” Aldrich states.
We each pull up a chair as Whitaker begins shuffling the deck.
TILLY
“It fits like it was made specifically for you,” Natasha whispers.
I look back at her, and smile. She’s got tears in her eyes, that match my own. The dress, it’s perfect. Today has been perfect. I don’t know how my life ended up like a damn fairytale, but it did. I’m not going to question it, though. No way, in hell, not when what could have been a complete nightmare, turned into an absolute dream.
There’s a knock on the door and Bexley opens it, just a crack, talking to someone before she closes it. “The party planner says it’s time,” she grins.
Natasha is talking to the hair and makeup artist, then she makes her way over to me. “They’re going to give you one last touchup before you go. Are you sure you’re okay to do this alone?” she asks, her brows knitting together.
“I’m sure,” I nod.
I’m surprised when she reaches for me and gives me a hug. I return the gesture, closing my eyes. I’ve never had a genuine hug, not from a mother figure, or my own mother for that fact. This feels so good, and I hope that there will be more to come in the future.
“Okay now. I’ll see you out there,” she whispers.
I’m suddenly left alone with just the makeup artist and the hair dresser, both are eating a snack and not paying any attention to me. I look at myself one last time in the mirror.
Today, is the day.
My dress does fit perfectly to my body. My hair is a beautiful mass of loose curls, my makeup flawless. Today I’m going to walk into the gardens and marry the man of my dreams. He is too. He is the man of my dreams. He’s someone that I never thought I would have, and everything I had hoped for.
Pressing my hand to my stomach, I let out a breath.
“Are you ready?” the makeup artist asks.
I turn to her with a smile, and a nod.
“I am.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
STERLING
The music begins, and I watch as everybody takes their seats. Aldrich stands next to me as my best man. The rest of my friends are in the front row, on Tilly’s side.
I didn’t want sides, but according to my mother, and Darla the planner, you have to have them in order to have an aisle. I demanded that some of the people be funneled to Tilly’s side then, since we didn’t invite any of her family.
My mother and father walk down the aisle, and they both look calm, and my father even smiles at me. The photographer’s flash annoys me, but I try not to let it bother me too badly.
I then watch as Bexley walks toward me, stopping across from me. The entire world goes still, and silent, all at the same time for what feels like a long minute. Then, the bridal march begins.
Tilly is there. Wearing all white, her long blonde hair cascading in curls, and holding some flowers against her. I can’t look away from her big green eyes as she inches toward me.
My mouth is dry at the sight of her. If I thought she was beautiful before, nothing compares to the way she looks right now. All in white, headed toward me, to take me as her husband.
Her eyes water when she finally stands in front of me. Everything is a blur, the vows, the ceremony, all of it. Even the moment when we slip each other’s rings on, I just go through the motions. When the pastor pronounces us husband and wife, instructing that I can now kiss my bride, it breaks me out of my daze.
Reaching for Tilly, I tug her against me and I kiss her. It’s hard and passionate, and as much as I want to, I don’t use tongue. Later, I hold no promises though. I’ll be licking every fucking inch of her.
TILLY
Today has been no less than, magical. There’s really no other way to describe this day other than that—simple magic.
Sterling holds me tight against his chest while we dance, for the first time as husband and wife. He dips his chin, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but his lips move to my ear instead.
“I can’t wait to fuck you in this dress,” he rasps.
I shiver in his arms, which causes him to chuckle. “You’re going to sit on the edge of the bed and hike it as far up as you can. Then you’ll, take off your panties and spread your thighs as wide as you can,” he murmurs. I let out a whimper as my pussy throbs, imagining what’s going to happen soon. “You’re going to show me exactly what I bought, aren’t you pretty girl?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, Sterling,” I breathe.
“Good girl,” he grunts. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
He takes my hand in his and I let out a small giggle as he tugs me away from the dance floor. I don’t know where we’re going to go, the house and gardens have people milling everywhere enjoying the party. When he doesn’t guide us toward the house, but away, my curiosity is piqued.
“Sterling,” I call out, but he ignores me as his feet practically run, they’re moving so quickly. When we arrive at a small building, it looks kind of like a barn, I freeze. “Sterling?”
“It’s the storage shed and used to house the gardener back when there was a full-time position here,” he shrugs, twisting the knob and pushing the door open.
I take a step inside, s
quinting, “You do realize my dress is white, don’t you? I mean people will definitely notice if there are dirt stains when we get back.”
Sterling ignores me as he walks deeper into the small shack. I pick up my dress so that it doesn’t drag on the floor and follow him, closing and locking the door behind me when I do. We climb up the small staircase and step inside of a room—where I promptly freeze in place.
There is a bed in the center of an empty loft-type room. It has a white fluffy comforter, but that isn’t what has me frozen. There are dozens of candles putting off a soft glow stacked at different heights behind the bed, and what looks like millions of rose petals all over the ground.
I turn around to face him.
STERLING
Her eyes meet mine and I watch as tears form. I made the wedding planner set this up for me. She tried to argue that she didn’t have the time, or the resources. I gave her a handful of cash, and magically, it was completed.
“Now, show me what I bought,” I growl.
Her eyes widen, and a smirk appears on her lips. “Here I thought you were being romantic,” she muses, shaking her head as she walks over to the bed.
My cock hardens as she hitches her dress up and tugs her panties down before she sits on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t romantic?” I ask, tipping my head to the side.
Tilly bites on her bottom lip, her legs slowly spreading apart. I’m unable to keep my gaze away from her parting thighs. My cock hardens immediately, and when I see her pussy glistening in the candlelight I groan.
“Romance me, Sterling,” she pants.
I grin. “Not sure I know how, pretty girl.”
“You did all this,” she states waving a hand in the air, before she re-grips the hem of her dress.
Shaking my head, I grunt. “I didn’t, I paid someone to.”
“Still, it was a romantic gesture,” she whispers. “What do you want me to do, now?” she asks.
I think about her question. I’m not a romantic man, never had to be, but I want to do nice things for her. Maybe that means I’m only romantic for her? Or maybe it doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. Who the fuck knows? Right now, all I know is that I want that wet pussy I own, all over me.
