Saving His Runaway Bride (Dark Embrace Book 2)

by Sue Lyndon

  Luke removes his shirt, pants, and underthings in a flash, stripping while I watch breathlessly from the bed. God, he’s magnificent. A dark spattering of hair covers his muscled chest, and his powerful biceps and forearms ripple as he moves toward me. I gulp and scoot against the headboard when my gaze falls to his massive, erect cock.

  I’ve heard whisperings about what a man’s appendage looks like and had an idea of what to expect, but seeing his length and girth so up close puts a knot of fear in my stomach. The two fingers he inserted in my pussy had been a bit much. How could his large manhood possibly fit?

  He strokes his length, his eyes gleaming darker, almost black. “Get back into place, wife, and spread your legs.”

  With trembling limbs, I manage to obey his sharp command and arrange myself on the bed to his liking. It seems odd to spread my legs when I’m still wearing my lace-trimmed and beribboned underthings, but I part my thighs and bend my knees slightly. All the while, I fight the urge to cover my naked, aching breasts. I keep my hands at my sides, thinking Luke wouldn’t approve of the show of modesty in our marriage bed.

  No lanterns are lit in the room, but the curtains are parted enough to allow the morning sun to illuminate the large space. I wish for more darkness and eye the nearest window longingly, as if I can will the curtains closed with a trick of the mind.

  “You look lovely with the sun spilling across your creamy flesh.” Luke sits next to me and places a hand between my spread thighs. “My my, little wife. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaking through your underthings. So, so naughty.”

  I cover my face and shudder. “Please.” Please stop touching me. Please keep touching me. Please please please. Confusion swirls through me as my desire grows, and in moments Luke has me humping his hand. He’s slipped inside to explore my wetness and applies the perfect amount of pressure to my needy clit. I throb and swelter for him. Uncovering my face, I toss my head from side to side as my desperation spirals out of control. So much for hiding my wantonness.

  The sound of tearing fabric fills the room. I glance down over my breasts and the expanse of my flat stomach to witness Luke ripping my delicate underthings off.

  “These were very pretty,” he says, tossing the remnants of fabric to the floor, “but you won’t be wearing anything underneath your dresses in the future. A corset is fine when a particular dress requires it, but you are never to don any sort of panties. Do you understand, Nora?”

  “Yes, sir, Luke.”

  His head dips lower, his hot breath wafting upon my smooth-shaven folds. “I want to be able flip up your skirts and drive my cock straight into your little cunny without any hindrance.”

  Waves of ecstasy shoot through me while he explores my intimate folds. His tongue dances up and down my slit, until he splays my nether lips wide apart, exposing my clit to his ministrations. He licks me, swirling around my most sensitive spot. Oh God.

  I grasp his head, weaving my fingers through his short dark locks, and undulate my hips against his mouth. Several unladylike curses earn me a series of slaps to my inner thighs, but when he finishes meting out this punishment, he goes right back to lapping at my pussy. It’s then that I notice a small box on the bed, an arm’s reach from Luke.

  “Oh, Luke, I don’t have a wedding present for you. I’m sorry.”

  He chuckles against my mons and sits back, wiping his mouth on his forearm. He picks up the box and flips the lid open. “This isn’t a wedding present.” A mocking smile crosses his features, making him appear younger than his thirtysome years. “It’s a plug, Nora. A small one, perfect for beginners.”

  The light winks off the metal surface of the miniature phallus-shaped object. I stare at it for a moment before understanding dawns. I feel relief and give Luke a tiny smile. “That’s very sweet of you to use that on me before your cock, to get me ready. Your cock is, um, huge, so thank you.”

  He withdraws a little container from the same box and squirts a clear liquid on the tip of the plug. Taking a deep breath, I keep my legs parted wide and brace myself for the insertion of the plug. He situates himself at my exposed center and waits until I meet his eyes.

  “Nora, this is a butt plug. It’s not going in your pussy. It’s going in your ass, and my huge cock is going in your pussy.” He drizzles more of the liquid on the plug and on his fingertips as well.

  Nerves flutter in my tummy. I try to clamp my thighs together, but Luke pushes them wide open and positions me under him.

  “I want both your holes filled up when I claim you as my wife, Nora.”

  My heart thumps against my bosom and pounds so hard in my ears, I become disoriented. Wasn’t I just fantasizing about Luke punishing my bottom hole with his cock? I shouldn’t feel nervous about taking the plug into my back entrance, but trepidation skitters through me, and my asshole clenches against his probing fingers.

  “Let me inside, wife. I’m trying to lubricate your tight passage before seating the plug in you. Be a good girl and relax.” His gentle tone coaxes me into releasing the breath I’ve been holding, and I unwind enough for him to drive his moistened digits in and out of my bottom. Just when his thrusting begins to feel pleasurable, he replaces his fingers with the tip of the cool metal plug.

  “It’s too big. Oh, Luke, I think it’s too big,” I protest, trying in vain to escape his hold.

  “It’s not too big, Nora. It’s the perfect size for a virgin rosebud. Now, bear down on it a tad, and accept it into your tightness.”

  With his encouragement and slow, patient thrusts of the plug into my bottom, I’m finally able to accept its size. As small as it looks, it feels gargantuan in my snug hole. Its presence leaves a steady burn in my stretching muscles, but I have to admit the pain isn’t unbearable.

  “Very nice. You look beautiful with a plug seated between your cute little bottom cheeks, Nora.” He moves up to straddle me and gives me another deep kiss that leaves me breathless and shuddering.

  His hardness nudges between my pussy lips, and he reaches down to drag the head of his cock through my wetness before ever so slowly inching forward. I gasp at the fullness, the sensation of being stretched in both my holes. That’s how he wants me. Filled and stretched.

  The lines on his face deepen in concentration, and I get the sense he’s holding back. I appreciate his restraint, especially when I detect the sharp pain of his cock pushing against the same barrier he pressed against last night with his fingers.

  He grasps my chin and forces my gaze to his. “How do you feel?”

  “Um, very full, sir.” Aching. Excited. Scary good.

  He smiles darkly. “You’re about to feel a lot fuller.”

  Chapter Seven

  LUKE

  Mine. The word echoes in my head.

  Nora is about to become mine.

  She’s so fucking perfect. Innocent and shy, and her embarrassment over urges she doesn’t yet understand enchants a dark part of me. I thrill at the prospect of making her blush over and over again.

  I nudge the tip of my cock against her tight virgin entrance and allow the eroticism of the moment to wash over me one last time before I claim the young woman as mine.

  NORA

  The headboard bangs against the wall under the force of Luke’s deep thrust into my center. A piercing pain rips through me, but it lasts no more than two seconds. He grips my hips and remains submerged in my tightness, not moving at first. He studies my face, as if making sure I’m all right, before he withdraws slightly and pushes back inside my pussy.

  “I’m going to pound you until I come inside you, Nora.” He places one hand on my stomach, spreading his fingers wide. “I’m going to fill you up with my seed.”

  His words almost make me orgasm on the spot. The walls of my pussy clamp down around his length and I cry out when he torments my nipples, alternately pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Pressure coils in my nether region at the steady thrusting rhythm he creates inside me, and when he pushes
in and out faster, he has to once again grip my hips for support.

  At some point, the slight sting from the plug stretching me transforms to an exquisite throb. I didn’t even know my secret hole could feel such pleasure, and I once again envision my husband putting his cock there.

  Punish me, sir. I’ve been a bad girl.

  Soon the insistent thrusts of his cock have me gasping for air. Pressure coils tighter and tighter. His front impacts upon my clit with each quick plunge, driving me closer to the sweet edge of oblivion.

  “Come for me now, Nora.” He releases one of my hips to slap the underside of my left breast, and somehow this roughness, this extra twinge of pain, hurles me into the wondrous abyss of release.

  I come hard and feel the fullness of his huge cock and the plug in my bottom more acutely as my muscles contract. Stars dot my vision, and my head falls to the side as I ride out the pulsing remnants of my orgasm.

  Luke follows me soon after, pumping faster until he spurts his warm seed into my depths. He withdraws from me moments later, and I rest on my side, wishing he would remove the plug from my bottom. Now that I’m coming down from the high of pleasure, the intrusion once again burns in my stretched hole. As if reading my mind, he grins and taps at the plug, making it wiggle in my backside.

  “Oh!”

  “I’ll remove it in a few moments. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  A few moments feel like a small eternity, but once Luke finishes cleaning up in the bathroom, he returns to remove the plug. He also presses a warm, wet cloth to my center and gazes at me tenderly while he cleans me up.

  He urges me to curl up next to him underneath the covers. I snuggle against him, the coarse hairs on his chest tickling my cheek. My cunny and bottom hole are both sore, but it’s a good kind of sore. The kind of sore I want to experience again. Just not in the immediate future.

  I fall asleep in his arms and awake an indiscernible time later to the rich aroma of oyster soup. My mouth starts watering before my eyes open.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time for lunch. I had the cook prepare one of your favorites.”

  I sit up against the pillows and stretch my arms then blink sleepily at Luke. “How did you know oyster soup was one of my favorites?”

  “Your stepfather told me a lot about you.” He places the tray on my lap. “Eat and then we’ll get dressed and take a walk around the estate.”

  The prospect of exploring the outdoors, even if we don’t leave his property, thrusts me into full wakefulness. The soup is delicious, and I finish the entire bowl in a matter of minutes. Luke sits on his side of the bed with a tray piled with miniature turkey sandwiches and fruit. We share our meal in cordial silence. Each time he catches me staring at him from the corner of my eye, I flush and duck my head.

  He’s so gorgeous, I can’t help but stare. He hasn’t dressed yet and doesn’t seem aware of his own nudity, though I spot a robe lying across a chair near the door and imagine he donned it long enough to admit the maid with our lunch.

  We spend the rest of the day walking the vast grounds of his estate. Though located within Marystown, his land sprawls outside of the village, across fifty acres of countryside, most of which are fenced in. He keeps dozens of horses, goats, chickens, and other livestock. There are two large barns inside the fences behind his mansion and two hotel-like structures that house many of the servants and their families.

  His generosity toward his servants strengthens my growing belief that he possesses a good character. We knock on the door of the larger of the two houses and check on the other four girls he rescued from the slavers. They all hug me and claim they are well. On the way back to the mansion, I slip my hand into Luke’s and lean against his shoulder, my heart content.

  Life in Marystown won’t be awful. Though still a stranger to me in many ways, Luke has a good heart, and I know we’ll get to know one another better in the coming weeks.

  LUKE

  As we reach the back steps of the mansion, I pause and place my hands on her shoulders, giving her a serious look. “Until I decide you can be trusted, Nora, you are not permitted to leave the property. If you disobey, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It’s sweet, the way she readily accepts my orders. Standing in the sunlight with her cheeks flushed and her auburn locks swaying from the wind, she’s a perfect image of the girl in the painting. Her expression is relaxed and her bottomless blue depths sparkle as her lips turn up in a timid smile.

  Then it hits me. Why her painting brought me warmth on that dark cold day. At the time, I had felt as if all light had been extinguished from the world, but then I saw her painting and it was light.

  She was light.

  I gather her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her in a fierce embrace. She emits a quick gasp, but then threads her arms around my waist, hugging me back. I close my eyes and breathe in her scent. She smells like a bouquet of flowers, and I can’t get enough. I stoke her hair for a while before finally leading her back inside our home.

  Once we reach the bottom of the staircase, I give her bottom a playful swat. She flushes prettily and lowers her head. Her shyness is adorable, and I can’t wait to get her naked again, panting and writhing beneath me.

  “Upstairs with you, wife. I have more to teach you in the ways of marriage.”

  Chapter Eight

  NORA

  I clutch the coins I’ve swiped from Luke’s study in my palm, careful not to drop them as I stride down the busy street. Today is Valentine’s Day, and though he hasn’t yet given me leave to go exploring in the village, I don’t much have a choice if I want to surprise him.

  He has an important meeting with traders from Sharmon at his factory today. If I hurry to the greenhouse and back without making any extra stops, I will be home long before his return.

  The nearest greenhouses come into sight as I round a corner, and I quicken my pace and once more hope they have roses, particularly red roses. The old magazines I’ve read claim red roses are the most romantic type of flower to give your sweetheart on Valentine’s Day.

  I’ve found a beautiful vase in a storage room and plan to put the roses in the vase alongside a few sprigs of baby’s breath I’ve removed from an arrangement of flowers in the parlor.

  To my delight, a kind elderly gentleman greets me inside the greenhouse and shows me to a vast selection of roses. After choosing a dozen red ones, I’m soon on my way home, hurrying through the streets with the afternoon sun hot on my back.

  Today is unusually warm, though Luke recently commented he’s heard a big snowstorm is headed our way. It stuns me that Marystown is so sophisticated as to possess a weather tracking system, but he claims the village hasn’t been caught by a surprise storm in years.

  Clutching the roses, I scramble upstairs and into the master bedroom, heading straight for the vase I’ve left on the windowsill next to the borrowed baby’s breath. After trimming the stems of the roses, I set about perfecting my arrangement, unable to keep the smile from my face. I’m positively giddy to be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day, and I hope Luke appreciates my efforts. I hope he doesn’t think I’m being silly.

  We’ve gotten along well since our wedding day, and I anticipate the romantic evening I’ve planned. The cook is preparing Luke’s favorite meal, and we’re set to dine in our bedroom at a small table I’ve had brought up.

  A private, romantic evening. Oh, it will be perfect. Perhaps next Valentine’s Day will be even more romantic. Perhaps in a year he will have grown to love me.

  I can’t honestly claim I love him yet, but I like him well enough, and I enjoy spending time with him. Especially all our shared intimate moments. He’s made love to me at least twice a day since our wedding, and I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t enjoy every moment of each deliciously rough session.

  Footsteps sound on the stairs, startling me from my flower arranging. I stick the last piece of baby’s breath into th
e vase and turn, waiting for the door to swing open. The servants who venture upstairs typically walk with a lighter step, so I doubt it’s one of the maids going about her business.

  It must be Luke, and he’s arrived home much earlier than expected. I try to calm my racing nerves with a few deep breaths, hoping he doesn’t inquire how I’d come by the roses. I haven’t exactly thought that part of my plan through yet, and now that I look back on it, I realize I should’ve sent a servant to complete the errand in the first place. A tad late for that now.

  To my shock, I spot a blast of red when the door opens. Luke walks in, carrying a bouquet of red flowers. Carnations. Another popular choice of flower for Valentine’s Day, if I remember correctly. He also holds a heart-shaped box.

  “Good afternoon, Nora.” He approaches me and plants a quick kiss on my cheek before thrusting the bouquet and the box into my hands. A boyish grin lightens his features. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my wife.”

  “You-you know about Valentine’s Day?” Awestruck, I stare at him with wide eyes and then peer down at my gifts.

  “Hardly anyone celebrates it anymore, but, yes, I know all about the history of the holiday. My parents enjoyed observing all the ancient holidays, and growing up we’d all get flowers and boxes of candy on Valentine’s Day.”

  I open the box and sample one of the chocolates, moaning as it melts on my tongue. “Mm. I haven’t had chocolate in years. Gerrardsville rarely receives shipments of it.” I sniff the carnations and sigh. “Thank you, Luke. You’re so thoughtful. Happy Valentine’s Day. By the way, I got you something, too. I arranged it myself.”