The Willfully Wedded Virgin (Beyond Fairytales)

by D. L. Jackson

  “I won’t have doubts. For once in my life, I know what I want. It’s hard to explain why, but I do. It all seems so clear now. I always felt out of place in my own time and unsure of whom I was meant to be—until I met you.”

  The trip took nearly ten hours. By the time they reached Will’s old campsite, evening had begun to creep up on them. Thank God he’d insisted she wear the shorts. Anything else would have inflicted unbearable misery. Sure, she’d protested showing so much skin at first, but now it all made perfect sense, and it hadn’t taken her long to get over the immodesty…especially when every other woman dressed in the same manner.

  The tent and supplies were where he’d left them, a surprise to both of them. Even more amazing—Will’s camp sat in the exact spot her father and his men had chosen to set up their tents in 1905, and her bedroll had lain where Will put his. Elizabeth studied the rock she’d perched on more than a hundred years before and then took a seat, surveying the clearing. No sign her father, she, or Alexander had ever been there. It seemed almost like a dream.

  Will unbuckled his pack and shrugged it off his shoulders, dropping it to the ground. He turned to her with a canteen. “Thirsty?”

  “Very,” she said, nodding, and he handed it to her. She took a drink but did her best not to suck it all down, reminding herself to sip like a lady. “Thanks.” She held it out for him to take, even though she could have easily downed five more of them and already had on the way there.

  “Finish it. It’s okay. I have more in the pack and purification tablets for later. The last thing you want is to get dehydrated out here.”

  “Thank you.” She took another sip and met his gaze.

  He gave her a soft smile, and Elizabeth clenched her thighs together. So damned charming—even though his face looked like he’d come out on the losing end of a prize fight. And what was the word he’d used before to describe attractive?

  Hot. Yes, well. She fanned herself with her hand.

  “You’re welcome.” Heat smoldered in his eyes. Promise there, yet….

  He didn’t bother to bring up their prior discussion about being together. Had he forgotten? He hadn’t mentioned it once while they walked, avoiding any discussion that would bring up the topic. Elizabeth tore her gaze away. Maybe he didn’t want the same thing she did? She wrung her hands and stared at the tips of her boots.

  “Gonna go gather some firewood to keep the predators at bay. Shake out the bedding if you would, and I’ll douse everything with some bug juice to get rid of any crawlers that might have taken up residence. I zipped the tent when I left camp, but that doesn’t mean smaller bugs and spiders didn’t get inside.”

  And then he was gone just like that. Not one word about her staying as his spouse and fulfilling her wifely duties. Did he expect her to bring up the topic of sex? Women didn’t do that—ask for intercourse. Did they? This “futuristic woman” business turned out to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. Did one or did one not ask one’s husband to—

  “Did you think I forgot about our talk?” he came up behind her and whispered in her ear.

  Elizabeth launched off the rock and into the center of the clearing. Her heart skipped about, racing at the speed of a rabbit trying to avoid a fox. “Will! Don’t do that. You nearly scared me out of my skin. There are creatures out here that could eat me.”

  “Indeed there are.” He grinned at her and dropped an armload of firewood. “Forgot I’d already stacked some. So, Mrs. Davidson, should we shake out that bedding and put it to use?”

  Well, she’d wanted him to broach the topic first, but she hadn’t a clue how to answer his question in proper fashion without sounding like a whore.

  His smile vanished. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No. I’ve just never been addressed so directly about certain things, and I…. Well, is it proper to discuss matters that take place in bed?”

  He chuckled. “Honey, not only is it proper to discuss sex, you’ll get bonus points if you talk dirty to me.”

  “Talk dirty? About relations?”

  “Yeah. But not so proper. Kind of kills the mood.”

  “How?”

  The grin he gave her told her she was in trouble before he even spoke. “Start with the word fuck.”

  “Pardon?” The humidity must be baking her brain. I must have misunderstood. No man would want a woman to speak in such fashion.

  “Use it in a sentence.”

  Yes. Yes, he did. Elizabeth blinked. She spun around, putting her shoulder to him, hugging her body. No. No. No. Proper ladies didn’t speak that way. It went against everything she’d been taught.

  “Say it.” He came up behind her again, pressing his lips to her ear. Jolts zinged through her belly. “Say it, baby. Say fuck.”

  “Fuck.” Did that come from my mouth? Shame washed through her. What kind of spell had he put her under? Even Alexander hadn’t been so brazen in words or actions. God, she wanted to crawl under a rock. If anyone heard her talking that way, she’d die.

  “This time tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  Heat crept up her neck. “Fuck me. Please.” Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth.

  “Good, baby. Now tell me what else you want me to do to you.”

  Tell him what? Oh, she didn’t like this game. As though her mouth had a mind of its own, involuntary words slipped out. “I want you to….” How did one put it delicately? Run his hands over her body. Touch her breasts. Squeeze her ass. She inhaled, certain she sounded like a world-class hussy. “Kiss me.” No, not really, but it would make a good start to what she desired. What she really wanted. Oh, I’m a whore.

  “Just kiss you? Okay. I can do that.” He nipped her neck and placed a light kiss on her nape and then another and another, trailing up her tender skin, sending shivers through her body and straight to her womanly bits. Warm breath brushed her skin, and the heat of the jungle intensified. He caught the flesh of her lobe between his teeth and tugged. “Where else would you like to be kissed?”

  Oh, my. “Bally hell. Just take my clothes off and do whatever the hell it is you men do!”

  “That’s the way to talk dirty.” Chuckling, he slid his hands around her waist to her belly and the button on her shorts. Her pussy throbbed. “Your wish is my command.” And just as she thought he’d put her out of her misery, he retracted his hands. “But after we shake that bedding out.”

  Elizabeth spun around to give him a tongue lashing for his wicked teasing and found her lips captured in a hungry kiss. He fisted her hair, taking their kiss deeper, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Elizabeth moaned. Her toes curled in her boots. This man would be the death of her. Wanton. She’d become a shameless dollymop, the very type of woman she’d told him she wasn’t.

  Chapter Ten

  “Thank you, William!” Alexander shouted. He turned around, surveying three hundred and sixty degrees of unbelievable fortune.

  “Get out of the street, you fucking freak!”

  A vehicle honked and swerved around him as he laughed. Everywhere, buildings rose into the sky. One monument in the distance, a statue of a robed woman holding a torch, told him where he stood. The City of Gold. New York City.

  He’d always taken the name of El Dorado literally. Who could’ve known that real wealth rested in knowledge of future events, the ability to bet on a horse race or invest in a market with an absolute guarantee of success? Awareness of what was going to happen and a chance to manipulate things to his favor were much better assets than any yellow metal. Once he figured out how to travel backward and forward in time, his pockets would be bottomless.

  Wealth. Power. Women. All his for the taking. William hadn’t been wrong about the City of Gold. What Alexander saw before him wouldn’t just make him rich. He’d be a god.

  A food vender standing beside his cart appeared to be the sort of gent who could point him in the direction of the other portals mentioned in the journal. “Excuse me.”

  “
Yeah.”

  “Can you tell me how to get to the museum?”

  “Do I look like I’m selling maps here, buddy? If you aren’t buying food, move on.”

  Alexander reached into his pocket and retrieved a gold dollar.

  The man studied it. “That real?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Which museum?”

  “One with a South American exhibit. Perhaps with a crystal skull?”

  “Yeah, I know the place. Central Park West on 79th Street. They have some Under the Same Sun thing going on right now. I think I read something about glass skulls bein’ there.” The man snatched the coin out of his hand. “You wanna hoagie?”

  “No. But could you give me some change for another of these?”

  “Yeah.” The man crammed a twenty in his hand and retrieved the second coin. “That’s it. I don’t know if this is real or not, so take it or leave it.”

  Alexander smiled and plucked the bill from the man’s hand. “It’s real, and I’m certain it’s worth more than this.” He turned to watch people flag down yellow vehicles.

  “You sure you don’t want something from the cart?”

  “I have bigger cats to skin. Good day, sir.” Alexander walked down the sidewalk and stopped next to the curb, waving his arm. A yellow horseless carriage pulled over. He opened the door as he’d seen others do and climbed in.

  “Where to?”

  “Central Park West and 79th Street, if you would be so kind.”

  “It’s your buck.” They pulled out into the street. “You an actor or something?”

  “Yes, something like that.” He watched out the window, studying everything. Who would have thought Lady Fortune would smile on him so?

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of gold dollars. Not worth much more than face value where he’d come from, but here…? He’d had them in California when he got on the train after a long and tedious boat ride. Pocket money for the trip. “On second thought, could you take me to someone who buys old coins?”

  “No problem.”

  After he secured a room, he planned to read the journal some more, open the portal at the museum, and then go hunting. If Miss Elizabeth Dodge made it to this time, she could destroy everything. He’d need to travel between the two times to make his fortune, and since she knew he’d murdered his brother, she’d certainly report him to the authorities. Hard to reap your rewards as a fugitive.

  First, he’d take out the expeditionary party in the jungle then he’d finish off the lovely Miss Dodge. Now that he had what he wanted, he wouldn’t let some simpering female wreck it. Besides, he didn’t need her or her father’s money. He owned the world, now, and he planned to keep it that way.

  Two hours later, with his pockets loaded with money and a ticket to Peru, Alexander stared out the window of the 747, waiting for the plane to depart. Who knew the coins were worth hundreds of thousands of dollars? The merchant’s eyes had widened when he saw them. “Rare,” he’d blurted out.

  The journal hadn’t given him any clues as to how to reverse the trip from 2015 New York to his 1905 starting point in the jungle, and the museum kept their displays so tightly guarded and locked down, he couldn’t make contact with the skulls, so he decided to return to Peru by modern means and try to find a door in the ruins. First step—take the redeye.

  Wealth spoke a universal language. It hadn’t taken much to find someone who could create the documents he’d need to make a trip out of the States to Peru. He’d discovered that in 2015, just as in 1905, anyone could be bought for a price.

  The concierge at the hotel had happily booked him a flight, so here he sat, waiting for his first air trip. Noticing the number of people boarding the airplane and how much money he’d spent to purchase a seat, he marked this mode of transportation as one of his first futuristic investments.

  When he’d asked about purchasing fare on a boat, the staff at the hotel insisted the plane would be faster and were surprised he’d never taken a plane before, since he hailed from London, but he didn’t have to explain anything. They’d just assumed he had a fear of flying.

  How easy this manipulation of time and people was turning out to be.

  ***

  Elizabeth’s head spun as she watched Will disappear into the orange fabric dome to shake their bedding out. Never would she ever have dreamed she’d celebrate her honeymoon in the jungle with a man from the future.

  “Elizabeth.” Will stood beside her, hand extended, as though he’d appeared out of nowhere. Reaching out, she laced her fingers into his and let him pull her to her feet. Before she could take a step, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their abode. “No bride walks over a threshold, even if it’s only a tent.” Will continued across the roomy space toward where he’d rolled out their bedding on an air-filled mattress. He set her down on the surprisingly comfortable surface, and her heart began to pound again.

  He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and shucked it over his head, dropping it to the floor.

  “I don’t think…. Oh.” Elizabeth forgot what she wanted to say. God had certainly carved this man from marble. A masterpiece like she’d seen in museums and art galleries. She blinked, unable to believe any man could look so good. A fine trail of hair led from his belly button down into his short trousers. Elizabeth stared. Oh, the things her aunt had told her. She couldn’t get the old woman’s talk out of her head. Nothing would jump out of his pants and grab her. Her heart thumped and a lump formed in her throat. Silly, really. There were no such things as trouser monsters. Were there?

  “You don’t think what?” He reached for his fly and unbuttoned the top button.

  All the moisture in her mouth fled. Broad of chest and shoulder, her husband could only be described as an impressive specimen. No slouch, her man. His flat, muscled belly was a sight to behold. She’d felt that hard muscle under his clothing when he’d held her, but never imagined what she now saw. “Hot.” The word left her mouth before her brain registered she’d said it out loud. But it did catch up with her. Heat rushed to the pit of her belly, letting her know where his futuristic term came from. Certainly she’d melt into a puddle if she stared at him much longer.

  “Are you warm? I can get you some water.”

  “No. Did I say it wrong? I meant to imply you are beautiful.”

  “Beautiful?”

  “Not beautiful. That is not what I meant to say.” God, she sounded daft. She bit her lip. “You make my stomach flutter, my heart pound, and my flesh burn. But, Will, I don’t know if I can manage watching you drop your trousers.”

  “Then why don’t I undress you first?”

  “I….” Her stomach clenched. No, not better.

  Will sat on the mattress beside her. He rolled onto his side and held her gaze. “We’ll take it slow. Okay?” He skimmed his hand along her hip, resting his palm on her waist.

  “Not too slow, mind you.”

  He grinned, pushed her onto her back, and rolled on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows. “Whatever my beautiful wife wants.”

  He claimed her mouth while he used his knees to pry her thighs apart. Her cunt began to throb as a hard bulge in his crotch pressed against the apex of her thighs.

  That would be the trouser monster.

  She couldn’t remember him sliding her shirt over her head, but her garment had vanished sometime between that time-stealing kiss and his nibbling down her neck. Her bra-clad breasts pressed against Will’s chest, while his hands roamed lower and found the button at the top of her shorts. He popped it open and slid the metal tab down. His hand slipped inside her shorts, zeroing in on—

  Stars exploded through her vision.

  “Oh.” Never did she even think it would be like this. Everything she’d heard while drinking tea in the parlor and gossiping had made the act sound rather unpleasant. She arched into his hand. Lord have mercy. No, not unpleasant.

  “That’s it. Relax and go with it. I’m going
to make you come. It will make the sex easier your first time.”

  “Come?” she groaned. “What’s…?”

  “This.” He slipped a finger inside her womanly bits, and her pussy convulsed around his digit. She fisted the bedding and rocked against him.

  “Oh.”

  Will didn’t let up. He continued to stroke her and drive her to bliss-filled madness.

  More, more, more. Please, stop teasing. “Fuck!”

  Elizabeth froze.

  “Relax, hon. I’m the only one who’s going to hear it. Scream it out if you want. Let me hear those nasty words. It lets me know you like it.”

  “A lady doesn’t—” She gasped. “Oh fuck. Yes!” She came again. Harder. More intense.

  As she spiraled down from her second trip to heaven, Will sat up and grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties, tugging both off at once. Next, he reached under her and unfastened her bra, tossing it across the tent.

  Instinctively, she threw one arm over her breasts and covered her mons with her other hand.

  Will straddled her hips, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her hands over her head, holding them while he studied her body.

  Heat washed over her in a giant wave, consuming her with fire. “Please.” She tugged against his grip. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Look at you? Honey, I’m going to do more to you than that.” He pulled her arm down and pressed her palm against his erection. “This is what husbands and wives do. I promise I’ll make it good. Don’t be afraid.”

  She nodded, unable to stop the full-body blush. “Will it hurt?”

  “Maybe a little the first time. I won’t lie to you. Men and women have been doing this since the beginning of time, and there’s a reason for it. It won’t always hurt. Far from it. Okay?”

  She closed her hand on the bulge.

  He groaned.

  “Are you big?”

  “Not exceptionally large. Not small. Do you want to see?”

  She bit her lip. A brazen thing to ask, to be sure. Even more brazen to answer honestly. “May I? I’ve never seen—”