by Sara Fields
“That won’t stop me from putting you flat on your back in my bed and claiming what is mine tonight though, Zoe,” he whispered, and my pussy tightened so hard. My legs jerked closed and I stumbled, but his hand on my upper arm steadied me, not allowing me to fall. I couldn’t deny that his threats of punishment and roughness kept pulling at my core. Even now, I knew that my panties were already soaked through. By the look in his eyes, he knew it too.
“Do I have to take off my belt, or are you going to say your vows like a good girl?” he asked. My gaze flicked back to his and I could see that he wanted me to refuse. He wanted to thrash my bottom with his belt again and when my eyes dipped down, I could see that his cock was hard too.
“I’ll say my vows,” I spat.
“Pity. I was looking forward to teaching you another lesson,” he whispered as he pulled me beside him.
I’d find a way out of this somehow. I just had to wait until the right opportunity surfaced.
Chapter 6
“Grayson Asher and Zoe Parker, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?”
I stared at the priest blankly. I wondered if he knew how this whole ceremony had unfolded, how I’d walked into the building this morning and had been forced down the aisle to become Grayson’s bride by sunset. I sighed and looked out over his shoulder, seeing the sparkling glint of the rolling waves along the beach in the distance. It was as though I could hear them, each crashing roar of water hitting sand and stone, and a strange calm came over me.
“Yes. I do,” Grayson said firmly.
They were waiting for me to give my agreement, but I wasn’t here freely, nor was I here without reservation. No. I was here by force.
“I do,” I echoed. My voice came out sounding kind of flat.
The priest looked like a kind man with soft eyes. He was maybe in his early sixties, but the wrinkles along his eyes told me he’d led a happy life, a full life, and I absentmindedly wondered if I would be able to as well after today.
The whole thing was absurdly surreal.
“Will you each honor the other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?” the man continued.
“I will cherish her as my wife every day,” Grayson replied. He took my hands in his and gently turned me to face him. “I will take care of what’s mine.”
Men like this weren’t real. They didn’t talk like that. Men like him only existed in the movies.
“I will honor him as my husband,” I said softly, but I didn’t believe the words even though I said them.
“Are you ready to take your vows, Mr. Asher?” the priest asked, and Grayson’s firm gaze held mine with a steadiness that I couldn’t bring myself to look away from.
“I am,” he exclaimed firmly. His mouth set in a hard line and butterflies fluttered deep inside my core.
“Please repeat after me then. I, Grayson Asher, take you, Zoe Parker, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life,” the priest recited expectantly.
Grayson squeezed my fingers tight as he began to echo the priest’s words. He spoke with such determined resolution that I found myself caught on the edge of each syllable. His vow resonated deep within the depths of my soul. He never looked away once. He said every word as if he meant them and for the moment, I allowed myself to believe him, that he was saying them for me.
Me, of all people.
When he was finished, the priest turned to me expectantly.
“Dr. Parker, are you ready to say your vows?” he asked.
“I am,” I whispered.
“I, Dr. Zoe Parker, take you, Grayson Asher, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor and obey you all the days of my life,” the priest recited.
It wasn’t lost on me that my vows included obedience among them.
I swallowed hard, but Grayson was there, and his dark brown eyes were like a comforting embrace filled with warmth and safety. There was a hard edge too, a mysterious darkness shadowing the man beneath.
Curiosity killed the cat, but would my own kill me?
I hummed softly and then I took a leap of faith.
“I, Dr. Zoe Parker, take you, Grayson Asher, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor and obey you all the days of my life,” I repeated.
I narrowed my eyes just slightly when I reached the word ‘obey’ and Grayson’s gaze simply sparkled with dark promise. I couldn’t help but glance down at his hands, squirming just a little when I recalled how his palm could bring pleasure or pain across the expanse of my bare skin.
I lifted my chin proudly and finished reciting my vows. My voice remained strong and when I reached the end, I was rewarded with his smile.
I didn’t realize until then just how perfect it was. His cheeks drew in just a little, exposing two small dimples that were really quite handsomely adorable. I wanted to reach out and touch them, but I held back and squeezed his fingers tighter instead.
The kind man officiating the ceremony passed Grayson a small box. Inside it were two rings. One was an engagement ring with a great big diamond set in platinum. The other was a wedding band made of a series of smaller diamonds, but just as impressive all the same.
It was as if Grayson had known my taste in jewelry long before I’d walked in his door that morning.
He gently pulled my left hand up and slid the engagement ring on my ring finger. The wedding band followed, slipping into place perfectly.
He’d known my ring size too.
The priest handed me a box next. I took it in my hands and opened it to find a simple gold wedding band inside. I licked my lips and pulled it out of its sleeve, hesitantly holding it in my fingers.
It felt so heavy. He offered his hand and my own trembled as I took his much bigger one into mine. His ring seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime.
I slid it gently on his finger.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest pronounced, and my mouth went dry. I glanced back at Grayson. He reached for me, and this time I didn’t run. There was a part of me that wanted to, but I pushed it away. His fingers intertwined with mine and he pulled me in. The resistance in me melted away as his hand cupped my cheek. For a moment, he just looked at me as if he was memorizing the contours of my face before he brushed his lips against mine in a kiss far sweeter than I ever would have expected from a man like him. The entire thing felt like the most beautiful dream and a part of me wanted it to never end.
At first, his kiss was a soft caress, gentle and kind and I found myself pressing my body against his. His grip on the side of my face tightened just a bit and his lips grew more persistent, rougher and I lost myself in his firm possession of me. I started to kiss him back just as hard as he did me and that tiny pulse between my thighs that had seemingly faded into a gentle dull ache came roaring back with magnificently brutal force.
The kiss lasted forever yet was over in no time at all. I was almost disappointed when he eventually pulled away from me and I was surprised that a soft whimper flew free from my own mouth. He traced his thumb over my swollen lower lip, staring down at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His fingers squeezed mine once more and he led me back down the aisle. I followed behind him, nervously awaiting what came next. Would he take me straight to his bed? Was there something more he had in mind? Would it hurt?
I didn’t know, but I kind of did want to know.
His stride quickened, and I had to walk faster to keep up with him. My heel caught the back of my dress and I stumbled, but he caught me before I fell.
“I apologize. I’d forgotten you were wearing heels,” he explained gently.
There was no cruelty in the way he said those words and I chewed my lip, trying to figure out this m
an and feeling like I knew him one moment and he swiftly turned into a stranger in the next.
“Thank you for catching me,” I whispered, feeling particularly small and feminine standing before him. It was as though I was a tiny songbird caught in a cage and he was the only one who could open the door to let me out.
“It is the least I could do,” he murmured sheepishly, and I found myself smiling at his honest sincerity. He beamed in my direction, blissful contentment painted across his face, and I looked away, not wanting to face the inquisitiveness inside me that wanted to know more about him. I felt myself blush just the tiniest bit.
He was the perfect gentleman, but I knew there was something darker hidden beneath, a level of depravity that even I couldn’t yet fully grasp and was almost afraid to see.
But…
Maybe there was a part of me that liked that about him. Staring down at the ground, I shook my head. As if he knew I was already lost in my own mind, he cleared his throat, and I lifted my eyes just enough to catch the softness within his.
“I’d like to take you to dinner, my pretty bride. You must be hungry,” he said. He offered an arm, and I hesitantly took it. To be honest, I didn’t have much of a choice.
“I stole some of the cheese in the fridge earlier,” I admitted. There was a part of me that felt quite naughty telling him about that and my pussy clenched a little bit at the thought of what he might do to me later.
On our wedding night.
“I should have thought to put that out with your wine,” he chuckled.
“Well, no one’s perfect,” I sassed, and his laugh deepened.
“I don’t know. Your bottom is utter perfection when it’s bare, bright red, and welted from my belt,” he mused and a quiet mewl of surprise escaped me. I swallowed hard as a hard jolt of pleasure raced straight down to my clit, reminding me that I had yet to come today. If only I could just reach between my legs. It wouldn’t take long for me to give myself exactly what I needed.
He stopped and pulled me close to him. My heart raced as he surrounded me with his massive form, strong and hot and so dangerously seductive.
“You should know that I’m going to take you over my knee tonight and that I’m going to spank that bare bottom bright pink just because I like it that way. Then I’m going to slip my fingers between your thighs and I’m going to find out exactly how soaking wet that gorgeous little pussy is for me. I’m going to look at everything that is mine, my pretty bride, and then I’m going to enjoy all of it,” he murmured, and my legs gave way just enough that I was secretly grateful for his firm hand on my lower back.
Why did that make me react so intensely? It shouldn’t be making me this wet to know a man was going to do such shameful things to me. It should be making me angry, but I was even more aroused.
“Everything?” I whimpered.
“Everything,” he echoed, and I shook hard. There was so much meaning in that simple word. Hesitantly, I took his right hand within both of mine, spreading it open and studying the base of his palm. I ran a single finger across the hard lines of his broad reach, unable to keep the image of his promises of what was to come from my mind. I cried out softly and lifted my gaze to his, only to see him smile with wicked intent.
Rather roughly, he grasped my upper arm and steered me forward. I was too lost in thought to really look around as the sky grew dark around us, but when he paused, I finally lifted my head to see where he’d taken me.
A beautifully decorated gazebo awaited us. Soft, warm lights were hung along the rafters, flickering as if they were candleflames dancing in the wind. There were garlands of flowers wrapped around each pillar. Each white flower petal glowed under the flickering lights, strangely inviting in their glittering perfection. There was a rectangular table set up in the center, covered by a fine white tablecloth. It was laden with platters of colorfully decadent food. There was a bowl of perfectly ripe fruit, another cutting board covered in sliced cheeses and rich meats, and a plate full of freshly baked bread. My mouth watered at the sight of all of it and before I could take another step toward it, my stomach growled angrily. He smirked just enough to tell me he’d most certainly heard it too.
I hadn’t really eaten much today. I was quite famished.
Hastily, I went to climb the stairs, but Grayson swiftly lifted me up and carried me up to the table. He placed me down and pulled out a chair for me.
“My, what a perfect gentleman,” I commented boldly, and he just chuckled.
“You say that now, my feisty bride,” he countered, and I think my face turned the same color as the grape tomatoes scattered in the spring salad right in front of me. He didn’t finish his thought, but the threat was there all the same. I watched him sit down on the other side of the table through the veil of my thick lashes and decided to play along, at least for a little while.
“You’ve promised a great deal, Mr. Asher,” I replied, unable to stop myself from smirking as my pussy tightened rather unbecomingly.
He just smiled and shook out his cloth napkin. His silence was almost worse than if he’d said anything at all and I carefully pressed my thighs together. I was far too aware of just how wet my panties were right now.
I tried to push that wicked thought from my head.
“Dr. Zoe Asher,” he purred.
“Bold of you to assume I’m going to take your name, husband,” I sassed.
His eyes almost sparkled at my challenge. His grin grew even wider, and he unbuttoned his jacket slowly, keeping his gaze on me the whole time. Carefully, he undid his cufflinks and placed them to the side before he rolled up his cuffs. I couldn’t stop myself from fidgeting as I watched him, nervously toying with the layers of tulle around my waist in a fitful need to have my fingers do something. Anything really.
“You enjoy pushing me, don’t you, Zoe?”
The way he purred my name did very shameful things to me on the inside, things I could never bear to utter aloud.
“Yes,” I replied, trying to sound brave and feeling anything but.
He cracked his knuckles and the image of my naked body over his knees flashed before my eyes. I looked down at the plate in front of me, mortified at the direction of my thoughts and casually reached for the glass of ice water right in front of me.
What could Grayson do with a piece of ice?
I almost choked as I took a sip of the cold beverage. I refused to meet his gaze, far too mortified with myself to do anything but try to swallow.
“I’m going to enjoy pushing right back,” he smirked, and he lifted his hand, signaling someone in the distance. In less than a minute, a line of three waitresses filed in our direction, one with a bottle of wine and the other two with covered silver platters. They worked in concert, filling wineglasses and serving the two of us in a show of service that felt rather indulgent. In a flurry, they removed all the covers off the platters, and my hungry eyes took in the sight of the most delicious-looking plate of seafood I’d ever seen.
Oh. I was going to enjoy this. Very, very much.
One of the waitresses guided my own napkin onto my lap and I quickly muttered my thanks, a bit embarrassed that I’d forgotten something so basic in my excitement over all this food. All three women were extraordinarily beautiful, with tight fitted white button-up shirts and short black pencil skirts that showed off their muscular legs particularly well, but the entire time they were there, Grayson only had eyes for me. He ignored the way the women’s blouses revealed the upper cusp of their breasts and he didn’t even appear to notice how their skirts hugged the curves of their asses.
He just looked at me as he sipped his glass of red wine. Only me. Never them.
“I must say, I’ve taken a liking to your favorite vineyard,” he murmured as they worked around us. One of them sliced several pieces of bread right in front of me, but I found I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him either. “Tell me, how did you come across such a small place?”
I smiled bashfully at the memory.
“I, uh, well it’s a rather embarrassing story,” I muttered.
“I’d like to hear it,” he coaxed. I searched his face and decided to tell him. I’m not sure why, but there was a part of me that wanted to.
“Well, I was driving back from a conference in San Francisco a few years ago. I was taking back roads to avoid some rather gnarly I-5 traffic, but I got so incredibly caught up in beautiful scenery that I got distracted and umm…” I fumbled for a second, pretty mortified to tell anyone about what happened next. “I kind of forgot to pay attention to my gas tank. I had noticed when it hit a quarter tank earlier that day, but I missed the empty indicator turning on until my car rolled to a stop about a third of a mile away from the vineyard.” I rushed to say the end, wanting to rip the Band-Aid right off and tell it before I clamped my lips shut and kept it forever my secret.
He tried to stop himself from chuckling by taking a bite of freshly buttered bread, but I’d seen it anyway and that only added to my shame.
“I’d never run out of gas before and there was no one driving on those roads at that hour, so I was left with only one other choice. I had to lock my car and start walking, dressed in a pantsuit and heels, down the road until I found that winery. It was after hours at the time, but bless them, they helped me get a tow to the nearest gas station,” I explained. “I felt so embarrassed that I bought a whole case of wine to bring home for their trouble after they refused to take my money for their help.”
“You didn’t have Triple A or something?” he asked.
“I have ever since,” I mumbled, and he grinned even wider.
“Lucky for you, I have drivers to worry about silly things like filling up gas tanks and changing the oil,” he replied. His eyes were practically sparkling with amusement.
“I can certainly manage. I haven’t run out of gas ever since,” I replied.
“I can imagine,” he purred, and I squirmed just the slightest bit. “I can assure you, if I was with you that day, I would have made sure you didn’t either.”
