Fool Me Twice

by Lilliana Anderson

  I leaned back, pointing at her sitting in the mud, howling at the sight of our filthy bride. Then, as luck—or fate—would have it, gravity attempted to take me down too.

  “Careful.” Nate caught me before I could hit the ground, but Sam decided to lean over and grab Nate by the ankle, pulling him and me onto the damp ground with them.

  “Why don’t you join us, brother?”

  We were a mess. A howling, crying, laughing mess.

  “All right. Enough,” Jasmine called out, trying to put a stop to our raucous laughter and get the ceremony back on track.

  I wasn’t sure who it was—Alesha, perhaps—but someone sent a ball of mud flying in her direction. It landed smack against the left side of her face, getting her eye and the corner of her mouth.

  Everyone went silent as she pressed her lips together, then scooped the goo off her face. “That does it,” she said, and I thought we were all about to get our ears clipped. Instead, she slapped the handful of mud on the side of Abbot’s face and burst into laughter. “Take that!” she yelled, showing that she actually did have a sense of humour as she dove for cover behind Kristian.

  Before I knew it, balls of mud were flying while everyone laughed and yelled. I was on my knees, grabbing at the ground and flinging it every which way while I tried to shield my face from the onslaught.

  “It’s in my mouth!” I heard Alesha squeal, right before another lump splattered on the side of her head.

  I pointed and laughed, opening myself up to a mud pie right in the centre of my forehead, delivered by my husband-to-be.

  “Brown is your colour,” he said as he wrapped me in his arms and pressed his mouth to mine.

  “No kissing in a war zone!” Kristian yelled, tackling Nate around the waist and slamming him to the ground. Splatter shot up and went all through my hair, so I figured ‘what the hell’ and jumped on top of both of them.

  By the time we got ourselves under control, we were all completely covered in stinky brown mud. Our white clothes would probably never be the same again, but as I stood in front of the muddy celebrant holding muddy hands with a muddy Nate as his muddy family looked on, I wasn’t upset or nervous anymore. In fact, I was smiling.

  “Wait,” Nate said when the celebrant started reading our vows. “I almost forgot.” Dropping my hands, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of fabric, kind of like a glasses cloth. He opened it carefully, trying not to spread the mud too far, and held it out to me. “I thought you’d want to wear this.” It was my mother’s hairpin. I thought I’d lost it.

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I nodded. “Thank you,” I whispered, holding still while he slid it into my hair.

  “Now she’s here with you.” He took my hands again, kissing my knuckles even though they were covered in mud while I cried happy tears. It was the nicest thing he could’ve done. “Focus on the good. Focus on how you feel about Nate.” I felt good when I was with Nate. He made me feel special, made me feel alive.

  “Can we proceed?” the celebrant asked, looking a little pissed because some of the mud had splattered him. We both nodded while I wiped at my eyes—not that it mattered with the amount of mud covering our faces.

  Line by line, we went through our vows, our eyes locked and our hands linked. Even covered in mud, Nate was the most beautiful man I’d ever set my eyes on. And he was about to become mine.

  When the celebrant asked me that all important question, I didn’t even hesitate.

  “I do,” I said with a wide smile.

  Nate leaned in and kissed me too early while everyone else clapped. Sam followed suit, bending Alesha over backwards as he kissed the life out of her.

  “This is the most unorthodox wedding I’ve ever officiated,” the celebrant muttered before he pronounced us husband and wife and walked away in disgust. It was seriously the best wedding I’d ever attended.

  “Wait, wait.” Nate stopped me at the door of our suite, then leaned down and scooped me into his arms. “I have to carry you inside.”

  Balancing me with one arm, he slipped the key card into the door only to hear a negative buzzing sound instead of the agreeable beep and click we’d been expecting.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, trying the card again.

  “Maybe you should’ve opened the door and then picked me up,” I suggested, my arms wrapped around his neck as he tried over and over to no avail. “Are you sure we have the right room?”

  “I’m sure. The damn key just won’t work. I hate these fucking cards. What’s wrong with actual turning keys?” Using the wall and his thigh to keep me off the ground, he inspected the key card and found the problem: we’d smeared mud on the magnetic strip.

  “Bloody hell.” There wasn’t a single bit of clean fabric on either of us to wipe off the strip, so he settled for squatting deep and rubbing the card clean on the hallway carpet.

  I giggled. “You could put me down.”

  “Not on your life. This is tradition, and your feet won’t touch the floor until we’re on the other side of that door.”

  Still in a squat position, he reached up and slipped the card in the lock. When it beeped and clicked, he grinned. All I could see was dried dirt, white teeth and blue eyes. He looked like something out of Lord of the Flies, and I was sure I looked no better. We were leaving our mess everywhere, but we didn’t care. We’d just become Mr and Mrs Nathaniel Cartwright while covered in the stuff. It had turned into a pretty fantastic day.

  “Let’s get you into a shower, duchess. As much as I like my woman dirty, this is taking it a little far,” he said, rising and lifting me without the slightest bit of strain.

  “I like you muddy, but I’m looking forward to getting you into the shower and washing off all those muscles of yours. Rubbing my hands over your soapy skin.” I lowered my eyes. “And… other areas.”

  His eyes darkened as he stepped through the door and released a soft rumble in his chest. “We only have an hour to get down there for dinner.”

  “They can wait,” I whispered, pulling at his bottom lip with my teeth. “There are things I need to do with my husband first.”

  He kicked the door shut and walked me into the large bathroom. “Mmm, husband. I like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah? Call me your wife.”

  He brushed his lips against mine and set me on the tiled floor. “My wife, my duchess, my queen.” He started peeling my clothing from my body as his hands explored my abundant skin.

  “You make me feel beautiful,” I whispered in amazement as my dress dropped heavily at my feet.

  “That’s because you are.”

  “Not to most, but I can see that I am to you. I believe it when I see the way you look at me, and I don’t know why.”

  “Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Reaching out to turn on the rainfall shower, he took my hand and pulled me into the cubicle with him.

  “Yes, I think I do.”

  “You’re my kind of beautiful, Holland. All I see when I look at you is perfection, and I’ve got to tell you, my dick thinks you’re amazing. He was the driving force behind this whole trip.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “But why? You just married me, Nate. Why am I that important to you? You hardly know me.”

  Steam surrounded us, muffling the air and encapsulating us in our own private world. A world that felt safe because it was only him and me. I wasn’t afraid when it was just us.

  “I don’t really know where to begin.” Lifting one of the hand jets from its hook, he started washing the mud from my body, his brow knitted in thought. His hands felt so good against my skin.

  “Begin wherever you want. Just make me understand how this happened, from your point of view.”

  Pressing his lips together, he poked his tongue out slightly, then pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ve never had any kind of serious relationship before, duchess. The family always came first, and anyone who tried to get close was cut loose before they could learn any
thing real about us. It was safer that way, but when you hit thirty-six, meaningless relationships start to be just that—meaningless.”

  Thirty-six. I probably should’ve discovered that sooner.

  “I didn’t even know I wanted anything serious. I just knew there was this discontent inside me. And then I saw you up on that stage.” A smile spread across his face and his eyes danced. “Boy, were you something. I would’ve paid good money just to sit there all night and watch you sway those hips and belt out those tunes. It sounds corny, but I couldn’t breathe watching you, and that feeling I’d been having, I knew that if I could have you, it would go away. I figured that if someone could sing with such fire, such power, she had to have something real special inside her. I wanted that. I wanted you. As luck would have it, you came and stood right next to me at the bar, like it was my destiny to get you that drink. Then you took me home, and the rest is world-rocking history.”

  “Why didn’t you just date me? You didn’t have to rob me, you know. I probably would’ve hunted you down just for another taste.” My eyes lowered to his impressive appendage.

  He chuckled and relinquished control of the jet so I could rinse his deliciously smooth skin. “I don’t know, duchess. The boys were expecting a haul, and I knew that my world and relationships didn’t work. So, I showed you who I was straight up, thinking that’d be the end of it.”

  I rubbed his shoulder, spraying the mud to reveal tan skin that I couldn’t help but kiss. “Then you did it all again. Why a second time?” I ran my tongue along his collarbone.

  “Jesus,” he moaned, his hands landing on my hips. “I can’t think when you do that shit to me. Turn around.” He steered me so my back was against his front, then took the jet and rinsed off my back while pulling pins out of my hair, taking care to make sure my mother’s pin was set on the soap tray so it wouldn’t fall.

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “I don’t know, duchess. Why do men do a lot of stupid things? I hadn’t been able to get you out of my head, and you showed up with your sass and demands and fuck, you got my juices flowing. I suppose I was trying to teach you a lesson while at the same time goading you to come find me again. I wasn’t expecting you to turn up at the house though.”

  “But you wanted me to know who was boss?”

  Satisfied the pins were all out, he aimed the water against my scalp and rinsed the mud from my hair. “I guess. But I think we both know that I’m a fucking slave to you, duchess. You might not realise it, but you own me.”

  “I own you?” That revelation shocked me greatly; I was under the impression that it was the other way around. So many decisions had been taken out of my hands.

  “Yeah, you do.” He squirted shampoo in his hand and began massaging it into my hair and scalp. I leaned back into his touch, my eyes closing in bliss.

  “So, um… this whole thing sounds a lot like love at first sight. I mean, I’m not trying to say that you’re in love with me, but it just sounds like something happened when you saw me…. I don’t know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut—I’d already gotten myself into enough trouble by saying and doing whatever the hell I wanted—but I really wanted to understand this man’s motives.

  “I know that I had want at first sight, but love… that isn’t really something I have a lot of experience with. I know I love that you’re so fearless and smart. You didn’t quit looking till you found me, and I know that isn’t an easy thing to do.” He rinsed the shampoo from my hair, running his hand over my back to wash away the suds. “I love the way your skin feels and smells.” He placed the jet back on its hook, then slid his hand over my stomach, lower, lower, until his fingers found my sweet spot and his mouth pressed against my ear. “I love that you’re always so ready for me when I want to fuck you.” He teased my clit, then slipped a finger into my depths. I rested my head against his shoulder and released a moan. “And I can’t get enough of the way you moan uncontrollably whenever I’m inside you. I love that.” He ran his tongue down my neck, sucking on my skin as he added a second finger and teased my insides. I quivered in his arms. “Love, want, call it anything you like. All I know is that you own me through and through, duchess. I don’t know what it is about you, but for the first time in my life, I want more than the haul. I want you.”

  Lifting my arms above my head, I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled, turning my head in a desperate need to kiss him. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want you,” I whispered in a rush as his fingers brought me to climax and I shook in his arms.

  With his mouth on mine, he turned me to face him, then lifted me off the floor and pressed me against the tiled wall, positioning himself at my opening before sliding inside me. I moaned as I sank down his length.

  “You feel so good,” he gasped, hips swivelling, mouth tasting. “So, so good.”

  It took great effort to allow a man of such size into my body, and every part of me trembled as he pushed and pulled at my insides with each overpowering thrust. I had to relax my body and allow him total control or he simply wouldn’t fit. The experience of making love to him was a test of my limitations, but the reward was an overwhelming, soul-shaking orgasm. I never wanted to stop fucking this man.

  “Duchess,” he moaned, his fingers digging into my flesh as he drew closer to climax, bringing me right along with him.

  “Oh God, Nate,” I gasped, shaking around him, feeling the pulse as his release filled me. I could barely breathe when we were done, and I could tell his knees were shaking. “Do you think they’d miss us at dinner?” I asked when I’d caught my breath.

  “Something tells me our absence would be noticed.”

  I leaned forwards and ran my tongue lightly over his jaw. “It’s just… I’m only hungry for one thing.”

  “Oh Lord, duchess. We will never leave this suite if you start using your tongue like that.”

  “I can’t help it,” I whispered, clenching my core around his girth, only slightly softened inside me. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

  “Maybe they won’t notice,” he said, swallowing hard as I ran my fingernails up and down the firm muscles of his back before resting them at the top of his arse. “And seriously, who gives a fuck if they do? We aren’t leaving this room.”

  Pulling out of me, he set me on the floor and kissed me passionately, his fingers on my face, my breasts, my arse. “I’m going to fuck you every way we can think of. And when we run out of ideas, we’ll google more. I hope you aren’t planning on walking straight tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t planning on getting out of bed tomorrow.” My answer was given without thought. Although it didn’t surprise me, in bed, Nate was Nate and I was me—his duchess—the outside world didn’t matter. I wanted to pretend that this was OK for a while.

  With an approving smile, Nate scooped me in his arms and carried me to the bed, dropping me on the plush mattress before climbing on top and kissing me languidly, his mouth moving down my neck, licking and sucking at my skin. My fingers went into his hair as I wrapped my body around him. “I thought I was the one who wanted to taste all of you,” I gasped when he sucked on one of my nipples.

  “You want me to stop?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes as his tongue teased me.

  “No.” I shook my head from side to side. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  With a chuckle, he closed his mouth around my other nipple and sucked, swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip.

  “I'm going to make you come just by doing this,” he whispered, twisting one nipple in his fingers while he drew the other in his mouth. I moaned, excited by the possibility. I didn’t know if coming from nipple stimulation was a possibility, but if anyone could do it to me, it would be him. “I fucking worship your breasts.” He sucked a little harder and I writhed beneath him, taking immense pleasure from his play, the intensity from his licks, sucks and squeezes increasing until suddenly
I exploded.

  Turned out I could come from nipple stimulation alone. I learned I could come a lot of different ways that night. My husband was a sex god.

  My husband. The man who thinks I own him through and through. The man, who for the first time in his life wanted more. Wanted me. The idea seemed crazy, but who knew?

  It might just work.

  Chapter Sixteen

  No One Touches My Wife

  “Did I do this?” Nate’s fingertip feathered over my cheekbone as his brow knitted intently.

  “Do what?”

  “There’s a bruise blooming and it looks swollen. Did you hit your face on the headboard? Was I too rough?”

  My hand went to my cheek and I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. I had all but forgotten about the slap from his mother, and we’d been too nervous, covered in mud, or lost in ecstasy for him to notice sooner.

  “It’s nothing. I just, uh… I fell a little earlier. Too much champagne.” Based on the way Nate looked down at me, he didn’t believe me any more than Kristian had.

  His jaw clenched. “Who hit you?” he demanded.

  “Hit me?” I tried to laugh it off. “I just told you, I fell.”

  “You really are a shitty actress, Holland.”

  “I’m not lying,” I insisted, not wanting to cause any waves in his family when their tolerance for me was already so tenuous.

  “Tell me who the fuck it was.” He shot out of bed and unzipped his bag, pulling out a pair of jeans and slipping them on.

  “Nothing happened, Nate. I’m fine. Please just come back to bed.”

  Pressing his lips together, he shook his head. “No.” He pulled a white T-shirt over his head, then buttoned his jeans.

  “What are you even doing?”

  He shoved his feet into his shoes. “Since you won’t tell me, I’m going out there to get to the bottom of this. No one, and I mean no one touches my wife.”

  “Nate!”

  Grabbing the key card, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door of our suite behind him