Chapter Eighteen
No Fucking Clue
Waking up in Nate’s arms and knowing there wasn’t another soul around to interrupt or influence our day was the slice of heaven I didn’t realise I’d been craving. I drank him in, my eyes feasting on his large muscular frame and that beautiful yet still manly face. How in the world did this happen? How did my life go from perpetually single to married in the snap of two fingers?
“Good morning, husband,” I whispered, sliding my hands over his muscled chest.
He grinned, his eyes still closed as I nibbled the skin at his neck. “Morning, duchess.”
As my hand crept lower, I noticed the sheet tent just below his waist. “Looks like someone else is very happy to see me,” I said, taking in all that hard, smooth flesh that made up the man I could now call my husband. Husband… I didn’t know when that would sound normal to me. My life had now become some insane and unbelievable plot for a movie—but the view was fantastic.
“Enjoying yourself down there?”
Glancing up at him, I pressed my teeth into my bottom lip and grinned. “I think I might need to do a little more thorough inspection of the merchandise,” I said, pulling back the sheet and climbing over him so I was straddling his waist, my back facing his chest, his proud cock standing up in front of me. I used two hands to lift and stroke it. It was heavy.
“Mmm.” His hands settled on my hips. “Inspect away.”
I leaned close, using a finger to trace over his veins. “How do you not pass out from a lack of blood flow when this thing is erect?” I asked, enjoying the way he twitched when I pressed against the main vein that ran the length of it.
“Thing? I’m not sure he likes being called a thing, duchess.”
“Hmm, then what would he like to be called?” I continued gliding my hands up and down his length as I thought out loud. “I think calling him Little Nate would be insulting.”
“Well, he ain’t little.”
“That’s my point. You know, you could make an excellent living in the porn industry with an appendage like this. It’s so big that you could conquer cities of tiny women with it. Oh, I know! Goliath, we’ll call him Goliath.”
When he laughed, I bounced along with him. “I’ve never had a name for my penis before, but sure, Goliath, it is.”
“Does Goliath want to roar?” I teased, gripping a little tighter and sliding my hands up and down his shaft.
“Oh yeah, he does,” Nate moaned, his washboard abs tightening beneath my butt. I may not be able to deep throat his oversized appendage, but I could give a great handjob.
Pressing the sweet spot on his shaft, I rubbed up and down. Leaning forwards, I took the tip in my mouth, using my tongue to tease the rim. His hips rolled and his breath hissed. I sucked a little firmer, pumped a little faster. Then I massaged his balls with a light touch. That was all it took.
“Holy fuck, duchess,” he grunted, then stiffened as hot cum erupted from his tip. I swallowed it down while I slowed my movements and kept him riding that glorious high.
“Well done, Goliath,” I teased when his shudders subsided, stroking it gently as Nate chuckled.
“OK, that’s enough of the Goliath talk for now.”
I twisted my body and smiled at him over my shoulder. “All right, just don’t go getting any ideas over that whole porn industry comment. This might not be your traditional marriage, but I still don’t want other women having access to my husband’s talents.”
He slid his hand up the centre of my back, wrapping his fingers around my long hair before he pulled back so I fell on the bed beside him. He flipped over and held himself over me. “This marriage, duchess, is everything a marriage is supposed to be. Don’t for a second be thinking otherwise. I expect you to behave the way a wife should, and in return, I’ll behave the way a husband should.” He moved his hips slightly, the tip of his cock gliding over my favourite tingly bits, making me gasp.
“Behave the way a wife should? I don’t know if I have it in me to be that kind of girl. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not easily controlled.”
His mouth twitched at the corners. “Then I may just have to fuck you into submission.” He dipped his head and moved down my neck, kissing and licking as he reached down and gripped his cock, guiding it so it rubbed back and forth against my sex, silky soft as it teased my clit and opening.
“Ohh, I think I like this kind of control.”
“I’ll chain you to this bed, make you my sex slave.”
“You don’t need to chain me. I’m willingly here.”
He paused and met my eyes. “Are you?” There was something in his gaze that made my heart flit about in my chest, a hopefulness that showed me just how vulnerable he really was.
Is he afraid I’m going to leave him?
I ran my fingers through his thick hair and down along his jaw until I was touching his lips. “Yes.”
The moment the word left my lips, he closed his eyes and pushed inside, his features softening in relief as he wrapped his arms around me, then rolled us so I was on top. He’d never given me control like that before, like perhaps he was worrying that if he wasn’t pinning me down, I’d get up and run away. But how could I? There was something about Nate that anchored me to his side, called to me like a siren in the sea whenever we were apart. I’d spent months hunting him down, knowing in the back of my mind that I wanted him for far more than simple recompense.
I’d wanted him.
Just like he’d told me that I owned him, he also owned me. That part about our relationship was incredibly clear. The rest? Well, that was a huge fucking mess. But we’d work it out. Somehow.
With our hands joined, I rode him, sliding up and down his shaft, taking him as far into my body as I could. We kept our eyes locked, waiting for that moment when we would both find our release and fall just a little further into the abyss of our emotions.
When our bodies shuddered and he came inside me, I leaned down and kissed him with passion and sincerity. I felt closer to him than I’d ever been to anyone in my life. But at the same time, my mind reeled with a thousand different questions about how we were supposed to work as a couple outside this seaside home. We worked together, that much was clear; our bodies were completely in sync, and when we were alone, everything in the world felt right. But just outside that door, past the long dirt drive, there was an entire world we had to navigate. It was a world filled with danger and secrets, one I didn’t know if I could find any kind of happiness in, let alone bring a child into.
It was something that kept ringing in my ears. The expectation to produce a child had been spoken of more than once, and I honestly didn’t know if I wanted one under normal circumstances, let alone under these. When I thought about my future with Nate, every scenario ended with me sitting on the other side of the Perspex sheet in a high-security prison, unable to touch him and only able to speak via phone. The idea made tears spring to my eyes.
“My duchess… my queen,” Nate whispered, sliding a hand against my cheek as we rolled again and he kissed me languidly, caressing my face in the most loving way possible. He didn’t ask me why I was crying. It was possible that he already understood, or perhaps he just didn’t want to know, didn’t want to face the reality of our problems.
Reality was something I wished I could switch off so I could just enjoy this honeymoon period with Nate. At face value, he was everything I’d ever dreamed of having in a mate: smart, sexy, gorgeous and funny. He likened life to movies and books, and made me feel like a beauty queen every time his gaze simmered against mine. He didn’t give a fuck about my excess curves, loved my slightly overbearing personality, and even tolerated my incessant questions. He defended me fiercely against his family, and as long as I promised to stay by his side, it seemed I could do no wrong. But there was a lot that was wrong. More than I could ignore. So much that I knew it would eventually come between us. This bubble of bliss couldn’t last forever.
I had
to face facts. He was a criminal. Everything beautiful that surrounded us was attained by criminal means. Even the seemingly romantic gesture of merging his things and mine had happened because of his illegal activities. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to that. The big, beautiful, sweet man who made my heart and body sing was not a good man by any stretch of the imagination. And he was completely unapologetic about it because it was all he knew. This life was his normal. I didn’t know if it ever be mine. From that point forward, I’d have to lie to everyone and anyone in order to protect him and myself. Could I do that? Did I feel enough for him to put his safety above my own? To lie for him?
I’d have to lie to my aunt about who he was. Sitting at the table talking about his latest haul certainly wasn’t going to be appropriate dinner conversation. And that wasn’t the least of it—what about my job? I didn’t want to sit around a house raising a bunch of thug kids while my husband was off robbing the rich to make his own family richer.
None of that sat right with me. No matter how lust-filled I was in his presence, I just couldn’t stop that little voice in the back of my head, saying, ‘What about…? What about…? What about…?”
Because I didn’t know. I had no fucking clue.
Chapter Nineteen
Begging Duchess
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, entering the shed that doubled as a workshop. I’d been in the bath reading a book about rock stars when I’d heard banging and drilling in the distance. It continued when I’d climbed out, and since I couldn’t find Nate inside the house, I’d slipped on a dress and some shoes, then followed the sound to investigate.
“It’s a surprise.” He looked at me and grinned, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin. Is it weird that I want to lick it?
Curiosity drew me closer. “A surprise? For me?”
He continued sanding a piece of wood, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with his movements. He wore a pair of jeans and a faded red T-shirt that clung to his sweaty body. It all looked enticing to me. I loved a man who knew how to use his hands.
“I’m not surprising myself,” he teased.
I looked over the items on the workbench, taking in the two long and narrow pieces of wood and the many smaller ones. They all seemed cut from larger branches that I figured had come from trees on the property. I had a fairly good idea what it was, and I already loved it. “Can I try and guess?”
“That would defeat the purpose.”
I ran my hand over his warm back and peered around him. “I’m going to guess anyway.”
He dropped what he was doing, catching me by the waist. “Mmm, you smell good.”
I ran my hands over his chest. “And you smell like work.”
“Is that a good smell or a bad smell?”
I made a show of sniffing him, pulling at his damp shirt. “It’s a good thing. You smell like you and….” I sniffed again. “The ladder that you’re making for the library.”
“There goes my surprise.” He laughed, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I love it.”
“It’s not finished yet.”
“I don’t care. Just the fact that you came out here to build something I suggested off the cuff is the most beautiful thing a man has ever done for me.”
“I guess you haven’t been hanging out with the right men.”
“Aren’t you glad?”
He grinned, dipping his head towards mine. “Very.” He slid his hands down to grip my arse and his mouth connected with mine, kissing me in a way that was softer and more sensual than before. The kind of kiss that made you feel like the centre of the universe, the epicentre of his world.
“I want you,” I gasped, pushing his shirt up his chest so I could feel his skin beneath my hands. “Right now. Right here.”
“I’m filthy, duchess, and you just got out of the bath.”
“Then make me dirty again. We can wash off together.”
He responded by taking his shirt off. “Better?”
I licked my lips, then nodded and ran my tongue just between his pecs, the taste of salt coating my tongue.
He groaned, his fingers gripping tighter against my arse, his hips pressing against me as his erection grew. “Want to play a game, duchess?”
My tongue continued up his throat to the curve of his jaw. “Uh-huh.”
Walking me backwards until my arse hit the workbench, he caught my hands in his, lifting them over my head. “It’s called ‘Begging Duchess’.”
I liked the sound of that. “And how do we play that game?”
“Do you trust me?” Holding both of my hands in one of his, he pulled down a piece of cord and held it in front of me.
I nodded. “Yes.” It was crazy but true. I trusted him with my life.
His eyes smouldered as he wound the cord around my wrists, then secured it to a bracket that housed a shelf of surfboards above my head. “Too loose?”
Pulling against the cord, the boards above me rattled but didn’t shift. I hoped they wouldn’t fall and tugged a little harder. When all seemed secure, I shook my head.
“Good. Now stay put while I finish making this,” he said, stepping away and immediately restarting his work.
“Nate! Don’t you dare leave me here.” I pulled against the cord, twisted my body and tried to kick out at him.
He ignored me and kept sanding, leaning down to blow away the dust and inspect his work.
“Nate.” There was a tone of warning in my voice.
“Duchess.” There was amusement in his.
“Get me down.”
Placing a rung in the vice, he secured it, then picked up a wood plane.
“Please, Nate, please. This isn’t funny.” The direct route wasn’t working, so I tried a little sugar in my voice.
He immediately stopped what he was doing and looked my way, a giant grin curling that sexy mouth of his. “I guess round one goes to me.”
He made me beg. Cheeky bastard.
Putting down his tools, he walked over to me, a swagger to his step as he wiped his hands on a rag and threw it aside. My entire body reacted to him. So incredibly sexy. “I really like it when you beg. It gets me all hard knowing what you want from me.” To punctuate his words, he slid his hand into his jeans and grabbed his cock. My insides clenched from wanting.
“Is there any way that I win at this game?” I asked, a smile tilting the edge of my mouth as I realised how easily I got played.
“Beg for the right things and we both win, duchess.” His voice took on a gravelly tone as his eyes dragged down my body, obviously enjoying seeing me tied up.
“OK. I think I get this game now. I tell you what I want, and you’ll do it, but only if I beg.” He nodded, licking his lips in that sexy way I loved. “What if I tell you to do something and you do it without me begging? Do I win then?”
He chuckled slightly. “Sure, you’ll win if that’s what you want.”
“Drive you so wild that you can’t help yourself? Of course I want to win.” His eyes met mine, filled with interest and desire.
“What is it you want, duchess?”
“I want you to unzip your jeans so I can see your hand wrapped around Goliath.”
His eyes glittered, enjoying his game. “That didn’t sound like begging.”
“Please, Nate. Please, I need to see.”
He did as I asked, unbuttoning his jeans to release his erection. I gasped at the sight, his hand wrapped around his girth, gliding back and forth. So erotic, so manly, it made my core throb in anticipation.
“You like this?”
My breathing quickened as I watched his masculine strokes. “Yes. Keep going, please.”
Heat rose in my cheeks and his tip glistened in a way that made me lick my lips. He groaned at my slight movement.
“Have you ever done that while thinking about me?”
His grip tightened. “Every fucking day since we met. I’d think about that sweet cunt of yours and I couldn’t help
myself.”
“That’s a filthy word.”
“I’m a filthy guy.”
Our eyes locked. He certainly is.
“Take off my dress so you can see.”
His hand slowed while he spoke. “I’d have to cut you loose.”
“You don’t want to see my sweet cunt?”
“Oh, I wanna see it.”
“Then please, I beg you. Strip me.”
With his breathing laboured, he released his cock and picked up a utility knife from his workbench. When he stood in front of me, he lifted his hands above my head, his cock pressing into my stomach. Then he stilled just before he cut the cord.
“Wait. I have a better idea,” he said, lowering his hands so he held the knife at my chest. A sliver of fear flickered through me, but then he pulled the neckline of my dress back and cut into the fabric, gliding the knife all the way down to the hem until it fell open, exposing my naked body. “Mmm, no panties.” He rose to his feet and cut the straps, causing the dress to drop to the floor.
“That was one of my favourite dresses,” I gasped, my chest heaving. I was so turned on that I could feel the cool air touching my juices.
“You begged for me to remove your dress. I obliged.” He grinned and stepped away from me, disappearing farther into the shed.
“Where are you going?”
He was barely gone a minute before he returned with an adjustable stool.
“Just adding a touch of my own.” He positioned the stool under my arse, then flicked the lever until it was high enough for me to sit. “Now, spread your legs,” he commanded.
Fool Me Twice Page 16
