Execution Style

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I followed him through the house as he pointed out this and that. He sounded so proud of what he’d done, that it nearly made me laugh.

  I managed to hold it in, though.

  “And this,” he said, stopping at a closed door. “Isn’t either one of ours.”

  I blinked.

  When he opened the door, I gasped.

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  I walked into the room slowly, taking in the soft gray walls, and the dark gray carpet.

  There wasn’t much more than that to see, except for one, single thing.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, running my hands slowly over the beautiful wood. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Online,” he said, running his hand over the wood, too. “I got round because I thought it was cool. All the other cribs looked bland in comparison.”

  The crib was a unique one that was for sure.

  It was completely round with a gray tint to it. The structure and craftsmanship of the crib was exquisite.

  “It’s beautiful, Miller. I love it.”

  Tears started to slowly leak from my eyes, and I turned to see him staring at me, studying my face with a small smile kicking up the corner of his lips.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he rumbled. “It’s non-refundable.”

  I snorted. “You’re such a shit.”

  He pulled me into my arms, and walked me out of the room, taking me to the last door that we’d yet to see.

  “And this,” he said, throwing open the door. “Is our room.”

  It was massive. The walls were a similar color to the rest of the house, but the crown molding at the top of the ceilings really made the color pop.

  The only thing in the entire room, like the baby’s bedroom, was a bed.

  This one was a four-poster king sized behemoth.

  “Wow,” I said, walking up the bed and flopping the top half my body down onto it. “This thing is massive.”

  “It’s big enough to get the job done,” he agreed, pushing up behind me.

  Suddenly, my mind wasn’t on the décor anymore. Now it was focused on more important things. Such as the fact that I’d just married the man currently grinding his massive cock into the crack of my ass.

  He slowly slid his hands around my hips, zeroing in on the apex of my thighs.

  Once his hands reached their desired location, he started to rub along the seam of my jeans, rubbing me so perfectly that I moaned in need.

  “I think we should have some married sex. See how it compares to non-married sex,” he rumbled, going down to his knees behind me.

  I went up to one hand and jerkily unbuttoned my jeans.

  The rasp of the zipper was loud in the empty room, seeming to echo off the walls.

  I swallowed thickly, and waited with impatience as he slowly slipped my jeans down over my hips.

  His hot mouth started to trail kisses up the inside of my thighs as he lifted tugged my tennis shoes free from my feet.

  Then leisurely divested me of my socks, pants, and panties.

  I gasped when he licked the seam of my sex, his tongue poking into my folds as he licked me from my clit all the way to my perineum.

  “Oh, sweet mother Mary,” I gasped, eyes rolling into the back of my head.

  His tongue went to town, teasing my clit, licking my juices up, and fucking me to the best of his ability. Which was fucking great.

  There was never one thing I’d complain about with Miller. He always read me like an open book, and never failed to get me hot and bothered.

  “Please,” I gasped, pushing back into him.

  He chuckled against my pussy, rubbing his nose and lips up and down my thigh. “Please, what?”

  “Fuck me.” I gasped out.

  “Fuck me…please? Fuck me…now? Fuck me…husband?” He asked for clarification.

  Some of the lust haze cleared, pulling my mind back to the here and now long enough to say, “Fuck me now, husband, please.”

  Oh, man, it felt awesome saying those words.

  So I said it again. “Husband, I want you now. I want your hot, fat cock inside me, filling me up so full that I can’t see straight. I want you to dig your feet into the carpet at our feet, and pump me so full of you that I…yes!”

  He filled me with his cock so quickly that I never even had time to think.

  One second I was talking dirty to him, and the next he was inside of me, pumping so hard and fast that I couldn’t catch my breath.

  His hand went up and ripped the band from my hair, causing my long brown locks to fall into a tangled mess against my back, which was what he’d obviously wanted.

  He took a firm hold with one hand, while the other went to my hip.

  “Feel good?” He asked, rotating his hips so the head of his cock ground against that sensitive spot inside me that only he’d been able to reach.

  The only thing I could do was grunt in affirmation as I closed my eyes and clawed at the bare mattress, looking for purchase where there wasn’t any.

  “H-harder,” I said, needing something more.

  I could practically hear the smile on his face. “What else do you want, baby girl?”

  I closed my eyes and whispered. “Your eyes. You on top, filling me hard, staring into my eyes as I come.”

  He slowed to a stop, then slowly withdrew from my body with a groan.

  Once again, the sound echoed off the room’s empty walls as he moved back and gave me room to turn over.

  “Go to the middle of the bed,” he said, shucking his shirt and pants. “And lose your top.”

  I sat forward and pulled my shirt off my body, tossing it across the room as I fell back into place.

  He grinned and crawled up between my splayed thighs, prowling as he came.

  His rigid cock bounced, the skin of his length, shiny with my wetness.

  A bead of pre-come gathered on the tip, and I licked my lips, wanting to lick it so bad I could barely stay in place.

  He moved too fast, though, fitting himself up between my thighs and sliding back in with no resistance whatsoever.

  My mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he filled me, once again.

  His beautiful blue eyes stayed locked on mine as he moved faster and faster.

  My breasts jolted with each smack of hips. Each thrust moved me further and further up the bed until my head was hanging slightly off the other side.

  “Harder?” He asked, studying my face.

  I nodded. “Harder.”

  He growled, ramping up his speed until the sharp smack-smack-smack of our bodies cheered us on.

  “Oh,” I said when the first sings of my pending orgasm started to pour over me.

  My nipples beaded, and my clit swelled.

  My eyes narrowed to slits, and I stayed connected with him as his cock stroked my orgasm out of me.

  “Yes,” I breathed, making his eyes clench shut tightly at the pleasure in my voice.

  He grunted hard, muscles of his arms bunching on either side of my head.

  Our heartbeats sped, and my voice left me as he started to release inside of me.

  Long seconds later, I came back to earth with Miller collapsed on top of me, his sweaty, muscled body pinning me down between him and the mattress.

  “We’re gonna make a mess on the new bed,” I said breathily.

  He grunted.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, pushing his arms around my back and standing with me.

  I squeaked as he stayed firmly inside of me as he walked us to the bathroom.

  “Now we’ll break in the shower. The rest of the house happens tomorrow.”

  I giggled and kissed his neck.

  “That’ll be the day.”

  ***

  Miller

  I walked up the stairs to our apartment, thankful that it’d be the last night there.

  Nothing against apartment living, but I was tir
ed of living so close to people.

  It gave me the creeps to have someone not just below me, but on either side of me, too.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t somehow find a magical way to get all of our stuff over there,” Mercy said beside me.

  I looked down at her, still just as much thankful now, seven hours after she’d been released from the bank, as the moment I’d witnessed it happening.

  I wasn’t really sure what the hell happened with me.

  All of a sudden, though, I just knew.

  I knew she was going to have to be my wife, and I had to have it done right then and there, or everything wouldn’t be all right.

  I admit, I’d overreacted, but I couldn’t help it. She just brought out a side of me that wasn’t very caring of anybody’s opinions but my own.

  “That day will forever be ingrained inside my head. I don’t ever want to witness that again, feel what poured through me when I realized you were in there,” I said quietly.

  She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Miller. I wish I could take it back, make it not happen.”

  “If it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t know that Linda Moose was behind the whole thing,” Foster said from the top of the stairs.

  He was leaning against the side of the door, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, and the other scratching the back of his head.

  “Wait,” I said, halting our forward momentum. “You’re telling me Linda was in on this, too?”

  “Oh, it gets even better,” Foster said, swinging the door open wide.

  As we stepped inside, I came to a halt at our front door, surprised to see not only the men from the SWAT team, but the chief, Mercy’s father, as well as a few of the men from Free.

  Free was the organization that James belonged to, as well as Sam.

  It all started when the unit Sam had been Captain of started to disband.

  When they all retired from the army, they started a custom motorcycle shop. On the side, though, they had somewhat of an underground railroad where they helped women, children, and even some men, get free of abusive relationships.

  They set them up with a new life, sometimes nearly all the way across the country from where they’d previously lived.

  “What’s with all the cars?” Mercy asked at my back as she closed the door behind us. “You having a going away party in there?”

  Foster snorted. “Actually, no.”

  With that, he started gesturing to the men, and introduced the ones to Mercy that she didn’t know.

  “This is Gabe, Max, and Jack. They’re all partial owners of the custom motorcycle shop, Free. They’re also aware of what I’m about to tell you.”

  I blinked, surprised.

  “And what would that be?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and taking in the men.

  “Sarah says that Linda was behind the murder of Faris Blue, too,” Foster explained, gesturing to a signed confession that was on the coffee table between us.

  I bent down and picked it up, reading what Sarah said word for word.

  “Holy shit,” I said, surprised. “What the fuck? How did we not see her?”

  “Makeup. She also cut off all her hair. There’s nothing more than a buzz cut left,” Gabe said.

  Gabe was Puerto Rican.

  He had dark eyes, even darker hair, and a year round tan. The tats on his arms gave a ‘dark and deadly’ look to him, and I knew he was the first to catch Mercy’s attention.

  She backed into me slowly, wary of all the men now filling the apartment.

  Gabe was also a really good guy, something that I could tell easily in the year that I’d known him.

  “Why hasn’t she been arrested yet?” I asked, picking up the picture of what Linda last looked like.

  “Nobody can find her. She disappeared the day she got kicked out of the house,” Luke said. “We’ve got a BOLO out on her, but she’s good. Nobody’s seen her at all, even her ex-husband.”

  I took the last remaining seat, which happened to be a kitchen chair that was made of old leather.

  Once I was situated, I pulled Mercy down onto my lap, and wrapped my arms around her, effectively cocooning her in my strength.

  She’d been awfully quiet since she’d learned of Linda’s involvement, and I was worried.

  Worried that her head was back in that church, where her whole life had changed in a single instant of time. Where her boyfriend, the man she was supposed to count on above all others, had turned on her. Had taken his hand to her, beaten her senseless, and then raped her for all to see.

  She surprised me, though, by asking, “So what are y’all going to do?”

  A knock on the door had Foster standing to move towards it.

  Astonishingly, the man that came in was Silas.

  “Finally, what have you got for us?” Sam asked roughly.

  “If you’d chill your tits, he’d be able to talk, big fucking brother,” Sebastian growled as, he too, pushed his way past Silas.

  Sam snorted and offered his hand to his brother, and I smiled, seeing a little of myself and Foster in the two of them.

  “Move out of the way, this is fucking heavy,” Trance’s voice called from the hallway.

  Speaking of brothers…

  I looked away from Sebastian and Sam to find Trance walking in with what amounted to a large stack of papers on top of about ten boxes of pizza.

  “Happy wedding dinner, big brother,” Trance said as he sat the offerings on the coffee table.

  Mercy giggled, snuggling her nose into my neck.

  “This wasn’t exactly how I thought our wedding night would go,” she said dryly.

  I snorted. “We had a good run. I don’t think I’ll ever be free of these boys. They’re going to be permanent fixtures. Especially those two,” I gestured towards Trance and Foster who were fighting over the same piece of pizza; a more crust than pizza piece, which had a huge bubble of dough on top of it.

  “I wish I had brothers like yours,” she whispered.

  I squeezed her tightly. “You can have them anytime you want.”

  ***

  “Some wedding night,” Foster teased once I sat back into my seat.

  Mercy had fallen asleep about twenty minutes after eating, and I’d carried her to our room, kissing her on the cheek and tucking her in before I left.

  “It wasn’t too bad. She liked the house,” I told them.

  “Which house?” Sam asked.

  “The old Holmes Homestead,” I explained, grabbing a slice of cold pizza and biting into it.

  “I tried to get that land when I first moved here. The old fucker told me to ‘fuck off and eat shit,’” Sam laughed.

  “I think,” Luke said, leaning forward to study the papers on the table in front of him. “That she’s here. She’s following Mercy, and since Mercy’s here, Linda won’t be far behind.”

  I nodded. “I’d come to that conclusion as well.”

  “She couldn’t have been far,” Sam said. “Someone had to help that crazy fuck from this morning get into that bomb. It was strapped to her chest.”

  We sobered, thinking again about what could’ve gone wrong.

  “You’re a lucky motherfucker, big brother. I’m glad you made it,” Sebastian said into the quiet. “I would’ve taken your wife in, as a concubine, for you, but your kids are fucking crazy. I don’t think they all could’ve come.”

  Sam elbowed Sebastian. “At least my kids wear clothes. That’s more than I can say for your son.”

  Sebastian smiled. “Yeah, he’s pretty beastly like that.”

  “Back to business, boys.”

  Chapter 22

  Do not ring this doorbell unless you’re offering me a million dollars and you have it on hand. That or you’re Ryan Reynolds. If you wake me while I’m sleeping, I’ll never let you forget it, and that means you, too, Mr. Mailman.

  -Words of wisdom from a pregnant person

>   Mercy

  “Alright, so you believe you’re around ten week’s gestation, is that what you said?” Dr. Mead asked.

  I nodded at him. “Yes.”

  The door to the room burst open, and Miller, dressed in his SWAT gear, burst through.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to be late. I didn’t miss it, did I? Luke underestimated the time it’d take to run the course.”

  I shook my head, a smile breaking out over my face.

  “Nope, the doctor was just about to do an ultrasound,” I answered, holding my hand out to him. “I’d appreciate it if you closed the door, though, so the staff and other patients didn’t see my hoo-hoo.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  Once the door was closed, he came to my side, eyes focused on the screen instead of the huge mother lovin’ wand about to go up my vagina.

  “Are you the man that saved that little girl a few months back?” Dr. Mead asked, holding the wand out to the nurse.

  Thankfully, though, the woman that said she’d be there, got there.

  Nothing against the doctor, but I really wasn’t looking forward to having him shove that thing inside of me.

  I still wasn’t a big fan of men being near me when I was so vulnerable and, lucky for me, I wouldn’t have to go through that.

  “Sorry,” she said excitedly. “We had a young woman in a few minutes ago pregnant with triplets. I just had to go get a quick look. Are you ready?”

  At my nod

  She applied a generous amount of lube, and then eased it inside of me.

  I winced, heart starting to race slightly at the invasion, but Miller stopped the panic in its tracks.

  Miller kissed my nose, running his bearded jaw over my face.

  I giggled, and pushed him away. “You’re so weird.”

  He winked at me, those baby blues boring into mine before he turned back to the screen.

  “Alright,” the sonographer said, clicking away at something. “This is your baby.”

  I looked at the screen. Then squinted. “It looks like a big old blob.”

  The doctor and sonographer laughed, as did the nurse.