“No reason to be nervous, not with a body like yours.”
“You like how I look?”
I step up behind her, tugging off my jeans before wrapping an arm around her waist, my fingertips brushing over her belly button, my cock pressing against her ass.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, unhooking her bra slipping the straps from her shoulders. I cup her breasts, kissing the soft skin at her neck. A chill runs over her. “Nervous now?”
She shakes her head, turning to face me. I massage her gorgeous tits, loving how plump and ripe they are. Her nipples are hard beads and I run my thumb over them, noticing the way my touch causes her eyes to close, the softest moan to escape her lips.
“I told you, I’m not nervous.”
“What are you then?” I ask.
“Ready.”
Our eyes meet and I love how sure she is, of me, of this moment, of our future. It makes me hot with need for her and I take her hand, wrapping it around my long thick shaft.
“That feels so good,” she tells me, arching her back as I run my hand over her, brushing my fingertips beneath her panties.
“I plan to fill you up, Sophie.”
“Show me what you plan to do.”
I lift her up and carry her to my king-sized bed. “Lie on your back and let me see your cunt.”
Her eyes widen. “Dirty words.”
“I like things dirty. Rough. Wild.”
She whimpers, liking my words, and I spread her legs, looking at her sweet pink pussy. “I’m going to lick you now, wife.”
“If it’s a part of the plan, you must.”
I know this isn’t love, but as I run my fingers over her slit it feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.
She is perfection, her creamy cunt ready and wanting and I run my tongue over her, pinning her down as she squirms with delight. Good. My wife likes to enjoy herself.
I lick her properly, tasting her sweet juice, loving the way she opens up for me. My hands glide over her bare skin, my cock growing with want. Every inch of her is divine, and she doesn’t hold back.
“God, you were made to be devoured,” I tell her, looking up into her eyes. Her head is against a pile of pillows and my fingers begin to ease her open. “You’re so fucking tight though, I’m gonna need to get you ready for me.”
She bites her bottom lip. “It’s because I’m a virgin,” she says.
My hand stills abasing her creamy warmth. “You’re a virgin?”
She nods. “I guess I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Goddamnit, they sent me a fucking virgin?” I run a hand over my beard. Both turned on and terrified of hurting this sweet little pussy. My cock is hard as steel and the thought of filling her tight channel up makes me wince. I don’t know her and I sure as hell don’t want to hurt her.
“You didn’t want a virgin?”
I scoff. “I love that you’re a virgin, but, I didn’t think you were … you’re so confident.”
“I trust that the Universe brought us together.”
I chuckle. “It wasn’t the Universe. It was an agency.”
“Sure,” she says, sitting up and taking my hands. “But it was destiny.”
“Destiny?” I try not to roll my eyes. This gorgeous virgin in my bed can be spouting off about anything she likes. Doesn’t mean I have to believe it.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “And I know I’m a virgin, but I’m confident because I believe in this. In us.”
I run a hand over her cheek, drawing her to me. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to.” She runs her hand over my bare chest, her eyes lowering to my cock. “But I want to know all about you.”
I don’t understand this woman, but I want to make my wife happy. “You sure you want me to take your virginity? We can wait.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to take it. I’m giving it to you.”
I lower my virgin bride to the bed, cradling her in my arms. She smells like orange and anise, layered and complex, and I breathe her in. Whatever magic she carries, it’s intoxicating. I’m not a man who falls for women, but damn, this bride of mine has me fucking head over heels.
I ease the tip of my solid thick cock into her entrance, and she whimpers beneath me as I ease myself against her. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” she whispers, her eyes shut, her heart pounding against my chest.
“You’re so tight, Sophie,” I tell her. And god, she feels so good.
“You’re so big,” she moans, wrapping her arms around my neck. I kiss her, hard, the intensity of the moment wrapping around us both. We are strangers, but we’re also husband and wife, and right now we are consummating our marriage.
I fill her up, my cock raging with want. Looking in her eyes she gasps, a single tear sliding down her cheek.
“I’ll stop,” I say, wiping it away, but she shakes her head.
“No,” she insists. “I want to feel this, feel you inside me. It’s what I always wanted.”
I kiss her again, this time softly, her lips perfect pillows, her body the place I want to rest against.
I’m not a soft-hearted man … but here, in this moment, with Sophie, I’m goddamn smitten.
Chapter Five
Sophie
When he buries himself inside of me, I gasp, pushing past the initial pain as pleasure washes over me. I’m panting, holding on to him, clinging is more like it. I’ve never felt like this before, a thousand pinpricks of desire flooding me at once.
“It feels so good … so … so…oh, Sully,” I moan as a rush of hotness fills me. He’s coming inside me, and I’m coming too. He holds me at my hips, thrusting against my body, and I melt then and there.
He stills himself as we finish, both of us working to steady our breaths. I look into his eyes. “That was … that was… my first orgasm, I mean, that I didn’t make happen myself.”
He grins down at me, his hair falling into his eyes, his rugged features sending butterflies fluttering in my belly.
“How’d you like it?” he asks rolling off of me, and pulling me to face him on the bed. Our bed.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to walk again. I feel split in half in the best possible way.”
“I can make you feel like that every day of your life.”
I close my eyes, savoring his words, this moment. My husband and I just had sex.
“I knew it was going to be perfect, but this is even more than I let myself imagine.”
He brushes back a loose strand of my hair. “How were you so sure?”
“I told you, destiny brought me here.”
He chuckles. “No, but really, how are you so certain?”
I exhale slowly, my skin still prickling its pleasure. “I followed the signs here.” I tell him about the billboard and the ring, the Baked Alaska and the horoscope.
He smiles. “And you believe all that?”
I scrunch up my face. “All what?”
“You think signs delivered you to my doorstep? That is coincidence, Sophie. There’s no such thing as fate, things being written in the stars. Life is about choices, about making decisions based on facts. Follow your gut, sure, go with a hunch if you have one — but astrology and all that—” He waves his hand in the air, “it’s all pretend.”
“I disagree,” I say reaching for a sheet to cover me with, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.
He smirks, but it feels less charming and more condescending. He kisses me on the nose. “It’s been a long day, let’s end it on a good note.”
I nod, agreeing. “I hate to fight.”
He smiles. “That’s something we can both agree on.” He pulls me to him and I nestle against him, this man who made me his wife.
* * *
In the morning Sullivan gives me a tour of the house. He shows me his office and tells me about his company. He makes large investments and uses his earnings to develop areas of Alaska, primarily Juneau. Whe
n he asks what I do, I feel a flush of inadequacy.
“I’m a barista,” I tell him. “Or I was. I never went to college or had big ambition.”
He nods, listening closely. I appreciate that he listens, and even that he asks. I assume not every man entering an arranged marriage are as handsome and interesting as Sully.
“So now I’m curious, what is your family like?” he asks as we head to the kitchen where we work together on making a breakfast.
“I was actually in foster care, I haven’t seen my parent since I was five years old.”
He sets down the carton of eggs and milk, his eyes on mine. “Shit, Sophie. I’m so sorry.”
I wave him off and turn toward the massive espresso machine. I may know how to pull shots and steam milk, but this copper contraption isn’t one I’ve ever used. “It’s nothing,” I say. “We all get our lots.”
“Destiny, was it?” he lifts an eyebrow.
My lips twist as he helps turn on the machine and shows me how to operate it. It’s actually a lot more simple than it appeared. “Well it could have been worse,” I tell him. I came to terms with my childhood a long time ago. “I’m happy and healthy and have a lot to be grateful for.”
He nods, cracking eggs in a bowl. “You’re pretty generous with the world.”
What’s the alternative? Be angry and bitter?” I shrug, pressing a button to pull the espresso shot and begin steaming milking a stainless steel pitcher. Who would have thought I’d come to Alaska and still be making coffee? I look out the kitchen window, the bright ocean and the welcoming blue sky. God, how did I get so lucky?
He comes up behind me and kisses my neck. It sends a warmth through me I’ve never experienced before. “You’re a sweetheart, Sophie.”
I finish the coffees and turn to him. “Thank you, Sullivan. For bringing me here.”
He nods, looking at me in a way that is disarming. Like he sees me somehow; this man I hardly know.
“Tell me about your family,” I say, wanting the attention off me. At the island I chop onion and green pepper and he grates cheese for omelets. I appreciate that he knows his way around the kitchen. In so many ways he is the complete package. So why exactly did he need to buy a bride?
He tells me how his parents have passed away, and his Grandfather just recently. “Then there is my brother Harrison and his wife Hannah—they used the same match making service, and they are the cutest couple ever. Maybe it’s cheesy for a man to say that, but Harrison has been through hell and Hannah is the perfect woman for him.”
A light bulb clicks on. “Ohhh, I see,” I say nodding as he adds the scrambled eggs to the pan.
“See what?”
I smile. “Why you did this. You want to be like your brother.”
Sully frowns. “I don’t want to be like Harry. He thinks he’s smarter than me; got life all figured out. Content to live in the middle of nowhere and do his thing.”
“But not you?”
He adds cheese and the veggies to the eggs. “No. I like living out here, but I love my job. I want to be rich—”
I laugh cutting him off. “You’re not rich enough now?” I ask, looking around. The house alone must be worth a fortune.
He shrugs. “There is always more money to be made.” I don’t say anything more on the topic because money has never been a driving force to me. Being happy, content — being safe and secure — those are things that push me forward each day.
We eat our eggs at the kitchen island, facing the water. I look over at him, trying to understand this man, who I’ll be living with in the middle of nowhere. “I suppose if you’ve got to make money, this house is a pretty nice place to be making it.”
* * *
Sullivan heads to his office to reply to a few emails and I decide to unpack. When I reach for my bags, I find my phone buried in my purse. I find there is a longing in my chest for a family, a sister or a friend to call. My old co-worker, Charlotte, and I got along well enough, but we weren’t best friends. And she thought this entire adventure was a little bananas, to be honest.
Still, on my phone I see that I’ve missed four calls. All from Robby. Hating the sight of his name, I bury the phone back in my purse and begin to unpack my things, I may be in Sullivan’s house, but this is going to be my home too. Right now it just feels big and not very personal. It needs a woman’s touch, and as I pull out my sage and smudge stick, my diffuser and essential oils, I know that I’m just the woman for the job.
Of course I am; after all, it was destiny that brought us together.
Chapter Six
Sullivan
I’m just finishing up my phone call when I smell the smoke. I push away from my desk, and drop my phone, forgetting all about the parcel of land I’d been discussing and focus solely on finding my wife.
“Sophie?” I shout, running from the office. “Sophie, where are you?” Panic rises in me as I consider the worst. But there she is, in the living room, waving a wand of what looks like dead leaves, smoke surrounding her, a feather in her other hand, sending wafts of smoke everywhere. “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, grabbing her wrist, looking into her eyes. My panic is quickly replaced with confusion.
“What?” She shakes her head, pushing me away. “What is your problem?”
“My problem?” I ask, grabbing the bundle of smoking twigs from her hand and carrying it outside, pushing open the doors leading to the wrap-around deck. I drop them to the ground and stub the smoke out with my shoe.
“Yeah,” she asks, following me. “What’s your issue?”
“You’re trying to start a fire in my house. What are you thinking? The fireplace or fire pit outside work just fine.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and I can’t help but feel stunned by her beauty. Still, I focus. Her actions though, catch me off guard. She bends down and reaches for the twigs. “This is sage, and I was trying to clean the energy from your house. It’s all stifled, too male.”
I scoff. “The energy? What, are you a witch doctor?”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you serious? I thought you used to live in the city, I thought you’d be more open-minded.” She tosses the ruined sage and tosses it over the deck into the trees. “You’re acting like a caveman.”
She turns on her heels and goes back into the house. I follow her, wanting to have the last say. “I thought you were in danger, that there was a house fire.”
That causes her to pause, and she turns to face me. “You were worried about me?”
I nod, running a hand though my hair. What has this woman done to me? Damn, when did I start caring so much how a woman felt? I guess right about the time my bride stepped off the plane.
She places a hand on my chest. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
I pull her toward me. “Damn, you’ve gotten me all soft in less than a day.”
She licks her lips. “You don’t seem very soft to me.”
My cock twitches, knowing she’s right. I lead her to the couch, ready to have my way with her, when I see all kinds of shit lying out. “What’s all this?”
“Oh, just some of my things.”
There are books on astrology, decks of tarot cards, a tray that is displaying all sorts of gems and crystals.
“You’re really into all this shi— stuff?”
She twists her lips. “Yeah, do you have a problem with that?”
I groan, not wanting to fight with Sophie. “It’s just all a little … silly, is all.”
She frowns. “Ancient wisdom is silly?”
“Ancient?” I pick up the deck of tarot cards and read the box. “This was printed in Detroit in 2016.”
She snatches it back. “Okay, so I can’t afford the fancy cards. But don’t make fun of me.”
I bring her to the couch, bring her in my lap. I pull open the deck and look over the cards. I’m not going to give her a hard time over what she likes, because I sure as hell don’t need her to grill me on my interests.
“I honestl
y don’t know anything about this stuff. Growing up I was interested in hunting and fishing.”
“At some point you were interested in more, though, right? You’re a businessman now.”
“True,” I say, pulling the cards from the box. “But I still like the outdoors. That’s where the red magic in the world is, at least in my eyes.”
“This isn’t magic … it’s an assurance that everything is going to be okay,” Sophie says. Her words strike me as odd until I remember that she has no one in the world looking after her; she never has. The cards are her comfort.
I look at the cards, trying to understand my wife. “The illustrations are pretty.”
“I like to pluck a card at random,” she tells me. “See if it can help guide me for any given day.”
“Can I try?” I ask.
Het eyes light up. “Sure.” She takes them from me and shuffles them. “Okay, pick one.”
I pull one at random and smile when I see what it is. “The Lovers card. That good?”
Sophie squeals. “That’s so … romantic.” She takes the card from me and looks at it more closely. “This card represents relationship and choices. Whatever decision you make about a lover shouldn’t be made lightly.”
I watch her, knowing this matters to her, my ability to take her seriously. “Maybe you can help me, I have a decision to make — not about this relationship.”
“What decision is it?”
“I have to decide if I should sell a parcel of land today. I have an offer on it, or if I should keep it.”
Sophie twists her lips. “You want to ask the cards?”
I look at her. “Do you trust them?”
She nods.
I kiss her. “Well, I trust you.”
“Then ask a question and draw.”
“Okay, I want to know if I should keep the land.”
She flares the deck and I pull a card with a picture of the sun. Sophie laughs. “You should keep it. The Sun card is always a yes.”
“Alright. I’ll make the call.”
The Mountain Man’s North Star: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance Page 3
