Authors: K.L. Kreig
I hate the awkwardness now hovering heavily between us.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asks absently, running his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. Traces of anger make his already husky voice even huskier.
Would it always be like this when our family was together? Awkward? Uncomfortable? Tension so thick you could carve out the center with a spoon, leaving the rest intact?
Yes, as long as you’re in love with his brother and he’s in love with you. You caused this, Maverick. If you had done the right thing from the beginning…
When we’re alone, just the two of us, we can almost pretend that we both entered into this marriage with honorable intentions, when we both know we didn’t. I wanted someone else. He wanted me, regardless.
But when we’re with our families, feigning to be this solid, madly in love newlywed couple—or maybe it’s just I who pretend—we unravel. We let others tug on our stray threads; try to rip us apart at the seams. If we let them, they will ruin us. And I don’t want to end up broken, sad, and filled with loathing for someone I’ve loved since the day I was born.
I will not let Killian or my sister or even
me
destroy this marriage.
“Nothing,” I eventually answer. His head swivels, his intense, fiery, toffee gaze gluing fast to mine. The whirling combination of conflict I see—
feel
—nearly buckles my knees. This hurts him.
I’m
hurting him. So damn much.
We’ve never once spoken of the feelings between his brother and me. Not one time. And I have to wonder why he’s never confronted me about that dirty shame, especially before he asked me to marry him. I used to think it was either blind stupidity or irrational denial, but now I think it’s because Kael is a good man. Possibly a better man than I ever gave him credit for.
He loves me unconditionally. No matter what. It’s a constant I can count on.
Emotions slam into me. I am suddenly overcome with an insatiable need to soothe his ache, prove my worthiness as his chosen life mate. Be what he needs, wants, and more importantly, deserves.
I vow to work harder on what needs fixing inside me. As much as you want to or should, you can’t stop loving someone just because you tell yourself to. I wish it worked that way.
In the meantime, he needs reassurance that I’m bound to him and him alone. That I’m in this for the long haul. That he made the right decision marrying me. And he needs it now, not later.
Reaching behind me, I undo the zipper holding my dress together, letting it pool on the floor. His eyes track my every move, turning molten as I unclasp my bra and let it fall down my arms, leaving myself standing before him in mint-green panties and four-inch red spiky heels that scream “do me now.”
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky.
I let my eyes drop to his package, happy to see the heavy outline of it now prominent in his tan dress pants. “I think that’s pretty obvious,” I reply saucily, not moving an inch…waiting to see what he’ll do next.
“You want me to fuck you in your parents’ laundry room?” he asks in disbelief, his forehead scrunched.
God help me, I do. I didn’t realize until this very second how much I
want
this. Want him. And I want him to want me regardless of any of the shit outside of this moment.
I try to inject confidence in my answer when I don’t feel an ounce of it. I’m terrified he’s going to refuse me. “Yes.”
“Anyone could be right outside that door, listening,” he adds on a dare, cocking his head. We both know who he means.
“And?” I smugly kick back the challenge into his court.
His eyes flare right before they hood. I watch his throat work to swallow. He has to try twice. When his voracious gaze kisses its way down my practically nude curves, stopping for long seconds on my tight, straining nipples, my stomach trembles. My entire being vibrates with hunger for my husband.
“Slip your hand under those panties and stroke a finger through that pussy, Mavs. If you’re wet enough, then I’ll fuck you. Right here and now.”
Uhhh…okay? That made me gush.
Knowing if I do this, I’m about to get what I want, I obey, sliding my middle finger through my thick arousal before bringing it out to show him that I am, in fact, desperate for him.
“Suck it off.”
Wait.
What?
I blink rapidly, trying to make sure I’ve heard him right. Kael’s talked dirty to me before, plenty of times, but he’s never been so dominating or authoritative. And the fact that he’s chosen this place and time to turn that side of him on is not lost on me.
He spreads his sinewy legs wide, leans his backside against the window ledge, and crosses his arms. “If you want me to bend you over this counter and fuck you until you can’t walk straight, stick that finger in your mouth, Maverick. Now.”
“Shit,” I breathe. I’m so damn turned on right now.
It takes a third silent prodding—his brow quirking—before I finally comply. Lifting my glistening finger to my mouth, I actually groan when the muskiness touches my tongue. My mouth waters, but only because the primal rumble that leaves the back of his throat is just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“So fucking hot,” he mutters. Palm up, he commands, “Come here.”
I practically run, leaving my clearance Gap dress in a puddle by the door. Not having to worry about wrinkles or dust on a two-thousand-dollar garment is why I shop at places like the Gap, unlike my sister.
“You are so beautiful.” The second he has me ensconced in his arms, he rains kisses over my jaw, my throat, and my collarbone before working his way downward. “So fucking perfect and beautiful, Mavs. I can’t get over the fact you’re really mine.”
“I am,” I admit on a long rush of air when his lips close around a pert bud, sucking so hard I have to stifle a gasp.
“I will never get enough of these. They’re perfection.” A cool trail is left behind as he makes his way to my other aching breast. My hands fly to the back of his head, holding him to me as he feasts.
Throbbing everywhere, I writhe and shift, trying to get closer to him. My entire body feels liquid, weightless. The energy surrounding us thrums with potent electricity. So much so I’m sure everyone outside these four walls will have to sense what’s going on in here. I’ve never felt so uninhibited and wanton in my life.
He tugs on the lace around my hips. “I’m going to ruin these and eat my fill of my wife first.”
“God, yes,” I beg, wanting that more than oxygen.
Cool air hits my heated core at the same time Kael drops to his knees and spreads first my legs then my lips wide. With no warning, he dives in headfirst.
At the first swipe of his tongue from back to front, I moan loudly, “Oh shit, Kael.” My knees buckle under the weight of pleasure pushing down on me as the feel of his mouth works me up. The contrasting feelings are confusing and thrilling. I chase them, needing to feel this high more than anything.
When he slips a finger inside, I claw at his short strands, trying to hold on to anything for purchase. He’s doing diabolical things to my clit with this tongue right in the center of the room and I have nothing else to hold me up but him.
As if sensing my predicament, he tightens his grip on my hips with his other arm and mumbles against me, “I’ve got you, Maverick. I always do. Let go,” before jumping back in to finish the job.
I gasp. I squirm. I cry out softly as he pushes me to places I want him to take me. When he plunges a second finger inside and hooks them forward, I cry out. Sharp and loud.
I’m almost there when Kael reaches behind him and fumbles for a few seconds before the whir of the dryer comes on. “What are you doing?” I pant, completely breathless, pissed my orgasm is now running in the opposite direction.
He stops everything and looks up at me. Lips wet. Eyes wild. Fuck, he’s sexy. “I don’t care if they know what we’re doing, but I don’t want them to hear it. The sound of you coming undone belongs to me.
Only
me.”
“Oh.” I heard his unspoken meaning. “Okay.”
“Now be a good girl and come all over my face, Mavs, so I can fuck you hard.”
I let a smile slowly curve my lips, loving this foul-mouthed, dirty side of my husband. “Your face has to be buried in my pussy for that to happen, Kael.”
I laugh. But it’s short-lived because my taunt did its job. Kael’s mouth is back on me and if I thought he was focused before, he is absolutely ferocious now. With single-minded intent, he devours me. There’s no other way to describe it.
And then I’m coming. Crazy hard. Long. Probably so loud I could wake the dead if the dryer wasn’t humming in the background. White-hot heat rushes from my middle up the length of my spine, down the expanse of my arms and legs. I chase it while it spreads and radiates through every cell until I’m nothing but a liquefied mass of utter, glutted bliss.
“Holy God,” I heave, trying to gulp fresh air into my lungs. I’m now sitting on the marble countertop, the cold rock trying to steal the warmth still flowing through my blood. Kael is furiously stripping out of his clothes, also uncaring about wrinkles or dirt as he throws them to the ground.
My muscles are strung tight and I would think it’s because of the viciously beautiful climax that just ripped through me. It’s not. It’s the raw hunger Kael has on his face. It’s so brutal, it’s unnerving.
“I thought you were going to bend me over,” I jibe, trying to lighten the heavy mood. He steps into me, grabs my hips, and drags me so I’m perched right on the edge. I have to tighten my stomach muscles to hold myself there.
“I’d rather watch your face bliss out when I make you come again, instead.”
“Yeah?” I gasp when he runs the crown of his dick through the wetness between my legs, pushing in ever so slightly. Kael is mighty and thick. Each time he’s inside me, he stretches me to the breaking point.
“Oh fuck, yeah,” he responds smugly, pressing in another teasing inch.
Hasius Crepes, he feels good.
I run my fingers down the slight trail of hair on his bare, buff chest. His abs ripple as I descend past them to grip the base of his cock. “That’s a pretty lofty goal, husband, but I’m not sure…”
His nostrils flare. I’m not sure if it’s at my use of the word husband or if it’s a challenge he’s seen laid before him that he’ll pick up and run with. I’m not generally a multiple-orgasm type of girl, no matter how hard he tries. It’s not him. He probably thinks it is. It’s how I’m wired. But Kael loves a good challenge. And he’s taking this as one. Leaning in, his lips a hair from mine, he whispers, “I
am
sure. And I’m nothing if not generous,
wife
.”
On that promise, with his mouth fastened to mine, Kael enters me. Harsh and abrupt. I’m so damn wet and ready for him he slides in with ease. He fucks me with swift, sure strokes before switching to long, languid ones. He alternates smoothly, balancing me on a knife’s edge no matter which way he’s taking me. Over this past couple of months, I’ve come to appreciate how amazing Kael is, not only as a friend but as a lover. The more he’s inside me, the more it feels as if I’ve been missing out all along.
As much real estate as Killian is still taking up, Kael’s quickly buying him out. I do believe I’m actually falling in love with my husband, slowly but surely.
“You feel phenomenal,” he praises quietly. “So slippery, so hot, so fucking unreal. So mine.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
Don’t ever freaking stop.
He’s just hit his stride, well on his way to showing me he means to give me that second orgasm when we hear footsteps approaching the door. He stops mid-drive and throws a hand over my mouth before I can protest.
A light rap accompanies a deep boom. “Tenderheart, everything okay in there?”
Oh shit. I feel like a sixteen-year-old getting busted making out with J. C. Ferrera on the back porch swing. Except instead of J. C.’s hand halfway up my blouse, this time, I’m buck-ass naked with my husband’s dick buried inside me and only a flimsy,
unlocked
door between us and authority. I’m not doing anything immoral, but it’s probably considered uncouth to fuck in the middle of the day in your parents’ house with them home. Even for married people.
“Get rid of him or he’s gonna get an eyeful,” Kael drawls with a chuckle.
Kael removes his hand and smirks, resuming his thrusts, but this time they’re agonizingly slow and deep and feel so mind-blowingly good, I almost moan my reply to my father.
“You can’t be serious,” I hiss, wishing I had modesty within my reach. His grin only widens and he does some swivel thing with his hips he’s not done before, making me whimper. “Stop.” Grabbing two ass cheeks, I try to halt his movements, but all he does is shackle my wrists between his fingers and drag them behind my back not giving me a second to catch my breath.
“Maverick, everything all right?” my father’s concerned voice resounds.
Crap. I know that tone. He’s about two seconds away from opening the door. Growing up in a house with three women, my daddy learned pretty quickly not to just barge in. My two minutes are just about up.
“Yes, Daddy. Fine,” I manage to choke out.
“You sure? You sound…upset.”
Upset?
I’m so far from upset it’s ridiculous.
“Please stop. Just for a second,” I beg Kael. Blessedly he gives me a reprieve. But only a slight one. I wonder where this wicked man who’s now pumping his hips back and forth lazily has been all this time.
Racking my brain for a white lie, the sound of the dryer gives me the excuse I need. “Kael spilled water on his shirt. We just threw it in the dryer,” I yell, hoping I sound convincing.
I must. “Oh. Well, Arnie and Eilish just arrived and your mother has called the fifteen-minute warning, so…”
I roll my eyes at her stupid ritual. Within the next fifteen minutes we’d all better be sitting around the table in our assigned spots, palms clasped, eyes closed, ready to recite the mealtime prayer.
I hold in a moan when Kael’s finger lands on my oversensitive clit and starts rubbing small circles. I can’t do a damn thing to stop him because my own hands are still imprisoned, so I try my best to ignore the heat building in me once again, but
fuck, that feels so good
. “Uh, no problem. We’re almost done.”