Page 23

23

S he’s nervous. There’s a slight tremble in her hand as I lead her towards the open barn doors where my club brothers are already moving into line.

Earlier, she called us ruffians poetic, and while I don’t really agree with that, I will say, we do shit like weddings, fucking well.

The rumble of demons fills the air, a sound that speaks to my fucking dark soul. I can feel it in my chest, lighting a spark of mateship that can only be found in families like this.

My club.

“What’s happening?” Abbey asks quietly from beside me, so I give her hand a gentle squeeze, as she watches the men line their rides up on either side of the entrance, their headlights lighting up the centre, illuminating a path for us to take back to the house .

“It’s an aisle of honour,” I explain, gaining the attention of those caramel eyes I’m so at risk of fucking drowning in.

Something that looks a helluva lot like awe washes over her face, her gaze shifting back to take in the path.

“See,” she speaks softly and I can only just hear it over the rumble of the bikes. “Poetic.”

Chuckling, I drop her hand and sweep her up in my arms, ignoring her gasp as I carry my bride up the illuminated path.

The men cheer. The women clap. And I keep my focus on the steps at the end of the path and the door beyond it, knowing I’m finally going to claim my woman properly.

Abbey giggles as my sisters leap out of nowhere showering us in confetti, before my ma makes an appearance beside the front door to our home.

“You’re a good man, Cameron.” She reaches up and cups my face. “I’m so proud of you.”

I smile at my ma even as guilt sits heavily in my gut.

I’m not a good fucking man. Not even close.

Her pride is wasted on me, since this wedding is nothing but a way to protect Abbey.

So why does it feel like more?

Fuck. I want it to be more.

“Thanks Ma. We’ll see you in the morning,” I offer, and she nods, patting my cheek before stepping back and letting me pass.

The moment we disappear inside, my club cheers behind us, some crude obscenities flying amongst them as the chaos fades with each step I take.

My Angel’s hands are fisted in my shirt, gripping tightly like she’s afraid to let go, and the closer I get to my bedroom, the more noticeable her trembling becomes.

Shit.

I’m a patient man. We don’t have to consummate the marriage tonight or ever if she doesn’t want to. Hell, I’ll fuck my fleshlight for the rest of my miserable existance if I have to, but fuck, I want her. So fucking bad I ache with it. I want to sink inside her, feel her milk me. Stare into her eyes as we shatter together.

So, even though I know I can wait, I still want to push her a little to see how far she’ll let me go.

“Angel,” I rasp, stepping up to my door and entering the code, unlocking it. “Take some deep breaths for me.”

She nods, gripping my shirt tighter, her chest rising and falling like she knows what’s coming and has accepted it, but she’s struggling to remain calm.

I don’t fucking blame her.

After what she’s been through, I’m surprised I’ve managed to get as far as I have with her already. That she trusts me. That she’s here in my arms, shaking but staying.

Shit. It makes me want to protect her harder than I want to fuck her… almost.

Lingering in my doorway, I press my forehead to hers, just for a second. Just to feel her breath on my lips.

“You’re safe, baby. I got you.”

And I mean that more than anything I’ve ever said in my life.

She nods against me, a gentle whimper passing her lips, so I step into my suite, hearing the door click locked behind us and carry my wife into the living area, before lowering her to the sofa where she finally releases her death grip on my shirt.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Angel.” I eye her as I move to the kitchenette, taking out a cold beer and a bottle of water from the fridge. “We’re going to take things slow. You’re going to let me pleasure you, and do whatever it takes to have you begging for my cock.”

Approaching her with slow and deliberate steps, I hold out the bottle of water, her fingers brushing mine as she takes it, her caramel gaze never leaving mine.

“You think you can make me beg?” Her voice is quiet, yet laced with heat, and I smirk.

“Fuck yes, I do,” I growl, my voice thick with promise. “Angel, I can make you so fucking horny, there’ll be no way you won’t want my cock buried deep inside you.”

Her lips part, cheeks flushing that gorgeous shade of pink, and I know my words are already steering her exactly where I want her.

“See. It’s already working isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Liar.” I chuckle, taking a swig of my beer as I lean against the wall by the guitars. “Pull up your dress, Angel. Show me your pussy.”

Her brows hitch, and she chokes on the water she was trying to swallow, slapping her hand against her chest.

“You can’t just say that.” She coughs again, eyes wide.

“Why not?” I step closer, my voice rough. “You’re my wife. We’re in our private space. We are both insanely attracted to each other. My cock is hard basically twenty-four seven when you’re around.” I watch her lips part as she sucks in a breath. “I’ve heard you come . Watched the way your face looks almost pained when it hits. I’ve tasted you. Eaten you.” I pause, letting my words simmer for a beat. “I fucking married you even after you imagined me as one of your fucking boy band crushes.”

She smirks at that, and I can’t help but smirk too. Hers cocky, mine feral.

“So yeah, Angel. I want to see your pussy. I want to see how wet you are right now. I want you to hitch up that dress, part those thighs, and show me your sweet, pink cunt .”

She stiffens at the word, just as I expected, so I move slow. Calm and deliberate.

Placing my beer down, I start shucking off my cut, keeping my eyes locked on hers.

“I know you hate that word, Angel, but let me ask you something.” I step closer, watching her head tip back to keep her eyes locked with mine. “When I say it, does it sound as crude as the times you heard it from those dead fucking men walking?”

For a long moment, she simply watches me, her gaze falling to where I unbutton my shirt, her grip tight on the bottle of water in her hands.

“Answer me, Angel,” I demand, and this time her gaze flicks back to mine.

“I’m… not sure.” Her voice is soft, but not so scared now. “Say it again.”

Fuck. There she is. My curious Angel.

“I want you to hitch up that dress, part those thighs, and show me your sweet, pink cunt .”

Her lips part as a breath whooshes from her, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Shifting on the couch, she slowly places the bottle of water on the floor, watching as I continue to tease her, peeling off my shirt.

Gathering the satin fabric of her dress, she slowly lifts it, finally revealing her bare pussy.

My cock jerks at the sight of her naked flesh, reminding me that I never gave her panties back earlier, and as I pop the button on my pants, she shifts her legs wider to open herself up to me.

“Fuck, Angel. You can be such a good girl when you want to be.”

Her cheeks are glowing, but she doesn’t stop, leaning back into the cushions to make sure I can see every single inch of her glistening cunt.

“You’re soaked. Again,” I rasp, toeing off my boots and kicking them to the side. “Are you aching, Angel? Do you need me to touch you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers with so much need that I have to fight the fucking urge to lunge at her.

“Do you want me to touch you with my fingers?” I ask, holding my hand up and wiggling my digits. “Or perhaps my tongue?” I slide it out, licking my lips and noticing how her dainty hands grip her thighs tightly. “Or perhaps, you want me to use this?”

Easing my fly down, I reach into my boxers and free my rock hard cock, giving it a pump for good measure.

Her lips part, her fingers dig into her thighs, right before she snaps her legs closed.

Shit.

This might be harder than I thought… but I’m not one to back down from a challenge though.

Stepping forward, I watch how she stiffens, but she doesn’t retreat, so I pump my cock again a few times, keeping her attention on it as I close in.

“You can touch it if you like. You didn’t mind having it in your hands back at the Western.”

She bites her lip, and I know exactly what’s running through her head.

She’s remembering the night I woke up to her touching me. Exploring my body with her fingers, letting her curiosity control her.

“Did you like feeling my cock in your hands, Angel?”

She nods absentmindedly, and I notice her legs easing apart again, like the idea of my cock is no longer so terrifying.

“Touch me,” I demand, hoping I’m not pushing her too quickly, but then she obeys, reaching out to gently grip my cock, and I let my hand fall away, giving her all the control.

“Fuuuck, Angel. I love feeling your hand around me.”

Her big doe eyes dart up to mine as she shifts forward on the sofa, her dainty hand slowly pumping me, sliding up and down my shaft, over and over.

A drop of precum beads on my tip, so I decide to push her a little further.

“Lick it.”

There’s a flicker of panic in her eyes, but she quickly masks it, a slight frown tugging at her brows like she’s having a silent argument with herself.

Does she want to run?

Or does she want to stay and burn with me?

“Just a taste, Angel. I fucking ache to feel your tongue on me.”

Those caramel orbs dart up to meet mine and I reach out, wrapping her pink ponytail around my hand.

Fuuuck. The way I could control her like this. Fisting her hair. Guiding her. Holding her in place. I fucking ache for it, but also, I’ve never been more terrified to take control in my life.

“You won’t force it in my mouth?” she asks, her voice so small. Pained. And fuck me, I want to back down. I want to fall to my knees and tell her she never has to do anything sexual again.

The thing is… she needs this. She needs to be presented with an opportunity to do the things that were used against her with someone she trusts.

She does trust me. I know it and she knows it but her trauma sits on her shoulders reminding her of something that should never have fucking happened.

“I will never force anything on you. Remember you have all the control here. You say stop, and we stop.”

She licks her lips, her grip tightening around my cock as she continues to stroke me up and down.

With a frown creasing her brow, her eyes zero in on the bead of precum on my tip.

“Should I have a safe word?” Her caramel gaze darts up to mine through the thick fan of her lashes. “That’s a thing, right?”

“Yeah. It’s a thing, but maybe, for you, we should use the traffic light method.”

Her hand stills as her gaze meets mine again.

“Traffic light method?”

“Angel, don’t stop,” I growl, and she giggles, before resuming attention to my cock. “Atta girl.”

Her blush returns, and it’s really no surprise she has a praise kink, even though she likely doesn’t know it .

“Traffic lights. Red for stop immediately. Orange for needing a break or pause. And green for everything is fucking good.”

She grins. “I like that idea.”

“Okay then, Angel. So, be a good girl and lick my cock.”

Her chest rises and falls as a rush of air escapes her, only this time I’m certain it’s from arousal.

With her gaze trained on the tip of my cock, I watch from above, my hand still wrapped in her hair, as she closes the distance and darts out her tongue, licking the clear bead off my tip.

“Fuuuck,” I rasp, holding back my need to do exactly what she asked me not to do.

I want in her so fucking bad.

“You want to put it in your mouth?” My voice is rough as fuck, but she shakes her head, licking her lips as she eases back. “Do you want to put it inside you anywhere?”

Fuck, is that desperation in my tone?

Calm the fuck down, Ringo!

I already know she’s going to shake her head before she does it, but that’s alright. We have all night. Fuck. We have as long as it fucking takes.

Releasing her hair, I peel her hand from around my shaft, an agonising feat if there ever was one, and then I kneel between her legs bringing us eye level.

“Kiss me, Angel. I want to taste myself on your tongue.”

Her eyes flare, my words doing something to her as she lurches forward, wrapping her arms around my neck to kiss me.

And I do fucking taste myself on her tongue. She makes sure of it as she sweeps hers into my mouth, moaning and shifting closer to me.

I haven’t had the opportunity to fully explore her body yet.

Back at the Western, she was always covered in my hoodie, hiding herself. Hiding her bump. Only once did she let me feel her tits, the fabric of my hoodie a barrier, yet still, I felt her nipple pebble underneath.

I’ve tasted her fingers after she masturbated for me, and just last night I tasted her pussy for real.

Tongue to clit.

Tongue sliding deep inside her cunt.

Fuck, even my fingers felt her heat wrapped around them.

But through it all, I’ve never seen her completely naked. I’ve never been able to explore the delicate skin of her entire body with my lips and tongue. And fuck I want to. I want to taste every fucking inch of her.

When we were at the Western, I now know she wasn’t just avoiding my touch because she was triggered by the idea, but she was trying to keep her pregnancy a secret.

Since the cat is out of the bag, I’m hoping like fuck she’ll let me explore her now. Maybe she’ll be a little hesitant the first time, but there’s no fucking time like the present.

Gliding the tips of my fingers over her collarbone, I concentrate on any signs of her stiffening or faltering as we kiss, to tell me if she’s not alright.

By the time I find her nipple, hard and straining against the ivory satin, we both moan into each other’s mouths, her hands sliding to my shoulders before her nails dig into my flesh.

“Do you know how long I’ve fucking ached to touch these, Angel?” I rasp against her lips, pinching the hard peak before she arches into my touch. “Fuck. You like that? ”

“Yes,” she whimpers against my lips, so I release it and blindly search for the strap of her dress, easing it off her shoulder slowly, waiting for her to stop me if she needs to.

When she doesn’t, I break our kiss completely, easing back to watch her lids flutter open.

“How do I get this dress off you?” I growl, and her lips kick up, like she’s trying not to laugh.

“It has a side zipper.” She gestures to her left, so I lift her arm to find it, unhooking the eye clip before easing the zip down.

For someone who was trembling only minutes ago, she’s now noticeably more relaxed, her trust in me growing as I part the fabric, revealing a hint of her side.

Fuck, I want to see all of her.

With the zip down, I slide the other strap off her shoulder, watching the rise and fall of her chest as her nervous excitement controls her.

“Colour?” I ask, and she blinks a few times before shaking her head.

“What?”

“Colour? Are you still green, Angel?”

“Oh… yes. Green. So green.”

I fucking love that she’s so green.

Fuck.

She’s my fucking wife now. For real. And yeah I know she’ll likely divorce my arse once this is all over but fuck, I’m going to enjoy every second of her until then.

With a hunger that almost scares me, I peel the front of her dress down, so achingly slow, revealing more of her cleavage. The plump swell of her tits has my mouth fucking watering, and the second I see the rosy colour of her nipples appear, I have to hold myself back from diving right fucking in.

My cock aches, my fingers twitch, and my tongue is fucking salivating to suck her pebbled peaks into my mouth.

A loud breath escapes her as I free each melon, exposing her tits as my eyes take everything in.

“Fuck…” I breathe, my mind turning to nothing but mush. “Your tits, they are…”

“Ugh. I know. They are fat, right? Being pregnant has made them so much bigger.”

My eyes flick to hers, and I can see she honestly believes that.

“Abs, what the fuck? They are perfect. Fucking delectable.”

“Delectable?” Her brows hitch.

“Yes. I want them in my fucking mouth.”

She whimpers, but arches, clearly wanting that too, so with a smirk, I shoot her a wink and dive in.

The moment my tongue flicks over her peak, she cries out, her hand coming to the back of my hair and latching on.

I moan over her nipple, the fingers on my other hand pinching her other one, the combined actions quickly making her writhe.

I swap tits, moving my mouth to the other while using my fingers to glide my saliva over the first nipple, eliciting another moan.

“Cam,” she cries, the swell of her stomach pressing against my chest, her inner ache obviously getting worse.

Pulling back, I quickly start tugging her dress down over her bump, and I’m surprised at how much she tries to help, like she can’t bear to be covered up anymore .

By the time I’m tugging it off her feet and tossing it somewhere behind me, my eyes are taking in her fully naked body for the first time.

For a moment… a long moment… I’m stunned.

Her breathing is rapid, her tits rising up and down, her nipples straining, and her cunt still glistening between her parted legs.

But that’s not what has me stunned.

It’s seeing her like this, the naked swell of her belly with her heavy tits… fuck.

“Ringo?” she whispers, and I can hear her uncertainty lacing that single word.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I admit honestly, meeting her eyes. “It makes me…”

She frowns when I trail off, shifting nervously on the sofa.

“It makes you what?” she asks.

“Fuck, Angel. It makes me want to be the one to make your body swell with my kid inside you.”

Her lips part and her eyes water, a frown puckering her brow.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” she protests, yet her voice is weak. Pained.

“Why the fuck not? I’m only being honest.”

“But… this isn’t real.” She gestures between us, and the sting of rejection starts to settle in.

But I know she’s not really rejecting me. She’s confused. By my feelings. By hers. By the way two people so opposite can mold together like a perfect fit.

“I said it three fucking weeks ago Angel, and I’ll say it again. This isn’t a ruse. Not to me. ”

For so long, she just stares at me. Her caramel eyes dancing between mine, roaming over my face like they can somehow detect a lie.

She’s been beaten down too often. Her feelings have been brushed aside too many times. She’s been betrayed by the people who she’s supposed to trust most in the world.

So, she needs reassurance, and I’ll fucking give it to her every day for the rest of my life if I have to.

“When you married me today,” she says softly, worry flicking over her expression, “were you doing it to protect me or because you really wanted to make me your wife?”

“Both,” I answer quickly. “Protecting you will always come first, but it wasn’t a hard fucking decision for me, Angel. I can’t explain it. I don’t even fucking understand it. But you are mine, and I am yours and I’ll fucking burn this world down to protect you, and the baby growing inside you.”

A sob escapes her, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, so I lean in, running my palms up her thighs as I press my lips to her forehead.

Her hands come to my chest, and I’m half expecting her to shove me away, but then they start roaming over my pecs, the tips of her fingers pinching my nipples this time.

“Cam,” she whispers, so I pull back to look into her glassy eyes. “I want you.”

I smirk. “Are you already begging for my cock, Angel?”

She laughs, slapping my chest, yet nodding at the same time.

“Fine. I’m begging for your cock.”

I growl, slipping my hand between her and the cushions, tugging her closer to me .

“Yeah you fucking are.” I’m smug as fuck, but also trying to calm the fuck down, because my nuts are tightening in anticipation and I don’t want to arrive too fucking early. “Let me get your greedy little body ready for me, Angel. I want to turn your pussy into a slip and slide for my cock.”

She laughs, but I swallow it by claiming her lips, and quickly steering her attention to where it needs to be.

Me. Her. My cock and her cunt.