Page 39 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

JULIAN

T he whir of the hair dryer hasn’t stopped but I’m still pulling food out of the fridge. Cecilia is bound to be hungry when she leaves the bathroom. Fuck knows I’ve worn her out over the past three days and this morning was no different.

I woke up early, as always. But today my wife’s gorgeous naked body was stretched out beside me and I watched her sleep for a little while. Jealousy stabbed at me over the idea that any other man has ever seen her like this. No one ever will again.

Keeping in mind all the ways I’d exhausted her the night before, I crept out of bed to let her rest beneath her cozy weighted blanket and sat in the kitchen nook to review the latest security footage and take a look at my messages.

Lately our affiliates have reaching out to me more often when their pleas to my father are ignored.

They are smart to word their requests carefully.

No one would dare suggest that Cass Tempesta is losing his edge.

Soon enough, Cecilia rolled over in her sleep with a breathy moan and I couldn’t stay away anymore.

My tongue was between her legs by the time she was fully awake.

She came within two minutes and was still quivering when I carried her to the shower and fucked her against the wall.

I hadn’t brought a condom along so when I got close, I pulled out to finish with my hand.

But my wife stopped me. She flashed a knowing smirk as water beat down on our heads. And then she dropped to her knees and took me in her mouth.

As I watched her swallow, I understood for the first time why the past is speckled with tales of men who’d set entire kingdoms on fire for their women.

I wouldn’t hesitate to do this and more, all for her.

I’m still working on putting together a rather eclectic brunch when the bathroom door swings open.

Cecilia emerges with her long hair newly dry and floating halfway down her back.

She’s wearing a simple yet sexy dress in a light shade of pink with thin straps and stretchy fabric that molds to all the best places on her body. She’s not wearing a bra.

Fucking perfection. I know I’m staring. I have no plans to stop.

Cecilia laughs at the sheer volume of food spread out on the table. “Did you haul out every leftover dish that was in the fridge?”

I pull out a chair for her. “I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for so take your pick. Enzo will send more food over today.”

“Are we eating here?”

“Sure. Where else?”

Instead of sitting, she slides her arms around my waist and smiles up at me. “Maybe there’s a better option.”

My dick is highly interested but I don’t want to give her the impression I’m insatiable.

Then again, I’ve just spent three days proving that this is exactly what I am.

I pluck a frothy looking flower from a nearby vase, break most of the stem off and tuck it behind her right ear. “We could eat out on the balcony. Would you like that?”

Her fingers touch the flower in her hair and her smile grows brighter. “I found a picnic basket in the pantry yesterday. Can we have a picnic by the creek?”

She kills me with requests like this. Making her happy is so easy that I can’t help but feel amazed. I’ll never refuse her.

We pack up a picnic of cold chicken, Caprese salad and fruit. Cecilia brings a throw blanket and fans it out on a grassy strip near the water.

The creek bubbles along at a slow, steady speed. She kneels on the blanket and watches the water. A breeze lifts strands of her hair as she gazes dreamily at the scene.

This girl belongs in a painting. She should be immortalized. Worshipped. I’d stare at her forever and never get bored.

“How deep is the water?” she asks.

“Less than three feet in the center right now.” I unscrew a thermos of sweetened iced tea. “It’s shallow but it can get a lot more swollen after some hard rain so keep that in mind.”

“Not deep enough to swim in, I guess,” she says. “I meant to ask, is there a gym with a pool in Vigilance?”

“There is not,” I admit, remembering what she told me about how swimming is her physical therapy. I’m planning to surprise her but I don’t want to mention it just yet.

“Oh well.” She smiles and accepts a glass of iced tea. The flower is still in her hair. The right strap of her dress shifts slightly and kickstarts my pulse.

My eyes swerve lower to roam over the contours of her breasts. I love how she’s no longer modest around me, foregoing a bra, even allowing the scars on her left leg to show without rearranging her dress.

“What are you looking at, Julian?” she teases and pops a marble-sized ball of mozzarella cheese into her mouth.

“I’m looking at my wife.” And I’ll look all I want.

Confronted with my blunt stare, her eyelashes flutter and her cheeks flush.

“I like it when you call me that,” she says softly and peels the lid off a container filled with cut melon.

“Good.” I take her chin in my hand to command her full attention. “You are my wife, Cecilia. I’ll make sure to say the word every day if it makes you happy.”

“It does make me happy, Julian.”

Somehow, I’m slightly choked up. I tell myself to burn this moment into my memory because I’ll want to revisit it again. Before releasing her, I brush a gentle kiss over her soft lips.

Moments later, a pair of sandhill cranes touch down on the opposite side of the creek.

Cecilia couldn’t be more elated if they were bald eagles.

We eat in silence to avoid disturbing the birds as they drink from the creek and peck in the damp dirt along the bank.

In time, they get spooked by rustling noises in the woods behind them and take off with an audible rush of wings that shivers the chokecherry leaves.

“What’s out there?” Cecilia stares at the opposing creek bank and inches closer to me.

“Maybe a fox,” I say. “Or a white-tailed deer.”

“Oh.” She exhales with relief.

“But there’s a pistol at the bottom of the picnic basket if anything with bigger teeth shows up.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Would you believe I’ve never fired a gun before?”

“Do you want to learn?”

Her nose scrunches up. “I don’t think so.”

“How about if the gun had no bullets?”

She laughs. “Maybe.”

I flip open the picnic basket and rummage through the containers until I find the Colt revolver I packed on the bottom. Cecilia drinks her iced tea and watches.

“Come here.” I kneel on the blanket and motion for her to sit in front of me.

Once she’s settled, I unfold my legs and brace them around her body.

My cock perks up and throbs in my jeans.

That can’t be helped. Touching her always gets me hard.

Careful to keep the muzzle pointed away, I cautiously open the chamber and unload the bullets in front of her.

I gather them in one hand and drop them on the blanket.

“Do you see how the chamber is empty?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Always check for yourself. Even if I’m the one who hands you a gun you still always check the chamber yourself.”

“Got it.”

I raise the weapon. “Notice how my hands are positioned.”

She leans back into my chest and nods her head.

I cock the hammer and fire at the brush on the opposite bank. Naturally, nothing happens except an empty click but Cecilia flinches anyway.

I fire again. Another click. This time she doesn’t cringe.

After the third time I’ve pulled the trigger, her tension has disappeared. She’s so warm and her shampoo smells like fresh rainwater. Being this close to her is driving me wild no matter how much I try to stay focused.

“Now you try.” I position her hands on the gun and then let her hold it alone.

She cocks the hammer back. I rest my palm on her leg. There’s a long slit in the dress and I touch bare skin. My other hand moves up to her shoulder and finds the thin strap of her dress. Casually, I slide it down.

Her breath catches. She raises the gun and fires it.

I push her hair aside and press my lips to her bare shoulder. The hand that touches her leg goes exploring, shoving aside inconvenient fabric and finding the smooth, tender skin of her inner thigh.

“Do it again,” I whisper in her ear.

Another click. Her pussy is now cupped in my hand, slick and hot.

“No panties.” I cluck my tongue and tease her with two fingers. “Were you hoping to get fucked again, honey?”

“Yes,” she hisses and lowers the gun. Her head rolls back against my shoulder and her soft moan is fucking porn fuel.

I get to work, relentlessly stroking. Now that I’ve been schooled in exactly what she likes, I can get her to the brink in no time. “I’ll let you come if I can watch you practice shooting. Then we can both get what we want.”

“Okay,” she whispers and shakily raises the gun.

“Fire again, Cecilia.”

She steadies the gun, cocks the hammer back and fires. Bullets or not, watching her pull the trigger is hot as shit.

My fingers continue to move inside of her while my free hand unfastens my jeans.

“Again, Cecilia.” I push my hand inside my briefs.

Now my cock is in one hand. And I’m fingering her with the other hand.

“You’re good at this,” I encourage her, kissing her neck. “Show me more.”

There’s still a faint mark on her neck, made on our wedding night by my mouth. It belongs there, just like my ring belongs on her finger. I’ve never wanted to keep anything as badly as I want to keep her.

“Julian,” she gasps.

She’s quaking now, straining to urge my fingers deeper.

“Show me,” I command, this time more sharply.

She lifts the gun, aims haphazardly, fires another empty chamber. Then she drops it on the picnic blanket and turns around. My fingers are briefly displaced and she’s in a fever, tugging at my shirt until I yank it off.

My cock is already free and I shove her dress down to her waist. She always feels like a dream and I’m half out of my mind as I suck her tits. She pulls me down on top of her, not that I need any urging.

“My god, Julian,” she moans and impatiently bends her knees, opening her legs. “Why can’t I ever get enough of you?”