Page 102 of Stolen Matrimony

Cashlynn cleared her throat. “Before we do that, I want to make something perfectly clear. We’re here for you to pierce and that’s it. No fondling or funny shit.” She pulled her knife out and placed it on her lap. “Let me see anything unprofessional and you won’t like the outcome.”

Cashlynn’s words sent a chill down my spine but also caused blood to rush to my dick. She stared at the girl with a look that could freeze the sun. Fright filled the piercer’s eyes as they widened. She looked from me and Cashlynn. I shrugged and pulled my dick out.

The girl swallowed hard and wet her lips. “I-I p-p-promise no funny stuff.” She lowered her eyes to the blade.

I shook my head and reached over, tapping Cashlynn’s hand. “Now, now wife. No need to be jealous. Remember,youmade this bet.” I faced the piercer again. “I want to get the frenum.”

Cashlynn glared at me. “Just make sure you two keep it cute.”

Smirking, I sighed and shook my head. Getting my dick pierced wasn’t exactly something I saw for myself, but I was a man of my word. I lost so I was gonna take the punishment like a man. Plus, I had done some research on the different types you could get and the one I chose would be beneficial to the both of us.

____

I was scrolling through my phone when something was tossed on the bed, gaining my attention. My brow raised seeing Cashlynn kneeling in front of me.

“I’m not supposed to have sex or anything until my dick heals more, but if you’re down I’m not gonna turn you down.”

She poked her lips out and rolled her eyes. “That isn’t what I’m doing.” She pushed up the sleeve of my short sleeve shirt.

I watched as she removed the dressing on it then reached for the bag on the bed. “This is a surprise.”

“You took a bullet for me so I figured I can make sure your wounds don’t get infected.” I grinned as I watched her care for the wound. It had only been a couple of days since my shooting and I didn’t plan on her being my personal nurse. She moved like a pro, which, knowing her background, I wasn’t shocked.

“You parents showed you how to do this?” I asked.

She didn’t miss a beat as she redressed the wound. “Yeah. When I was thirteen, I got shot in my leg. My parents put me through some stupid ass training drills and I got too cocky thinking I couldn’t be touched. It was just a flesh wound but my mom showed me how to clean and dress it if I ever found myself in trouble.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “What the fuck! Your parents raised you like you were going to war.”

She snorted. “War probably would have been easier than growing up with them. I wasn’t allowed to be weak in my parents’ house. With the job we did, I never knew when things could go south so I always had to be prepared.”

Her words sounded routine, almost as if they were drilled into her. “That’s fucked up.”

She shrugged and moved to grab the bottom of my shirt. Instead I beat her to it and lifted it. “Help me take it off.”

Her eyes flicked up to me before nodding. I winced at the slight pain that shot through my arm.

“When did you become the Queen of Hearts?”

“I was seventeen when I took my first solo job. I wanted my work to be known, but my identity to stay hidden.”

“So where did the name come from? The whole card thing?”

She paused after removing the dressing from my side. “Believe it or not I lovedAlice in Wonderland. I thought the Queen of Hearts was a bad bitch with how she took over Wonderland and had everyone scared of her, so I used that name and the cards. Just became my signature.” She shrugged.

I was astonished, not only at her answer but that she’d chosen to share that information with me as well.

“I would have never guessed that.”

“I didn’t have much of a childhood, but the small moments I was able to experience I cherished.” This time her voice was small.

I stared down at my wife, watching as she expertly cleaned and redressed my wound. It felt like another layer was peeled off the onion sitting here talking to her. It was clear she wasn’t used to opening up and showing any vulnerability because she made sure to keep her eyes on the wound and avoid my gaze.

When she was finished, she went to stand. “There, you’re good now.”

“Hold up.” I stopped her, reaching out to grab her collar. I pulled her forward. “Thank you for that.”

She shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”