Chapter Five
Cara has been outside under the cold shower for way too long. I need her to get the fuck back inside so I can find out why the fuck she did that. Why would she tell me she wasn’t a virgin if she was, and then impale herself on me while I was sleeping?
That’s not how she should have lost her virginity, and fuck, perhaps she shouldn’t have lost it to me, but here we fucking are. Even though I didn’t come inside her, I’ve never been happier to know she’s on birth control. I think the record Baz and Dante showed me said something about hormone control or some shit like that.
Inside my bathroom, I kick off my boxers and sit my junk in the sink, quickly washing Cara’s blood off. My cock is a bit raw. She was barely wet which is why I was so fucking confused about what she was doing when I woke up. She literally impaled herself. She wasn’t ready, and even though I was hard, neither was I. Why the fuck didn’t she let me touch her? I could have worked over her clit and made her slick for me in seconds, but instead, she slapped my hands away.
Fuck, I have no idea what’s going through her head, something that I need to fucking resolve now. I’ll shower later when I’ve had a fucking discussion with my wife.
A knock at the front door of my house makes me still, and I check the time on my watch. It’s only 8am. Who the fuck is here at this time of day?
Remembering we had a prowler last night, I quickly shuck on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and snatch up my gun as I hurry to the door.
“Who is it?” I snap, my gun pointed at the timber separating us.
“Officer Dudley,” the gruff male voice says. “I’m Mrs. King’s parole officer.”
I relax momentarily until I realize what this means.
Shit. The parole board believes this to be a real marriage. They stated that they will visit to confirm we are actually living as a married couple, as I am now responsible for Cara during her parole term.
We are definitely married. Just not happily or with Cara’s consent.
Quickly shoving my gun in the drawer by the door, I pull open the door to see a short man, round in the belly wearing a crisp navy suit and glasses sitting at the end of his nose.
“Hi,” I say, cracking the door.
“Oh. Mr. King, I presume?”
“Yes. You’re here to see Cara?” I ask dumbly, because obviously that’s why he’s here.
“Yes. I thought a surprise visit nice and early would be the best time to catch you both before you start your day.”
“Ah… Yes. Of course,” I mutter, looking briefly over my shoulder to the back door that Cara is still behind, showering. “My wife is currently showering. Would it be possible for you to come back later?”
“Oh, there’s no need for that.” He smiles, stepping forward and pushing against the door. “I can come in and wait.”
I want to punch him. Get my gun out and introduce him to that.
I can’t though. In order to ensure Cara follows her parole terms, she has to remain out of trouble, and therefore, so do I.
“Come on in.” I sweep my hand out, gesturing for him to enter even though he already fucking is. “Take a seat on the couch if you like. I’ll just let her know that you’re here.”
“Thank you.” He nods, moving to the couch while I make my way to the back door and duck outside.
My eyes immediately land on Cara’s shivering naked back as she stands under the stream of water.
Shit. She’s gonna freak when she knows I’m looking at her like this.
Glancing down, I see the towel draped over the back of the wicker chair and scoop it up before stepping up behind her.
“Don’t freak out and scream,” I say quietly, and she gasps, spinning wide eyed as she tries to cover her tits and cunt with her hands. I don’t look. I have the towel held out in front of me, ready to wrap her in.
“What are you—”
“Shhh.” I hush, moving closer to wrap the towel around her front. “Your parole officer is inside.”
“What?” she whisper-yells, and I nod, keeping my eyes on hers.
“He’s here. Wanted to catch the married couple before we start our day.”
Her mouth drops open as if she’s going to say something, but then she snaps it back shut.
“It’s okay.” I offer, leaning over to turn the cold water off at the tap. “I told him you were showering. I’ll say you went across to the water for a morning swim and you’re showering out here, so you don’t track sand through the house.”
She nods, her body still trembling from being so damn cold.
“Dammit, Cara. Why won’t you just use the shower inside where the water is hot?” My concern for her must surprise her, although I don’t know why, but her brows shoot high as her lips quiver.
“I-I like the c-cold.”
“You’re a terrible fucking liar,” I say quietly, reaching forward to brush a strand of her hair back, but she jerks away like I’m going to burn her if we touch.
“Jesus, woman. This guy needs to think we are married. When you step foot inside, you’d better turn into a good fucking actress.”
With that, I turn my back on her and go inside to entertain Mr. fucking Dudley while we wait.
“I thought you said Mrs. King was having a shower?” The man in question asks and I nod, moving to the cupboard to take down three mugs.
“Yes. She went for a swim over the road. She showers out back when she does that to avoid tracking sand through the house. That shit gets everywhere.”
Risking a glance at Mr. Dudley, I see him nod, happy with my answer.
“Coffee?” I ask, and he nods again.
“Black. No sugar.”
I set to work, putting the mugs in the microwave to heat before uncapping the lid on the coffee jar.
When the back door opens, both Mr. Dudley and I look up to find Cara walking in, fully dressed bar her bare feet, as she towel dries her hair.
“Oh. Mrs. King. Bruce Dudley. Your parole officer.” He moves into the kitchen, holding out his hand, and Cara just stares at it for a moment before she reluctantly takes it, like she’d rather touch anything else but him.
“Hi,” is all she says, and his lips thin.
Meanwhile, I try to focus on the task of making the coffee now that the water is heated.
I don’t know why Bruce tries to be so formal. He deals with ex-cons all the time and I’m sure the majority aren’t welcoming people.
“Let’s take a seat.” I gesture to the small two-seater table by the wall, and Bruce nods, making his way back out of my tiny kitchen.
“Can’t you make him leave?” Cara hisses at me quietly, and I shake my head.
“Nope. He’s your parole officer. Not mine.” I pick up a mug and hand it to her.
She takes it absentmindedly as she glares daggers in the back of Bruce’s head as he pulls out a chair and sits at the little table.
“Don’t forget to pretend to like me.” I grin, handing her the second cup.
She frowns now, her eyes dropping to the two mugs she holds while I pick up the third one.
I don’t know why I do it, but when I pass by her, I give her ass a light tap, and she goes to jerk out of the way, but remembers she’s holding two steamy hot cups of coffee, so she can’t go anywhere.
I chuckle as I pass by, but then her whispered words pull me up short.
“I could just expose you for the creepy dick that purchased a child bride. Then I won’t have to act and I won’t have to be your wife anymore.”
Slowly I turn back to peer at my wife, taking in her heated cheeks and tense pouty lips.
“Go for it, Killer.”
“I’ll do it.” She bares her teeth as she hisses at me, and I chuckle quietly.
“Even if Bruce believes you, he’s not the one pulling the strings. But go ahead. Waste my day and his. I’ll just end up back here by the end of the day, ready to take you to our marital bed to finish what you fucking started this morning.”
Dark eyes broadening wide, Cara goes to step past me, her nostrils flaring in anger, but I grip her biceps, pulling her up short and whisper in her ear.
“You don’t fucking know the hoops I had to jump through to get you released, but I can tell you, your only options are staying here with me, or going back to prison. Make the right choice, Cara.”
Knowing that the Bruce guy is staring at us, I lean forward and press my lips to her cheek, feeling how hot her skin burns under my touch.
Brushing past her, I walk over to Bruce and hand him his black coffee before taking the only other seat at the table.
Standing with a cup in each hand, Cara looks at me like she expects me to stand up and give her the seat.
I don’t.
I push the chair back a little more to make room and pat my leg.
“Come here, hun.”
Bruce beams across the table, and I tug Cara’s shirt, dragging her closer until she has no choice but to sit as she places the cups on the table in front of us.
“It’s always nice to see a couple reunited.” Bruce grins before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Relax,” I whisper against Cara’s ear, and when Bruce looks up, I give her ear a little nip.
I don’t really need to go to all this effort to put on a show for Bruce, but Cara doesn’t know that, and by the way a shiver runs down her spine and she sinks a little more into me, I’m fucking glad I’m overdoing it.
“Now, Cara. My records show you have gained employment at a place called Dirty Diamonds. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Cara nods and Bruce writes something on the notepad in front of him.
“What is Dirty Diamonds’ main business activity?” he asks, and Cara stiffens.
“Entertainment.” I answer for her, and Bruce nods, writing that down too.
“And what sort of entertainment?” he asks, his expression all business and no fucking fun.
“It’s a strip club.” Cara responds this time, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she watches Bruce’s brows hitch.
“A strip club?”
“Yes. Amongst other things.” She answers, and Bruce reaches up and tugs his glasses off.
“What is your job role there?”
I can see the glint in Cara’s eye as I peer around at her. She’s trying to cause trouble. And I just fucking know she’s about to announce that she’s a dancer.
“Cara does the book work.” I butt in, giving her thigh a pinch under the table, and Cara frowns, but doesn’t bother looking at me.
“Oh, good. You’re good with numbers then?” he asks Cara and she shrugs.
“It’s not hard.”
“Yes, it is,” I whisper against her ear, and she stiffens, shooting me a wide-eyed glare.
Luckily, Bruce is busy writing something and isn’t focusing on us, so I keep fucking going. Making sure to torment my darling wife.
“Can you feel it?” I whisper before giving my hips a minuscule thrust under her.
It’s not a lie. I am hard. My dick has been fluctuating between flax and hard ever since I woke up to have her riding my cock. It doesn’t fucking care that I’m a little tender there.
Fuck, she was so damn tight. I’m aching to squeeze my dick into her again. Next time, I’ll make sure she’s slick.
Bruce asks more questions, and for the most part, Cara behaves, answering what she can without hinting to the ruse and how we became husband and wife.
As Bruce goes over the appointments he’s booked for Cara to attend at his office in the coming weeks, I press my nose to her neck and inhale her sweet scent until I’m unable to hold back, and I press my lips to her neck.
“Insecto del amor,” Cara says sweetly, which sounds ridiculous falling from her lips. “Behave while we have a guest.”
What the hell does insecto del amor mean?
Fuck, that annoys me. Why haven’t I tried to learn some Spanish? She could have called me a dickless monkey for all I know.
Chuckling fakely along with Bruce, I’m fucking ecstatic when he puts his notepad away and stands.
“Well, thank you both. I’m glad to see you readjusting to life. You both seem very happy together.”
Cara gives a nervous laugh while I smile and nod, easing Cara off my lap so I can stand.
We say our goodbyes, and the moment I shut the door, a pillow from the couch slams into my head.
“Ouch,” I say even though it didn’t hurt.
“Eres un idiota,” she sneers, glaring at me.
Fuck, I like it when she’s angry.
“Did you just call me an idiot?”
“Yes!” she yells, grabbing another pillow and tossing it my way.
Dodging it, I charge for her, and I expect her to squeal and run, but she doesn’t.
No. Cara Rodríguez is not a scaredy cat, and if I were a smarter man, I’d be afraid.
Luckily I’m not smart.
“We need to talk.” I growl standing over her as she holds her chin high, not backing down.
“We have nothing to talk about.” She declares and goes to spin away from me, but I circle my hand around her bicep and hold her in place.
“You fucking know we do, Killer. You told me you weren’t a virgin. Then you took advantage of me, and I don’t believe your bullshit that it was a punishment for getting laid while you were locked up.”
“I’m on my period. That’s why there was blood. Don’t flatter yourself to think I would give someone like you my virginity. You’re a monster!”
Gripping both her arms now, I tug her flush with me and press my nose to hers until we are breathing the same fucking air.
“That wasn’t period blood, Cara. I felt the moment I broke your hymen. Why did you do that? If you wanted me, I could have made you feel fucking good.”
“I don’t want you!” she shouts. “Let me go!”
“No,” I hiss, leaning forward and hoisting her over my shoulder before she can run off.
“What are you doing? Let me down!”
I slap her ass for good fucking measure and walk us into the bedroom before tossing her on the bed with a bounce.
“Why wouldn’t you let me touch you?” I ask, and her lip curls as she hisses like a snake at me. “Goddammit, Cara. Just fucking answer me!”
“Because you don’t need to touch me to do the act!” she yells back, and I fall still.
What?
“The act?” I ask, my anger vanishing.
“Sex, you imbecile!”
What the fuck?
“What about foreplay?” I ask, and she frowns.
“What?”
“Foreplay. You know. Kissing. Cuddling. Touching.”
She just stares at me, her anger falling from her face.
“Cara, have you ever had an orgasm before?”
“What? I… Isn’t that for men?”
Holy fucking shit. Is she serious?
“Who told you an orgasm was just for men?”
For the first time since picking her up from prison, she looks as young as her nineteen years as her eyes drop to her outstretched legs.
“Mom said a wife’s duty is to please her husband and make sure that he is hard and feels good, and has an orgasm every time he wants one. Otherwise I’m not doing my job properly. She said there was no pleasure for me to have, and suffering through the pain of it every time was how I would get my satisfaction.”
“Fuck, Cara. She lied to you. That’s not how it’s meant to be.”
Her gray eyes dart up to meet mine again, and her lower lip trembles and tears well in her eyes.
She’s never looked more vulnerable than in this moment.
“It’s not?” she asks quietly, and I shake my head.
“Fuck, no. Yes, the first time or two will hurt for you, but if the man is doing his job properly, the pain will subside and be replaced with pleasure. Ecstasy.”
She shakes her head, confusion contorting her beautiful features.
“But my sister… she never felt good. It was always so… brutal.”
What the fuck!
“Cara, is that why you hurt yourself on me this morning?” I ask, not able to hide the concern in my voice.
“Well… Yes. It had to be done. You’re my husband, and I…” She trails off, and I can see that there’s more she wants to say, but she’s not ready to reveal it to me.
“If you had let me know what you were doing instead of just… doing it, I could have shown you how it’s meant to be. Especially for your first time. You must be so sore.”
Her cheeks flush crimson, and her eyes drop so I can’t see them, telling me without even saying the words that she is.
“I’m a little sore too.” I admit, hoping it will make her feel better.
Her gray gaze shoots back up through the fan of her dark lashes.
“You are?”
“Yes. Even though you think you were ready to take my cock, you weren’t. I could have helped with that. Made you feel good so your… insides were ready.”
Fuck, right now I feel like I’m talking to the sixteen-year-old girl that I married three years ago. How has she not learned this stuff, even in prison?
“But isn’t it wrong for me to feel good? Isn’t it meant to hurt?” she asks on a whisper and my heart fucking aches for her. For the lies she’s been told by her own fucking parents.
“Fuck no.” I rush out, quickly kneeling on the end of the bed at her feet. “Let me show you that it can be the complete opposite.”
“W-what? How?”
“Let me touch you. Give me permission to pleasure you.”
Shaking her head frantically, Cara shuffles up the bed more until her back hits the headboard.
“Okay,” I say, holding my hands up. “Let’s try something different. How about you touch yourself?”
Her eyes widen. “No. I can’t. That’s not allowed. It’s dirty.”
“You can. It’s normal. Trust me, everyone masturbates. It’s as natural as the act of sex itself.”
Still, she shakes her head.
“Okay, then. Just watch,” I say, standing from the bed and tugging off my shirt. Her eyes widen but she doesn’t say anything, so I toss my shirt aside and tug down my shorts.
My hard cock springs free, the fucker already geared up to please her, and part of me hates that I’m so hard given the situation. But it’s her. The way she looks at me with those big eyes, so innocent yet curious. She’s fucking trusting me right now, and apparently, my dick likes that.
“Oh. Wait. What are you doing?” She looks panicked, but I hold up my hands and turn my naked body from side to side, hoping it will distract her.
“Let me show you how I get myself off. What I do in the shower each morning and night while I think about you.”
Wrapping my hand around my shaft, I keep my eyes trained on Cara’s as she stares at my engorged cock, and absentmindedly licks her lips.
“You think about me?” she asks, quietly, and I nod.
“Yes, I do. And doing this feels so good.” I tell her, pumping my cock, slowly turning to the side so she can get a better look at what I’m doing. “I imagine it’s your hand. I imagine you on your knees sucking my dick into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing as you suck me down as far as you can go. I imagine thrusting into your mouth, hearing you gag a little as I watch you watching me. Your eyes will water, but it’s so fucking beautiful, that I can barely hold back.”
Sucking her lips into her mouth, Cara shifts on the bed, pressing her thighs together.
“Do you feel it, Killer? Deep down in your cunt. A flutter. A hot gush. The need that you want something more.”
“Yes.” She breathes, and fuck, pre-cum rolls from my tip at her words.
Climbing on the end of the bed, I kneel in front of her, running my thumb over the bead of pre-cum.
“See this? It’s my cock telling me that it’s ready for more.” I hold up my thumb. “You want a taste?”
She shakes her head, but her breathing deepens, and her eyes don’t leave my cock and she presses her thighs together again.
“Just touch yourself.” I suggest, and she shakes her head, even as she squeezes her legs tight.
“I promise it will feel good. Just pull your pants down and press your fingers to your clit.”
Her dark eyes meet mine again now, and I nod. “It’s okay. I promise I won’t touch you. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want me to do.”
I jerk my dick faster, and that seems to spur her on. She quickly shuffles around until her panties and leggings are at her ankles, and then she toes them off, kicking them over the side of the bed, but she keeps her knees squeezed tight.
“Do you like looking at me like this?” I ask, pumping my cock. “Do you like watching what you do to me?”
She nods quickly, and I grin. Finally, I’m getting through to her. Connecting without getting into a sneering match.
“Open your legs, Killer. Let me see how wet you are.”
Slowly, as she bites her lip, she pries her knees apart to reveal the satin of her cunt, and it’s fucking glistening.
“Oh Cara. You are already so wet. So slick. I can see it.”
“Is that… wrong?”
I shake my head. “Fuck no. That’s perfect.” I start panting as my dick fights to take over, but I need to hold back. I can’t fucking come yet. Not until she has. “Press your fingers to your clit.” I urge, and when she looks indecisive, I wonder if she’s going to do it. I’m surprised when she follows my order, grazing her fingers over the area.
“Oh!” She cries out at the first contact, and I nearly lose my load.
“That’s it. Press into it. Or move your fingers in a circle over it.” I urge and again, she follows.
Her breathing is rapid now, and I hope like hell she can come, because she deserves to feel this pleasure.
“How does it feel?” I ask, my voice raspy.
“It... It feels sooo... Oh.” Her lids fall shut momentarily. “Like I need something… I don’t know what.”
“Fuck, Killer. It needs to come. Your body needs to come.”
She nods, even as her face contorts into pleasured pain.
“I can’t… I don’t…” She cries in frustration, and I release my dick, shifting closer.
“Let me help you. Let me take over and make you feel the best you’ve ever fucking felt.”
“B-but how?” she asks, glaring at my cock like it offends her all of a sudden.
“Let me show you how a simple kiss can give you what you need.”
“A kiss? I don’t understand. You want to kiss me?” she asks, her fingers still pressing into her swollen clit.
“Yes, Cara. I want to kiss you here.” I reach forward and only when I know she isn’t going to flinch away do I close the distance and press the tip of my finger to her lips, which part as she releases a breath. “And I want to kiss you here.” I slowly graze my finger down her neck, trailing over her top to circle the tip of her fabric covered breast.
The action causes her chest to push forward into my touch, and a whimper escapes her, but I keep going.
“And I want to kiss all the way down here.” I graze my finger over her abs to her bare flesh just above her mound. “And then, when I kiss you here,” I ease my finger under hers and press it to her clit, “I won’t stop until you come on my face.”
A whimper mixed with a growl escapes her, and before I know what’s happening, she’s pressing her lips to mine.
I fist my hands in her hair, taking control, forcing her to slow down, and she follows quickly, allowing me to nibble on her lips, and slip my tongue into her mouth, until she’s moaning.
She’s writhing against me, and I know I can make her come now, so I don’t waste any more time, peeling her top off, and unclasping her bra as we kiss, and when it falls free, I begin my journey down.
My lips brush over raised skin between her breasts, and without trying to make it obvious my eyes travel over her skin there to find scars. Burn scars, like from a cigarette or something.
Fuck, I want to kill someone. I want to find out who would do such a thing.
Did she have these when I married her or did she come by them in prison?
Something to find out a different time. I need to focus on her. On pleasuring her, so I turn my attention to her dark nipples.
They are pebbled into hard peaks, large and fucking succulent. My cock jerks as I lave at her nipples. First one and then the other, and I fucking love how responsive she is, moaning for me, her fingers delving into my hair.
Continuing down, I leave her nipples to head to paradise, shifting back on the bed so I can get in a good position to start my meal.
“Lay back a bit.” I order, glancing up at Cara to see her gray eyes filled with lust and want as she watches on. “I’m going to kiss you here now, beautiful. And I want you to just let yourself feel everything. Just let yourself go. Let your body take you where it wants to go.”
She nods eagerly, and I shoot her a grin and a wink before turning my sights on the dark lips of her cunt.
The first lick causes her to jolt, so I grip her hips, keeping my eyes locked with hers as I give it another lick.
She moans and relaxes a little more, so I proceed with what I said I’d do, and I make her feel good with my kiss.
I kiss the folds of her cunt like it’s her sweet mouth, and fuck it tastes just as good, if not better. As I flatten my tongue up her center and over her nub, she starts writhing under my hold accepting the building pleasure.
I could insert a finger, but it’s not needed and since she’s still sore, I want to avoid causing her more pain. I can feel how close she is, I can taste the slickness oozing from her entrance as she lets go and accepts what her body needs.
Her cries come rushing out as her body tenses, and I fucking love how loud she is, probably unaware of it herself.
Flicking my tongue faster, I grip her hips tight, and she explodes against my lips in a pulsating convulsion, and my balls tighten before I shoot cum all over the sheet underneath me.
“Fuck me.” I pant as I draw back once she melts into a boneless heap on the bed. “That was fucking transcending.”
A lazy smirk tugs at her lips as her lids flutter open and our gazes lock.
“You’re telling me. When can we do it again?”