Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Louisa
We’re married.
I’m in a truck, wearing a ring on my left ring finger, holding hands with my husband.
Ellis is focused on the road, and I’m focused on him.
“So, that just happened,” he says, his boyish grin flashing with the sunset in his eyes.
“I’m still processing,” I reply.
“Me too.”
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“Mm,” he says, rubbing the scruff of his chin. “Butt stuff, I think?”
“Oh my god, Ellis!”
And now he’s planted a filthy idea in the head of his filthy bride.
“I mean…someday.”
“We should start slow with that,” he says.
I nod. “Yep.”
By the time we arrive home, Ellis’s little jokes and my little teases have evolved into heavy petting in the truck's cab.
He parks half-assed in the garage, both of us desperate with newlywed energy.
We don’t get too far while parked in the truck. It’s all arms and legs with a pesky gearshift in the way.
“Inside.”
God, I love it when he goes monosyllabic.
So much for carrying me over the threshold. I just need this man to get the damn door open. My body vibrates with anticipation. I smile to myself when I remember that last night, Ellis effectively carried me over the threshold after my car accident.
Ellis barely gets the key in the lock when we tumble into the hallway, me facedown on the thick braided rug, ass in the air. Ellis is behind me, hiking up my dress and wildly shoving my panties down to my knees.
The clank of the loosened belt buckle makes me weep with anticipation.
Ellis knocks my legs apart, and the rug beneath me is rough against my knees.
I nearly come apart when he slides his hand through my folds, using my essence as lube.
“She’s ready for me. That pussy is mine,” he growls. The sound of his approval and the sticky sound of him using me is almost too much to take.
“She’s yours,” I rasp out.
He fits himself inside and pushes in, sliding all the way to the hilt.
I smile to myself when I think of all the ways I would have had sex on my wedding night. This is way hotter, wetter, and more exciting than any of those scenarios.
I am completely open and trusting of Ellis, and he makes me feel like a fucking goddess every time. He reaches around and cups my breast, pushing aside my wrap-around top. His thumb toys with my nipple, and I cry out.
He pushes in, and our bodies slap together.
“More. You can do it harder, Ellis,” I beg.
Ellis leans over me and rasps in my ear, “I want you to play with yourself while I put my finger in your ass.”
My jaw drops, but no sound comes out.
I don’t believe I’ve ever been so present in my own body, and so present with another person. He surrounds me and fills me from the inside out, making me feel and experience things I never thought of in my wildest dreams. His finger in my ass is a revelation.
We come one after another, like exploding fireworks.
Ellis speaks from his heart.
“I love you, Louisa. And I’m gonna take good care of you.”
I respond the only way I know how at the moment, by making a joke. “Starting with the rug burn on my knees.”
That was the wrong thing to joke about because Ellis takes me all too seriously.
Minutes later, we’re on the porch. Me wrapped in a blanket with a bucket load of salve applied to my knees, and Ellis massaging my feet as they perch on his lap.
“Are you sure you didn’t get any burns on your hands? Your arms?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” I say.
“Don’t say you're fine and not be fine.”
“Husband, you are aggravating in the best way.”
“Thank you,” he says with a smile.
“But I would like my cardigan and some tea?”
“On it.”
He’s up like a shot, sending my feet sliding to the floor abruptly. And then he’s on his knees again, checking on me. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”
“I don’t know; I think I might need an x-ray from the whiplash.”
“Oh my god, are you serious?”
“Ellis. Get me my tea, please.”
With the giddiest grin, I watch him disappear through the screen door.
The sky is so pretty tonight. I’m glad to have someone to stargaze with. I like this farm. I think I’m going to like this life.
I feel as if it’s destiny that brought me here. What are the chances I’d end up so close to Olivia, finding her almost instantly?
When Ellis returns, he not only has my cardigan and a piping hot cup of tea but also brings the book I’m currently reading, borrowed from Olivia and Wylie’s bookshelves. He flicks on the light.
“So you can read. If you want.”
I smile up at him as he wraps my cardigan around my shoulders. He gives the back of my neck a soft squeeze, and the small gesture feels like a gentle reminder. I belong with him. He’s my husband. My protector.