Chapter 27
My wife believes in soul mates. I, on the other hand, believe in taking what’s mine. There isn’t a lifetime she could hide in where I wouldn’t hunt her down. Fate didn’t marry us today—I did.
It’s not that I did it without her permission so much as she just hasn’t been formally notified yet.
It wasn’t even that hard. All I had to do was purchase property in Montana, make it my primary residence, establish a little trust with the locals, and get the county to perform a proxy marriage—which is a walk in the fucking park once you forge the paperwork.
Kelly showers with her head tilted back, water sluicing off her inked skin.
She’s so goddamn beautiful I can hardly speak.
I lean against the doorframe, admiring the way the steam winds itself around every luscious curve.
Bringing the lowball glass to my lips, I let the smooth smoky Foxx Bourbon coat my tongue, while my fist tightens around the plain white shirt in my other hand.
I didn’t even know proxy marriage existed until a couple years ago. That was when the wheels in my head began to turn. Apparently, residents of Montana have the option where one or both parties are able to marry each other by representing someone as their proxy—in this case, Thor.
“Are you going to join me or just stand there and watch?” Kelly asks.
I smirk and push off the doorjamb, setting my things on the bathroom counter. Well played. After shucking off my clothes, I swing the shower door open and step inside, letting the warm steam envelop me.
As soon as her eyes flick briefly to my cock, her plush lips part.
The hitch in her breath has the corner of my mouth tilting up.
That sultry gaze of hers drags over every inch like she’s already plotting a hundred ways to ruin me.
I could stand here for days watching her try and fail to hide her hunger without ever growing tired.
She hauls me into her, delicate fingers linking behind my neck and bringing my mouth to hers.
Soft, starving lips brush mine while her nails scrape my skin.
Breaking the kiss briefly, she searches my eyes, then kisses me again, running her fingers through my wet hair.
“I have wanted you like this for so long,” she whispers, melting me into a fucking puddle.
I chuckle, allowing myself to succumb to the pure happiness bursting in my chest. “Is it everything you imagined?”
“Not exactly.” She glances down, sinking her teeth into that full bottom lip as she stares at my hardening length.
My hands slip down her sides and reach behind, filling both my palms with her ass. “No?”
She releases a gentle sigh. “When I imagined it, you were buried in my throat.”
My head flops back, and I squeeze my lids tight. “Jesus, Kelly.”
Lowering my chin, I cup her neck, tilting her jaw up while my lips cover hers. She smiles against me. “Please?”
I nod, and she falls to her knees. Fuck, yes. Widening my stance, I make every effort to adjust my height, then brace a palm against the tile wall. I’m defenseless against her pleading.
“Stick your tongue out.”
With soaked hair plastered to her neck and shoulders, she peers up at me, holding me captive with those big green eyes.
Mascara smudges beneath her lashes—and she follows directions, while tracing the tips of her fingers up and down my calves.
My sights are set on her creamy tits; those pierced tits brush my thighs.
I fist the base of my cock, slapping it on her tongue, and she fucking whimpers.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“Let me prove it first,” she purrs.
My head shakes in disbelief. This must be a dream. Grabbing her by the throat, I tilt her head back and spit into her mouth. “Suck.”
She gasps, regarding me in awe like I built the universe with my bare hands just for her.
Her plump lips encircle me like she was made for it, sliding up and down my length, and I blow out a breath—wrecked by the image of her.
How fucking gorgeous she looks with me in her throat.
The way she tongues the underside of my cock, as if memorizing every vein, has a groan working its way up from my lungs.
My free hand delves into her hair and tugs it at the base. Her salacious gaze tangles with mine, and I nod, encouraging her while bobbing that sinful mouth faster over my dick. Her eyes roll back and flutter closed as she submits. Fuck me.
“You’re doing so good, Chaos. So fucking good.”
She hums around me, and I pump in and out. Dropping her hand, she grants me control to take over, then digs her fingers into my thighs.
“Can you take more?” I ask. She mumbles an “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s my girl.” I guide myself deeper until she gags, and I hold her head steady. Tears form at the edges of her pleading eyes, mascara staining her cheeks. “I’ve got you.”
She cups her palms behind my thighs, coasting them higher until she sinks her claws in my ass, hauling me closer.
The way she marvels up at me proves she believes every word without hesitation, that sacred trust spurs me on more than lust ever could.
Trusting me not to take it too far, to not hurt her.
That trust means everything because our relationship will need it when she discovers what I’ve done.
I release her wet tresses, and she inhales, drool spilling from the corner of her mouth. She moves quickly, dipping her head to wrap her lips around one of my balls. Her hand works up and down, stroking my cock while she sucks. Christ.
She moans—the vibration shoots through me, and the heat in my core coils tighter. White spots dot the corners of my vision, and I curl my toes, doing my damnedest to keep from coming.
Not yet.
I pop out of her mouth, and she locks her plump lips around the crown, giving all the attention to my sensitive tip. Kelly fists my length with both hands stacked on top of each other; she tears a rumble from deep in my chest when she rotates them in opposite directions. Fucking hell.
“Get up here.” I’m not ready to finish yet.
She subtly shakes her head defiantly, not stopping.
“Goddamn it, Kelly . . .”
She releases me with a wicked smile. “Yes, dear?” she asks, like my doting, domesticated slut.
“I’m going to finish all over your fucking hand if you don’t stop.”
“You better not.”
With her fingers circling the base of my balls, she takes the rest of me down her throat like it’s her personal mission to make me suffer.
I should pull away, but I physically can’t do it.
The message from my brain is denied by my need to come down her throat.
I want to see her swallow me; I’ve imagined it too many times.
The hand wrapped around me tugs downward, forcing my knees to lock. “Sit up straight, Chaos,” I command. The release hits me like a freight train, and I growl, bracing myself against the shower wall. “That’s it. Look at you, such a messy girl. Show me how fucking thirsty you are for my cum.”
Her eyes sparkle while she worships me on her knees, her throat bobbing as she swallows. I empty myself into her with her name on my lips, and she takes it with so much eagerness I have to remind myself she’s real—my fucking wife. This is so much better than any fantasy.
Once the blood returns to my brain, I turn off the water and wring the droplets from her hair. We exit the shower, and I run a warm, fluffy towel along every inch of her body, then do the same for myself. My cock is starting to relax, but I’ll be back in no time, I’m sure.
I plug in the blow dryer sitting on the counter and begin combing my fingers through her locks, letting the dryer fill the silence.
Goose bumps spread across her naked flesh as the warm air hits her skin, and she shivers occasionally.
Every time I catch her gaze on me, I hold it.
Each glance is charged with anticipation.
I don’t break eye contact, I want to see her just as affected as I am.
We’ve exchanged looks countless times in the past, but this is different.
She may think it’s just another night, but I know better. Tonight, there will be no waiting and no mercy. I don’t worship softly. Peace will only come after we’ve fucked ourselves into submission—and we’ll have to tear each other apart to get there.
When her hair is dry, I brush the silky strands for any remaining tangles. My focus falls on my plain white shirt sitting on the counter where I left it next to the glass of bourbon. Then I hold it in front of her. “Put this on.”
She cocks her head to the side, furrowing her brow quizzically, but draws it over her head. When she looks in the mirror, she holds her arms out at her sides and laughs. She’s practically swimming in white cotton.
“This thing fits me like a dress,” she comments.
I grin.
Without saying a word, I grasp under her thighs, pick her up, and pin her against the bathroom wall. “You’re mine now.”
She presses her forehead to mine, encircling her arms around my neck. “I like the sound of that.”
My mouth crashes against hers—she parts her lips, demanding more. Her legs wrap around me as if they’ve done it a thousand times before. I knead her thighs with my palms, digging my fingers into the curves just under her ass.
Her soft body is pliable in my arms. The way her warm skin feels against mine overwhelms me with a sense of nostalgia, like home. She pauses our kiss by pressing her forehead against mine, catching her breath. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
I shake my head and swallow. “I won’t.”
She relaxes into me like I’ve finally granted her the right to breathe.
As I carry her into the bedroom, my cock hardens, and her thighs start to tremble before I even place her onto the downy mattress and climb on top of her.
And then I kiss her.
It reminds me of the first one we shared. Slow and aching. She parts her lips for me, like she’s welcoming me home. Sealing my mouth over hers like a vow, I will honor and cherish this woman until the stars burn out.