Chapter 26
The Wife
LANIE
“You’re not going to carry me over the threshold, then?” I demanded as we stood before the hotel suite.
“And if I were to drop you…”
“Well, you’d damage your own investment. And I’d never believe you could fuck me against a wall properly.”
Baz looked up, fighting the urge to say something spicy as two old biddies passed.
With a flash, instead of a delicate hoist, he threw me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
I squealed nervously, then giggled so much it hurt.
Baz, seemingly unbothered by the women, smacked my ass hard. I giggled more.
“Miss, are you alright?” One called from the elevator.
“We’re newlyweds. It’s fine,” I replied.
“Oh, congratulations and best wishes!” The other said.
Baz opened the door and strode in with me over his shoulder. He unceremoniously dropped me onto the bed.
“Why is it that when married couples go at it, it’s fine? But, God, the same awful acts done by unmarried people is the worst?” I asked.
“God has sanctioned it. Although, in our case, he hasn’t.” Baz tore his tie off and fiddled with his cufflinks.
I kicked my shoes off, staring at him like he was a divine meal.
“You’re very cheeky, Lanie.”
“And you’re the asshole who spanked his wife in public.”
“You like hearing that word, don’t you?”
“No. But I like how uncomfortable it makes you, dear husband.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t. I live for the game, as do you. I’d rather let everyone know you are my wife in due time.”
“Why? So, men will stop bothering me as you show ownership.”
“I don’t mind the idea of men bothering you sometimes,” Baz said. “I rather like it. However, right now, I realize I’ve never had you properly and so freely, and I want to make you cum and feel every bit of you.”
“I’d have let you have me again and again this weekend, but you were too busy in Germany.”
Baz changed the subject, “How did you like my gift?”
He removed his shirt and pants. Then, he tossed off his boxers to reveal how badly he wanted me. I appreciated the view, but wanted him inside me. I did torture him a bit first.
“I prefer your cock,” I said. “But the gift was appreciated.”
Baz sent me a very expensive vibrator to make up for his absence. It was good, but he was better.
“Did you use it like I asked you to?”
Baz climbed onto the bed, parting my legs with his body. I leaned into the delectable way it felt when he pressed against me.
“Yes, naughty boy, I did,” I said.
“And?” He kissed my neck
I sighed, “I got off a few times.”
“Did you think of me?” Baz rubbed the head of his cock against my entrance.
The feeling of his hard, hungry cock against my swollen, desperate pussy sent a shiver down my spine. I gasped, then moaned. I didn’t have to tell him who I thought about or what after that. The answer was yes.
“Yeah, you like that. You did think of me.”
“Uh-huh,” I said as he again kissed my neck.
Baz could be simultaneously rough and tender. While his body pressing me into the mattress was strong and demanding, his kisses were soft and gentle.
“What did you think about?” Baz whispered. “When you touched yourself?”
His cock continued to torture me. I could feel the wetness of his precum. He wanted to be inside me but denied himself for his own sick satisfaction.
“Fuck me, Baz, please.”
Baz pinned my arms behind my head. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
“I wanted you to watch me. So, I thought about that.”
“You’re very bad, Lanie.”
“I know.” I bit my lip, staring defiantly.
Baz slowly pushed himself back, then pressed into me, his cock slowly parting me and soaking up my wetness. It was torturously slow but felt so good. I moaned and grasped my right breast for dear life.
“Oh, you’re quite pleased then?” Baz asked.
I nodded, my breath quickening as he thrust slow and deep.
“You feel so good, Lanie. Fuck! It’s better than I imagined,” Baz moaned.
“Fuck me harder,” I growled. “Don’t stop until I cum.”
Baz slowly picked up speed, giving me what I wanted. He placed my legs on his shoulders again, pounding me harder. It felt so good as he went deeper, touching a spot within me that swelled with each thrust.
“You’re hitting my… G-spot,” I panted. “S-s-so good.”
Baz moved his hand from my knee to my clit. The sensation threw my head back. It was almost too much. I thought I might have to pee and remembered that was a symptom of a squirting orgasm.
“If you keep.. doing that.. I might squirt,” I warned.
Baz kissed my ankle. “Oh, that’s too bad. We’d not want that.”
He got sweet satisfaction thinking he might be the first to do this.
I could tell just by his words. But as he stroked my clit and pressed into me deeper, I grew too close.
I went over the edge, losing myself to the biggest, most whole-body orgasm I’d ever had.
I screamed—nothing intelligible—and writhed.
Then, I lay there, spent and unable to think.
“We’re going to need another duvet,” Baz smirked, quite proud of himself. “But you are beautiful when you cum like that.”
“Uh... Uh-huh,” I panted. “Fuck.”
Baz had slowed to give me time to recover but once more picked up speed.
“You’re amazing,” I moaned. “God, Baz, don’t stop. I’ll cum again.”
“Cum for me, then,” Baz said.
I sensed even he—the glutton for delayed gratification—couldn’t avoid the inevitable much longer.
I didn’t have to work hard. As easily as he pumped me and as sensitive as I remained, I came again. This orgasm was less of an out-of-body experience but still lovely. And listening to him meet his own glorious end didn’t hurt.
“Oh, fuck, Lanie,” Baz growled before falling forward.
Still pulsing inside me, he kissed my lips sweetly. I laced my fingers through his hair. It felt like something real happened between us even if it was still just a game. I wanted him to give me more of himself.
Baz pulled back. “I don’t want to leave you. You feel so good.”
“I am sure you say that to every girl,” I giggled.
Baz hopped up, entering the bathroom. He returned with a towel.
“I generally don’t do that, so you’re a divine treat,” Baz said. “For many, many reasons. Here, you’ll want this. I will tell housekeeping we need another duvet. Next time, we should put a towel down.”
“Did you know what you were doing?” I cleaned up the mess we made.
“Darling, I wasn’t born yesterday. Yes. I wanted to wreck you.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Every bit of it. Forgive me if I get greedy and do it again. Was it worth it for you?”
“It was fucking amazing!” I laughed. “Yes, of course. I felt like I was on another planet in the best way.”
Baz settled in by me, running a finger from my clavicle to my pubic bone. I shivered again.
“Baz, what do we do if we are with other people? We should have some ground rules. I’m fine with us losing the condoms, but I don’t like the risk—”
“We always use protection with anyone else—doesn’t matter who,” Baz said. “But I’d like to have unfettered access to all of you just like this.”
I could have melted. He made me feel so good.
BAZ
“Why did you insist on a hotel?” Lanie asked.
“What do you mean? We’d just gotten married,” I said.
“It’s not real, though. And your house is even nicer than this suite.”
“You know the way to my heart by complementing my house,” I said. “But even if it feels fake, I wanted to make it wonderful for you. And I figured I’d get much more of you this way—along with room service.”
“Can we do room service then? And can I do this thing we used to do where we ordered every single dessert on the menu?”
“Eat to your heart’s content, Lady Osgoode,” I chuckled. “You know how to torture one’s bank account.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” Lanie joked.
“Correct.”
“Is there a tub?” Lanie asked.
“Yes.”
“Ugh. I want to take full advantage of it,” Lanie said. “Decisions, decisions. I am going to take a bath. Then, I will return, and we can order room service.”
“As you wish,” I said.
I watched Lanie pad to the bathroom naked. I’d probably never regret that sight. Fake wife or not, Lanie was more than I could have asked for. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. It was a terrible thing to be so wrapped up in her—in my wife.
I rolled over, searching for my mobile in the trousers I threw down. After dangling off the bed, I secured the device and sat up. Climbing under the covers, I dialed my father.
“Four,” he sounded breathless.
“Father, I wanted to tell you that I married Lanie,” I said. “Here. Because we very much wanted to make sure it was official before you passed away and didn’t want to cause you more stress.”
“You wed her? Already?” Father coughed.
“Yes. Today. We requested a special license back home, too, but got denied. And… given you are unwell, I thought you might want to hear that from me.”
“I did, thank you,” Father said. “Really? You went through with it? And she did, too?”
“It is very much legally binding. We signed the prenup last week. Don’t worry. We’re protected.”
“Good girl,” Father said. “Ellie will be heartbroken.”
She knows. “I think she will get over it as soon as we come home. She’ll be happy to spend more time with Lanie.”
“Well, when will you be home?”
“As planned, next week,” I said. “The gamekeeper will come up with the dogs Thursday.”
“I cannot go out. Maybe I can sit and watch from a car,” Father said. “But I will not be able to shoot.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. “We will figure it out. B.C. Can join us.”
“That would be best. That way the girls could all get to know one another better.”
“I think Lanie will come with,” I said. “She’s a dynamite shot. I doubt she’d be too encouraged to stay home.”
“She is your wife, Four. Her job is to sit quietly and look pretty, not shoot pheasant.”
“Well, I thought her job was to produce an heir and make us look good. Do we not want to keep Lanie happy?”
“Fine,” Father agreed. “But I don’t like a woman out shooting.”
I rolled my eyes. “I am not dying on this hill. I refuse to regulate where and when Lanie can move about the property. It is now her home, too.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Baz. You don’t have much time before you do. Get her pregnant, produce an heir, and then whatever you do, just fly below the radar. She’s tied to you once you’ve succeeded in that. Before, if you anger her, she’ll leave. She’s like her mother—she’s flighty.”
I didn’t agree. Lanie was carefree and wild, but she wasn’t flighty.
No one would agree to this arrangement under that designation.
Instead, she was just her own person. My father would never understand my disinterest in any wife who would prefer to lounge around the house eating bonbons when she could be out enjoying the poor Scottish weather in real time.
That sort of “no fucks given” attitude was what I loved about her.
Yes, I loved something about her. It shook me for a moment before I considered if you could love something about someone without loving them.