Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
VALERIE
CLOSING MY EYES, I take a deep breath before dropping lower. I don't know how it's possible, but my entire body feels packed to capacity, not just the vagina currently being invaded. It’s overwhelming. It’s a little shocking. It’s...
Only halfway in.
All the air rushes from my lungs, and I growl in frustration. "Why is it so big?"
Fynn chuckles. "I would say it’s genetics." He smirks when my eyes snap to his face. "Although I did eat a large amount of sausage when I was young, so maybe that has something to do with it."
I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you really making jokes at a time like this?"
Fynn’s arms slide from the edges of the tub, his hands coming to smooth up and down my thighs. "Sex is supposed to be fun, Darling."
I hold my glare. "You said sex was going to be hard and fast and then slow and sweet, and what we’re doing now is neither of those."
I liked his original plan. Hard and fast to just get this whole virginity issue done and over with. Then something that would hopefully be slightly more enjoyable.
Instead I'm trying not to pass out even though I'm pretty sure part of him is poking me in the lung.
And he’s still only three quarters of the way in.
"Those were promises I made before I found out you were keeping yet another secret from me, my darling wife." His hands slide higher, one gripping my hip as the other flattens on my lower belly, his thumb slipping between my pussy lips. "Maybe that will make you think twice about withholding information from me again."
The pad of his thumb teases across my clit, and my thighs involuntarily clench at his hips. "Oh."
"Yes." He teases me with an unerring touch and I slide over him a little more. "Oh." The hand at my hip offers the smallest bit of pressure as his thumb continues stroking my clit. "You need to relax. That's why we’re in the bath. The more you relax, the easier it will be to take all of me." His voice has dropped low, to the same tone it was yesterday while I was on my knees. "You do want to take all of me, don't you, wife?"
I have to balance myself using his shoulders, because every word coming out of his mouth has my legs getting weaker and weaker. I rock forward, dropping a little more as I lean toward him. "Yes."
"How badly do you want all of me?" Fynn’s nose drags across the swell of my breast, and I automatically twist just a little, encouraging his mouth to move to my nipple.
"More than anything."
He nuzzles at my nipple. "More than anything?" He teases the tip of his nose against it, making it tighten. "That's quite a bit."
The heat of his mouth finally closes around my flesh, and my legs give out, bringing the back of my thighs flush against his hips.
I should be consumed by the pressure where his body penetrates mine. Instead all my attention is on his mouth and his thumb and the way they make me want to rock against him. I don't mean to move, but I can't help it. I need it.
Fynn’s mouth releases my breast, but his lips continue rubbing against my wet skin. "That's right, Val. Use me to make yourself feel good."
The thought of doing just that is wickedly empowering. Taking an act that was intended to benefit everyone but me and claiming it as my own. Claiming Fynn as my own.
Thinking of it in those terms emboldens me, has my eyes on his face as I work my body up, feeling every inch slip out of me before sinking back down. This time there’s no pain, only a mild stretch, and I relax a little more. I rise and fall over him again, focusing on the feeling of him dragging in and out of me. The sensation is still just as consuming, but in a very different way.
A way that has me clinging to his shoulders as I rock up and down, his thumb still on my clit, and his mouth clamped onto my nipple. It’s sensation overload and, without warning, I come, the climax slamming into me full force, making me cry out his name as I cling to him, continuing to rock as I chase every bit of that feeling. My ears ring, my vision dulls, and I'm only vaguely aware of Fynn’s hands gripping tighter as he pushes up into me twice, groaning around my nipple as the long line of his dick twitches inside me.
My body goes limp, falling forward, head hitting his shoulder as every bone gives up its task.
Fynn’s hands move up and down my back, gliding over my wet skin as I fight to catch my breath and regain my bearings. And my hearing. And my sight.
"That..." I take a shuddering breath as my body clenches with an aftershock, tightening around where he still fills me. "Was not how I expected sex to be."
"Good." Fynn's voice is a little rough in my ear. Almost like he's having just as difficult of a time regaining his composure as I am. "Although I have to admit, it's not as flattering when I consider you expected to have sex with a man you were forced to marry who only valued you because of an arbitrary sense of entitlement."
I lean back, meeting his eyes as I try to figure out what he means. "Entitlement?"
Fynn reaches up to smooth back some of my damp, tangled hair. "He believed, as your husband, he would be entitled to your body."
That's an interesting way of looking at things. "What do you believe?"
"In regards to fucking you? "
I nod, interested to hear what he has to say.
Fynn smirks. "I would call it my duty as your husband."
I laugh, which doesn’t seem as out of place as I would have expected. "Your duty?"
Fynn continues smiling as he nods. "One I take extremely seriously."
I lean forward, bringing us nearly nose to nose. "Obviously."
Before I can move, one of his hands clamps at the back of my neck, his expression turning serious. "Are there any more little surprises waiting for me?" One dark brow angles. "Are you secretly a government agent here to investigate my immigration status?"
I can't help it. I laugh again, because now I can tell his seriousness is all for show. "I am not a government agent and your immigration status is irrelevant to me." I match his angled brow with one of my own. "Unless this was all an evil plan to get a green card."
Fynn’s grin comes back. "You found me out." He uses his hold on the back of my neck to pull me in, bringing my mouth against his in a breath stealing, toe curling kiss that has me hoping he will go about his duties sooner rather than later.
But, to my dismay, he releases me, grabbing my hips to lift my body away from his before getting us both to our feet and out of the barely warm water. He grabs a huge, insanely fluffy towel and wraps it around my shoulders, enveloping me in plush softness. "Are you hungry, my darling wife? "
My eyes follow the path of his hand as he reaches down to grip the length of his cock, sliding the condom free with a surprisingly violent sounding snap that makes me jump. My eyes jump to his. "Doesn't that hurt?"
He opens one of the vanity doors and deposits the used condom in a trash can hidden underneath. "No." He grabs a washcloth from another cabinet, dips it into the barely warm water and wipes down his still half hard dick. "Now, if snapped like that when I put it on, that would be a different story." He finishes cleaning himself off then turns to me, using another towel to dry his skin. "And you didn't answer me, wife. Are you hungry?"
I have to think about it for a second, because a lot has just happened. Luckily, my stomach is not shy about sharing her feelings, and it rumbles. Loudly.
"There's my answer." Fynn wraps his towel around his waist before stepping close and carefully pulling my hair free from the one still tucked against my body. "Let's get you fed and then you are going to tell me every fucking thing I need to know." His eyes fuse to mine. "And half of what I don't."
It's a reasonable request, but still makes my stomach turn.
When Fynn finds out all the things I allowed to happen he's going to look at me differently. He's going to see just how weak I really am.
The shame is swift and strong and has my eyes dropping between us. And Fynn doesn't miss the change.
He brings both palms to my cheeks, tipping my head up until my eyes meet his. "I understand it will be hard, but I need to know what I'm dealing with if I'm going to keep you safe." One thumb slides across my lower lip, tracing it with a soft touch. "And keeping you safe is another duty I take very seriously." His lips barely twitch. "Plus, I have no intention of becoming a widower within a week."
I'm starting to get a little more of his humor. His slightly drier delivery made it difficult to identify, initially, but there's no missing the glint in his eye, so I roll mine. "You're hilarious."
"Yes, I am, but I'm also very fucking rich and if anyone can keep you safe, it's me." He leans in to press a chaste kiss to my lips. "So, in that, you made an excellent choice in a husband."
I lift my chin the tiniest bit. "Among other things." I try to match his dry tone, but it's not perfect and he starts laughing right away.
He kisses me again before pulling back. "Cheeky girl." Then his hand is in mine and he’s pulling me through the house, pausing to drag one of his T-shirts over my head and to pull on a pair of pajama pants. It's odd to see him in something as casual as pajamas, and I keep peeking his way as he takes me into the kitchen and deposits me onto one of the backed stools lining the gigantic island. The huge flower arrangement he sent still dominates the top, but it's pushed to one side now, so I can watch as he digs through the refrigerator and pulls out a few containers.
He lines two plates on the counter, popping one of the containers open before scooping rice out. He pauses, eyes lifting to where I sit. "I'm waiting."
I shift in my seat. I'd almost been able to forget that it's confession time, and that’s not something I’ve ever been good at. Mostly because everything I had to confess was someone else's sin.
Just like now.
"My father..." I struggle to come up with the words to describe him. None seem to fit, so I decide simplicity will work best. "Is an awful, awful man."
Fynn's eyes lift to me again. "You don't say. I would have guessed a man who attempts to marry off his virginal daughter for his own benefit would be a saint."
I snort, but after a few beats I realize Fynn’s dry tone was not sarcasm meant to be humorous, but sarcasm built on anger.
And it warms me inside. I don't know that anyone outside of my roommate Crystal has ever been angry on my behalf before.
"He has always wanted to be more than he is." I pause looking back on my life through a lens that has changed dramatically over the past few weeks. "He's a coward and insecure and tries to make himself feel better by manipulating and controlling everyone around him." It's easy to see in hindsight, but as a child you don't really see your parents how they are. Not only because you don't have the experience or maturity to identify certain characteristics, but because they're your parent. Considering they never have and never will have your best interests at heart is difficult and painful .
Especially when it’s the truth.
"It's crazy because he grew up in a decent family." I chew my lower lip, wondering for the first time what my grandparents thought of him. "His parents were nice people who never got a traffic ticket."
Fynn finishes scooping what looks to be some sort of sticky Chinese chicken onto the rice, then slides one of the plates into the microwave. He turns to lean against the counter, crossing both arms as he gives me his full attention. "So he wasn't born into the family?"
I shake my head. "No, and he hated it. Was so jealous of anyone who had been."
Fynn’s gaze sharpens, his jaw clenching tight. "I’m assuming the man he wanted you to marry was part of the family?"
I try not to cringe, because I was so fucking stupid. So fucking weak. But I've already held so much back, and I don't want to keep any more from him. Especially not with what we know now. "Yes."
Fynn continues to study me. "And how long ago was that wedding supposed to happen?"
I try not to shift around, but fail, revealing my discomfort with the question. "About a month."
Fynn’s brows lift in surprise. "So one month ago, your father attempted to force you into an arranged marriage."
I nod. "I tried to go along with it, because I felt like I had to. I didn't think I had any other options." I force myself to be honest, even though my skin burns with humiliation. "But the morning of the wedding, a woman came into the room where I was getting ready and told me she’d been with Warren for years, and that they would continue to be together." My eyes drop to where my hands twist in my lap. "That I would never be the one he really wanted and he was only marrying me to gain the same power my father was after."
Things are quiet for a second, and Fynn’s voice is low when he says, "That doesn't make sense."
I rub my eyes, suddenly very tired. "Does any of it?" I drop my hands back to my lap. "After she left I broke down, because I spent so much of my life miserable and controlled and I was just trading one devil for another." I lift my eyes to the ceiling, forcing out the rest. "So I walked out of the church, took an uber to a rental car place, and drove south. I planned to go as far away as I could get, but I stopped for gas and caffeine at the store where my roommate Crystal works, and she offered to help me."
The microwave beeps and Fynn ignores it. "So it's likely your jilted groom and father came together to rectify the damage you did to their egos and reputations." He scrubs one hand over his face. "I need you to cut up all your credit cards. All your debit cards. Anything that could help them find you."
I sit a little taller, finally feeling something besides shame. "I left them all in Minnesota."
A slow smile creeps onto Fynn’s lips. "That's my girl." His head tilts. "Then what have you been doing for money?"
I inwardly cringe, because this is another answer I don't want to offer, not only because of the ramifications, but also because it might make Fynn second-guess even more than he already is. "I sold my engagement ring." I slip my new rings from my finger and slide them across the counter toward him. "You can hang onto these if you want to."