Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FYNN
MY ANGER IS irrational, I know that. But at this point, I've given up any hope of being reasonable when my wife is concerned.
"I didn't mean to—" Val's legs jerk and her words cut off on a squeak when the next stroke of my fingers slides closer to her clit.
"You didn't mean to, what?" I drag my teasing digits away from the hardened nub I know she desperately wants my attention focused on and sink back into her body, nearly groaning with how wet and tight and hot she is.
Before leaving for my mother’s, we phoned a physician friend of mine who, after speaking with Valerie, was more than happy to provide not only my medical records, but also a prescription. One that was filled and delivered before we even had breakfast.
Did it cost me an arm and a leg? Yes. But it was worth every penny .
"I didn't think my college education was relevant." Valerie’s explanation is soft. Breathy.
And misguided.
"I find everything about you relevant, wife." I lean back, watching as my fingers curve in and out of her body.
"You expect me to tell you everything?" Her hips rock, trying to get more from my touch.
"Yes." It's a simple answer. Again, I know I'm being irrational, but again, this woman does that to me.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?" I pull my hand from her body, missing the heat of it immediately. "Then maybe I should give you proper motivation to find a way to accomplish it." Working as fast as I possibly can one-handed, I open the front of my trousers and free my aching, leaking cock. I drag it along the slick, wet heat of her seam. "What if, for every bit you tell me, I fuck you until your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head?" I tease the head of my dick over her clit, offering a light touch that gives just enough stimulation to have her clawing at the arm still pinning her legs in place. "Would you be interested in making that deal?"
I don’t know that continuing to keep our relationship a series of negotiations is a great idea, but it’s certainly getting me where I want to go, so I see no reason to stop just yet.
It's landed me an eager wife in my bed every night. One who expects to get off no less than two times, ensuring plenty of time for enjoyment .
"Deal." Valerie doesn't hesitate, further solidifying her place as the woman of my fucking dreams.
Without hesitation I sink into her body, eyes nearly rolling back at the feel of her warm, wet skin gliding directly against mine. Keeping my movements careful, I study her face for any sign of distress as I work my thumb against her clit. I don't know how long it takes for a woman to go from untouched to enjoying having the breath fucked out of her, but I'm fairly certain it's not a single time. I can wait. I have all the time in the world to take my wife the many ways I want.
Thanks to my thumb on her clit, Val's coming in under a minute, the tight clench of her cunt testing my ability to hold up my end of our bargain.
“Holy shit.” Valerie's head drops back, limbs relaxing like she thinks this is over.
"That's only one, wife." I pull out, releasing my hold on her knickers so I can grip her hips to flip her over, presenting myself with a view of her perfect bottom. "You might need to start writing down all the agreements you make so you don't forget everything I owe you." I sink back into her welcoming body, fingers digging into the flesh of her full hips as I grit my teeth against the need to come. The need to possess her the way I want. To own every inch of her perfect body and claim it as mine.
I rock into her, sliding one hand up the length of her spine to grip the zip of her dress. After dragging it down to the stopper just blow her waist, I grasp her shoulders, pulling her upright, continuing to fuck her as I push the front of her dress down and out of my way. As her breasts drop free, unhindered by the confines of a bra, I growl against her skin. "I like this gown, Val."
Her head rocks back against me when one hand finds a nipple, rolling it as the other hand shoves beneath the fabric bunched around her waist to reach back between her legs.
“Don’t stop.” Her arms hook back to link around my neck, holding on as her body begins to shake. “Please don’t stop.”
“Such a polite little wife, aren’t you?” Every press into her body is the sweetest torture, driving me closer and closer to an end I’m trying my damndest to delay. “Will you always be this polite when I’m fucking you?”
Her arm grips tighter as she starts to sag against me. “Probably.”
“Good.” I lick up the side of her neck, wishing I’d taken the time to run my tongue over other parts of her body. “Tonight you can be polite when my head is between these perfect fucking thighs and I’m sucking on your clit.”
Her body convulses and she cries out loud enough I have to release her nipple to smother the sound with my palm. The feel of her cunt milking my cock as she comes again is more than I can handle and I’m forced to pull out, gripping my cock to catch as much cum as I can in an effort to save both the dress I love so much and the bedspread beneath us. I bury my face in her dark hair, groaning as my cock continues to jerk, sending spurt after spurt of sticky heat into my palm. Hindsight has me wishing I’d stripped her fully so I could paint it across her pale skin. Mark her as mine in yet another way.
Because the ring on her hand and my name after hers isn’t enough. It’s likely nothing will be, but that won’t stop me from trying.
I work my hand from Valerie's mouth, easing it down so my forearm stays across her chest and I can lower her body to the bed. She sprawls across the mattress, dress bunched around her waist, hair everywhere. I've always found a job well done satisfying, but nothing I’ve accomplished up to this point compares to the sight of my wife thoroughly pleased and thoroughly fucked.
I back away from the mattress, holding my trousers up with one hand as I go to the attached bathroom to wash away the evidence of my misdeed.
Since Val’s seen my medical records, she knows there's no concerns in that sense, however I was specifically instructed that the pill she's now taking would require a minimum of seventy-two hours to go into full effect. I switch on the water and hold my hand under the tap, hoping I didn't add yet another complication to our situation. Fatherhood hasn't been on my short list, and it's not now. Especially since someone is actively trying to figure out how to get their hands on my wife.
After doing up my trousers, I go back into the bedroom to find my wife hasn't moved, and my earlier satisfaction grows.
"It looks like I've worn you out, wife." I grab my shirt and pull it on, doing up the buttons. "I think you deserve a nap." She has to be exhausted. The last few days have been eventful—to say the least. She’s been married, thoroughly fucked, and hidden away for her own safety. That's not even taking into consideration the month that came before it.
A month I plan to convince her to tell me more about as soon as she's rested up so I can reward her for her good behavior.
"Actually, a nap does sound kind of nice." Val's words are distorted from where her face is smashed against the bed, and I find it just as endearing as I find everything else about her.
Because I'm fucking hopeless. Ruined already.
I heave my suitcase up from the floor and rest it on the top of one of the vanities, unzipping it to pull out a T-shirt. "Come here." Moving to her side, I urge her upright so I can detangle the dress from her body and replace it with my T-shirt. After pulling her hair through the neck, I draw back the covers. "Climb in."
She does without argument but frowns as I tuck the blankets around her. "Aren’t you going to take a nap with me?"
I lean down to press a kiss against her forehead. "Not this time, Darling. I need to go to my office for a few hours. I have meetings." I smooth back her dark hair. "Will you be okay here while I'm gone?"
She gives me a nod, her lids moving slowly as she blinks up at me. "Are you sure it doesn't bother your mom that I'm here?"
I press a kiss to her lips, unable to resist. "Did it seem like my mother was bothered? "
She gives me a sleepy little smile. "No."
I stroke the soft skin of her cheek, stalling even though I know I need to go. "No. It didn't." Forcing my hands away from her body, I make myself stand up, collecting her wrinkled dress as I go. "If you wake up before I'm back, would you keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn't overdo?"
Val gives me a nod. "Of course."
I give her one last look before turning away, but her soft hand grips mine, stopping my retreat. I turn to face her.
"Be careful?"
"I will." I lift our joined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm before releasing it. I manage to wait until I turn away before smiling, recognizing my own buffoonery at being pleased that she worries over me.
I quietly close her in before making my way through the quiet apartment. My mother and Nicholas are nowhere to be seen, making me assume my mother is doing the same thing Valerie is, so I collect my keys and head down the lift. After leaving the garage, I make a stop to drop Valerie's dress off at the dry cleaners, arranging for it to be delivered to my mother's, then go to my office. I'm just settling into my chair when my assistant, Brian, barges in, eyes wide.
“Where have you been?”
I raise my brows, a little surprised at his panicked state. “I had appointments this morning.” I lean forward, concerned over what exactly has him so worked up. “Why? What’s wrong? ”
Brian falls into the chair on the opposite side of my desk. “The phone has been ringing off the hook and I tried to call you but it kept going straight to voicemail.”
I reach into my pocket to retrieve my mobile. "I can't imagine why it would have—" I stare down at the black screen as I continue pushing the button at the side that’s supposed to wake it up, confused as fuck when nothing happens.
Brian leans closer, brows pinched together as he looks from the phone to me. "Is your battery dead?"
"Of course not." I grab the charger from my drawer and plug it into the USB of my desk. "It's got to be something else." I secure the thing into my phone. "I charge my phone every—" My jaw goes slack with shock as the red battery icon flares to life on the screen, indicating that my battery is, in fact, dead.
I set it down on my desk, keeping my movements careful, even though I’m frustrated with myself. "I must have forgotten to plug it in last night before I went to bed.
I can't imagine why.
I look up to find Brian staring at me with wide eyes. "So it's true?"
I lean back in my seat, trying to seem calm and reasonable even though the information he likely has will make me seem anything but. "Is what true?"
His eyes drops to where my hands are folded on the desk in front of me. The hoped effect was that the casual pose would make me seem in control, when in fact it shows just how out of control I am because it puts my brand-new wedding ring front and center .
My assistant jumps up from his chair, jaw going slack. "You fucking got married." He presses one hand to his head, looking distressed at the discovery. "I didn't know what to say when everyone was calling to ask, and I swore to them there couldn't be any truth to the rumors." His other hand goes to the opposite side of his head, squeezing it between both palms. "How in the world did you get married?"
"Well, it's easy enough to schedule an appointment at the courthouse and—"
Brian’s hands drop as he starts shaking his head. "I don't mean how. I know how to get married." He leans forward, bracing against the desk between us. "Who in the world did you marry?"
I’m eager for the world to know who my new wife is. To claim her as mine in every way possible. However, disclosing her name will put Valerie in danger, and I’m not willing to do that. "Who she is doesn't matter." I pull out my laptop, situating it in front of me. "And feel free to tell anyone who calls now that I am, in fact, married." I pause, realizing that will be unlikely to appease the gossips that I'm sure are responsible for the majority of my assistant’s stress. "And inform them that my mother will be planning an event to announce the marriage soon."
Soon is a benign and arbitrary date. Soon could be tomorrow. Soon could be next year.
But soon will not be before I have secured my wife's safety .
Brian continues to stare at me, disbelief etched into his face. "You couldn't even give me a heads up?"
"It was a rather sudden sort of thing." I open my email, raising a brow at how many have collected in my inbox in the time I bedded my new wife and made my way to the office.
My assistant lowers his voice. "Is she pregnant?"
"No. She's not pregnant." Probably.
Brian continues staring for a few more seconds, before asking yet another question. "Does she know about Jessica?"
"She does." I open the first in the line of emails, scanning the expected questions before typing out a curt response. "The issue with Jessica is irrelevant to her." Insomuch that she doesn't believe the accusations. It is, however, relevant considering it provided Valerie the leverage she needed.
Leverage I'm feeling rather grateful for at the moment. Without Jessica I wouldn't have Val. And if I didn't have Val, my new wife would have no one to protect her.
The thought of Valerie facing all this on her own sours my gut, and has me scanning my emails for a specific sender. "Was Elaine Cervantes one of the phone calls that came in?"
My assistant snorts. "She's probably the only person in Sweet Side who has not called this morning." He finally straightens from my desk. "Would you like for me to make a call to her?"
I shake my head. "No. But if she calls, forward it to me immediately, regardless of whether I'm in a meeting or not."
Brian’s chin tucks, his gaze moving over my face. "Did you marry Elaine Cervantes?"
"No. I did not marry Elaine Cervantes." I go back to my emails. "My understanding is she is attached anyway."
My assistant opens his mouth, no doubt to ask yet another invasive question, but he's cut off by a man striding directly into my office.
We both turn to look at him at the same time, but I don’t greet this unexpected visitor. I wait to see what he has to say in way of explanation.
It should be an interesting conversation.
"Fynn." Rogers holds both hands out, smiling wide. "How have you been, mate?"
I keep my expression neutral as his southern drawl brutalizes his attempt at replicating my own accent. "I am well." I stand, tucking one hand into the pocket of my trousers. "To what do I owe this visit?"
Rogers keeps grinning, oblivious to the coolness in my tone. He's oblivious to most things. But he is very, very wealthy, so I usually let it slide. We’ll see if that continues.
"I heard congratulations are in order." He comes straight at me like we’re old friends, grabbing me in a backslapping hug. "I heard you got married." His tone is decidedly different than it was the last time we spoke—when he told me he was backing out of a deal set to make us both a load of money.
"You heard correctly. I was lucky enough to make a beautiful woman my wife yesterday." I don't slow down, because I know what question is coming next and I want to head it off. "My mother is hard at work planning an event that will announce our coupling.”
"Good to hear it. Hopefully I get an invite." He drops down into the chair across from me, ignoring my assistant. "I want to talk about that deal we've got going."
I stare at him silently for a few seconds, waiting until he shifts in his seat before answering. "I wasn't aware we had a deal. Last time we spoke, you indicated you were no longer interested in being a part of it."
He waves one hand at me. "That was just a misunderstanding. My wife had heard some untrue things and got the wrong idea.” He grins, shooting me a wink. “But I set her straight."
I'm sure he did, and it makes me wonder if his wife could be making an escape of her own soon. "And that means?"
"It means I'm in again." He says it like it's a simple change. One I should readily accept.
But I find I'm not as eager and trusting of him as I was a few weeks ago. "I'm sure we could make that happen."
Rogers reaches out to shake my hand, like that's all it will take.
"Provided, you are willing to sign a nonrefundable contract."
His hand stays between us, smile barely faltering. A few heartbeats pass before he gives me a single nod. "Deal. "
I grip his offered hand, shaking it tight, a sense of pride blooming in my chest.
Not at myself. I'm not the one who did this.
The pride is for my wife. She's the one who made this happen.
And I can't wait to show her my appreciation.