Chapter 7
Emily
“Fuck me, Kicker. If I could have come up with a dream of what you would look like on our wedding day, this would be it. My balls are on fire.” A desperate groan escapes him as he tips his new dark chocolate felt Greenley with a shake of his head.
“So, you like?” I spin and start to twirl, but Roman is on me like a rattlesnake, his teeth sinking into that spot under my ear that is connected directly to my most delicate and desperate parts.
“You’re gonna be my wife, Emily, and I’m gonna fuck you so hard your legs are gonna stop working, and I’ll have to carry you around mounted on my dick for a week.”
“Sounds perfect. When do we start?”
He’s got me up and off the floor in a breath. The white corset bites into my ribs, rhinestones scattering light everywhere as layers of chiffon whip around my bare legs, and then my back slams into the rough wood wall of the small private room of the bar.
I giggle, the wind knocked out of me as the thump, thump of Hank Williams vibrates through the drywall, matching the spasms wrecking me down low.
“If I’d walked around your place in this, would I have broken Saint Roman?” I tease as he lifts my hips, then shoves them back down, working his cock under that layer of black denim onto my bare pussy like a washboard.
He groans. It sounds painful, and I reach into the front of my corset and tug my tits out, setting them free above the top hem of the fabric. Roman releases a sound like a growl from the depths of hell, that causes me to start shaking.
“Knowing you’re gonna be my wife in a matter of…” He swallows; his brow knotted as the friction down low has spasms running from my hips to my toes. “Minutes. I can count the minutes. Fuck.”
His face falls, head shaking, as I tighten my legs around his waist. God, this man is…hot.
Blazing. His jaw is bunched up in frustration. He wants to fuck me in such a ferocious way, for the first time what I see in his near-black eyes is a little scary.
“Are you hurting?” I ask, knowing the answer as I push my breasts together and upward, sucking my own nipple into my mouth, watching the effect it has on him through the fire in his eyes. “You want me to hurt, too, Daddy?”
I pinch my nipple between my teeth, sending darts of pain outward.
His labored breaths are husky, and I smell the scent of whiskey and Starlight peppermint on his breath as I buck my hips.
His eyes roll back; fluttering closed for a moment before he comes back online with a darkness on his face that sends ice down my spine.
“I won’t be able to fucking walk with this boner. What the fuck, Kicker?”
“I can fix it,” I say helpfully. I wiggle free of his grip, my tits swaying and bouncing as I gather the fabric of my skirts up and fall to my knees, my butt resting on the heels of my Lucchese’s and looking up at this magnificent dark man as I beg. “Please, daddy. I want to help you.”
“Baby.” He pushes the word through his teeth, the light and dark warring in his eyes.
“I’m so close to fucking you, but I can’t break my solemn vow.
I. Can’t. I won’t risk fucking you and breeding you without my last name behind yours.
Permanently. Legally. I. Won’t. You know why I have to do things this way. ”
My heart cracks in a hundred different ways I see that little boy I met all those years ago shining in his eyes.
All the pain from losing his mother. From knowing his father never knew he was alive.
It’s trauma bundled up as purpose, and I will not break this man. I will put him back together. Like he will do for me for the rest of our lives.
“I understand, cowboy. You won’t fuck me, and I’m a brat for constantly tempting you.
But I want this. I want to give you this, so you can concentrate on our vows.
You tell me, Roman Marshall, if you go out there all pent-up, you gonna even remember to say ‘I do’?
Or is it all gonna be a blur because you’re so horny you can’t see straight?
I want my husband to remember our wedding. This will help.”
I smile, my hands working the big silver buckle, the metal slinking then the button popping open from the pressure of his erection without me even touching it.
Lust crashes around inside me as I see the approval in his eyes.
I’ve sucked his cock more times than I can count in the time we’ve been together.
We’ve been exploring each other for years, right under the noses of our parents.
They might have some idea we’re sweet on each other, but they don’t know it all.
Thank God.
“I can’t wait to watch those tits bounce when I fuck you,” he rasps, running his tongue along his lips. “Suck Daddy. Suck him good.”
His demand makes me pulse down low. A spring in my tummy tightens and tightens as he releases a broken moan when I work the zipper down and his monstrous cock pops out, the head purple and leaking, and God, it does look painful.
“I will.” I work my hands up and down the heated steel shaft, tugging the head to my lips as the music outside the walls continues with the fast-thumping beat of Dasha.
There’s nothing more fulfilling than seeing the pleasure on this hard man’s face, knowing I’m the only source of it in his life.
I need to give him this now, even if we’re keeping people waiting.
I’m on fire down in my lady bits as I swipe my tongue along the slit, tasting him and letting that flavor remind me of who I am, because he tastes like home.
Nerves spark and zap over my skin as I stretch my lips wide and devour the head in one fast suck. Even with practice, taking him in my mouth is not an easy task, and I’m likely imagining it, but today he feels bigger and my lips have to stretch farther to accommodate his girth.
I hang on to the shaft with both hands, my fingers barely wrapping around as his hips immediately start to buck and his hands rake through my up-do, ruining it in one clench of those calloused fingers.
Saliva immediately drips from my lips down onto my breasts, and I’m sure my dress and corset will be wrecked by the time I leave this room.
I don't care. I want to be marked with this man in every way.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He roars to the ceiling, my jaw already aching as he works my head with his hands, shoving himself deeper, deeper. “I love that pretty mouth. You look like a cowboy’s wet dream down there on your knees, giving me head.
I’m moaning with him as he works my throat, the salty taste making something inside me come to life. I’m wild for him. It makes me feel free and feral, like when I’m riding hard around that last barrel.
His pleasure wakes something primal and purposeful in my DNA. His gratification is the balm to my soul. His praise lifts me up and puts me on a pedestal, even when I’m here on my knees.
“Suck, baby. Suck, lick, suck more. Fuck. I love how you suffer for me. Suffer to make Daddy feel good.”
Roman’s hips pump forward and back as I gack and gag, struggling to hold all of him in my mouth at once.
But he doesn’t stop. He knows when I’m in danger, and he also knows his wildness and demands feed me.
We feed on each other. Yin and yang. He’s the only man on this Earth who can tame me.
Who can make me want to please him more than myself.
His breathing is shaky as I swallow around him, my throat resisting then relenting as my eyes burn, tears streaming down, but even through the blur, I look up to see Roman looking down at me like I’m the most beautiful, precious creature he’s ever seen.
“God, I’m so fucking lucky.”
My hand pumps the silky skin of his shaft up and down even as I try to take him down my throat. I can’t serve his length completely. But, from the twitch that starts at the base of his shaft, it doesn’t matter.
“Here’s your prize for a job well done, baby. Swallow Daddy. Swallow what he gives you.”
The familiar pump, pump, on the underside of his cock sends me into my own small orgasm as the briny spurt of hot cream covers my tongue.
I swallow, and swallow, as more, more, more fills my mouth and throat, spilling from the corners of my lips until Roman’s bellow softens, and he pulls his cock from my mouth just as there’s a hard knock on the door.
“What?” He roars, pulling me, delirious and face fucked, from the floor. He works his cock into his pants, then helps me return my tits to their covered environment as oxygen starts to return to my brain.
The room is fuzzy as Carrie and Casey’s voices come through.
“We’re gonna be drunk by the time you get out here. Stop dry humping or whatever the hell you are doing in there and get out here! The preacher’s on his third shot of Weller.”
Roman smooths my hair back, his lips curled in a smile, his dimple on display. “On our way. One minute.”
“Now I want to eat that pussy.”
“Marry me, cowboy. Then you can feast, fuck and do all the things this pussy needs. But first, make me your wife.”