Chapter Eleven Mr. and Mrs. Silverman #2
But this is her wedding day. A magical day for brides, so they say. I’m glad her tastes run to sweet, simple, and uniquely her own, if only because we can get away a little sooner.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Boy, do I.
“If one more relative wants to hear all about our whirlwind romance, I’ll scream,” I hiss.
“I have a better way to make you scream,” Sam promises.
“I hope it’s not because our car is going to break down halfway to Niagara Falls,” I hint.
“Ah. You didn’t see Professor Llwellyn’s wedding gift, did you?”
“I thought you said it hadn’t been delivered.” My eyebrows quirk as I clap politely. My uncle just made a speech. The church ladies are serving the cake we cut twenty minutes ago. Mother is dithering about Eddie eating three slices while no one was looking.
“Lionel delivered it for us. If we can make a quick getaway in the next hour, I’ll let you see it. And that might mean we get to our hotel tonight instead of tomorrow,” he hints. “Tonight—while we still have energy to enjoy it, that is.”
“Henry,” I grab my brother as he pushes past, plucking fretfully at his tie, “How’d you like to get out of that starched collar sooner?”
“I’d pay you a nickel,” he teases with a little smile.
“Go tell everyone we have a plane to catch.”
“But you—”
“And then tell Eddie to start lining people up to grab handfuls of rice to throw. He’ll like that.”
“You two might end up as the first bride and groom riddled with rice buckshot,” he mutters, and takes off.
“We don’t have a plane to catch, sweetie,” Sam chuckles, one eyebrow arched, looking so devilishly handsome I might scream.
“But they don’t know that,” I whisper. “That’s a you and me secret.” I lean closer, close as a wife can lean in public, and rest my hand high up on his inner thigh. “I think there were some other secrets you were going to show me tonight, weren’t there?”
“You’re making my wolf restless for his mate,” he growls, low and soft.
My insides tighten, and I imagine all of Sam’s smooth, hard inches pressing between my legs, pounding into me. “Please, Sam, let’s hurry,” I all but gasp, gripping his leg hard.
“Hargreaves. I need an extraction and a strategic retreat for one bride and groom,” Sam suddenly snaps to Lionel Hargreaves as he dances past with my cousin Patty.
“Sir, yes, sir,” he gives a wink and a salute, and disappears.
In moments, Susan and I are roaring down the highway in the latest model Ford makes, a new 1934 V8 that hasn’t been released to the public yet. It purrs like a kitten and hits seventy like it’s twenty.
“Mrs. Silverman. I like it,” I muse.
“I approve. And I approve of this. It’s gorgeous. Llwellyn shouldn’t have done it.” Susie runs her hand over the gleaming interior.
“Well, he has a pretty young wife, too. Young to him, I mean. And pretty to him,” I gulp, wondering if a wolf can accidentally end up in the doghouse. “He’d want to whisk her away to a private destination at top speeds.”
“I know what you meant.” Susie’s face clouds briefly. “I hope that new love helps them both.”
“My sweet girl. It will. I know it will.” The corpse was indeed Etienne, and there was indeed a massive, ragged bite on his left leg, the back of the thigh.
That makes me happy, in a small way. It looks like it was an accident, an attack.
He was an operative for Germany, we’ve since discovered, but that doesn’t mean they knew what he was.
I have hope that monsters will never be used in war—not in any large-scale way.
“You think he knew what it was like to want to speed away from overbearing relatives?” Susie laughs. “Is that what you’re driving at?”
“Terrible puns will get you twenty lashes with a wet noodle,” I tease, pinching her knee. “Say, do you want to get out of this? I know your mother said she had your blue travel dress all laid out. Did you grab it?”
“I have it, but I’m not sure I want to change.” Susie’s face darkens to a raspberry ripple.
“Tell me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I thought... I guess I thought about you taking it off of me. Like unwrapping a present.”
My heart is hammering in my throat at the thought of unwrapping Susie from her bridal gown and slipping into the warm, wet pussy I’ve barely sampled. “You thought I’d like that.”
“Uh-huh,” her voice is high and breathless.
“You were right. But the question is, would you like it? I would love you in anything. Or nothing. And I understand women usually have bridal attire for their wedding nights.”
“Oh, I do. It’s pink and sheer, and when I showed Loula, she about fainted. Maudie just asked how much it cost.”
“I thought white was traditional, not that I’m complaining.”
“It is, but they didn’t have a white one in stock when I went into the city. All the other June brides ordered early, you know.”
“I’m sorry it was so rushed. I think I’ve been terribly selfish,” I take Susie’s hand and kiss it. “That banking inspector probably will take one look at my proposal and laugh.”
“Find out what he likes to eat,” Susie says with a grin. “Mother told me that’s how I charm a husband. I intend to use other methods on you, Mr. Silverman. But a bank inspector? How about a ham dinner with cherry and cream pie?”
I nod, but the sounds I make are lustful, inarticulate growls.
“Now, listen, cherries are in season, and I saw them at the groceries. Plus, if that doesn’t work, Grandma Spade’s wedding gift was a whole crate of canned sour cherries and peaches, and we can use those.”
“It’s not the pie. It’s... It’s that there are terms that I heard at my stag party that a lady shouldn’t hear. And don’t be alarmed, I shut up all that bawdy talk right away. It was just some of the young, unmarried fellows. The ones who get it the least talk about it the most,” I soothe.
“As if a little bawdy talk would bother me,” Susie snuggles closer, and her hand slides into my lap. “Why, husband of mine! We won’t be there until close to sunset at these speeds. Why are you so ready so early?” Her lips caress my jaw, and her breast presses into my arm.
“My wife keeps tempting me,” I growl, turning my head to snatch a kiss before she can retreat. Not that she does. She’s not afraid of me. She loves me, and my secrets are safe with her.
“Come on, tell me. If you tell me, I’ll make sure I pass on any juicy lady gossip from Maudie and Loula,” she offers with a pout.
“Oh, they were just talking about me getting your ‘cherry.’ It’s nothing. It’s... It’s because there can be a little bleeding the first time, but a lot of women might not bleed at all. Not with time and patience. And then cream... I... That was my fault.”
“Because I’m going to look so good, covered in your cream. Oh! And your cream and my ‘cherry’ will mix? And you... That’s something you like?”
“Maybe because I have some urges from the wolf to fill you up. No, that’s a scapegoat.
I have those same urges, sweetheart. I can’t wait to be inside of you.
Finish inside of you, with you finishing around me.
Together.” I wait and pray I haven’t offended my new wife on our wedding night.
In truth, the wolf is excited by the thoughts of her blood, of her body full of me, of every scent and sight that’s intimate and taboo.
I always thought I’d escaped infection from the evil of the wolf.
Now, I fear it’s taken a different form.
My head is swimming the closer we get to the hotel, and it’s still hours away.
Susie’s scent is thicker, like juice that I breathe in, now flavored with cherries simply by suggestion.
My fingers flex on the wheel, nerves and self-control fighting a losing battle as I wait for her answer.
Susie simply smiles. “I think most men and women are too squeamish. If more husbands and wives talked like us, there wouldn’t be men like Mr. Johnson chasing other girls around. Divorce rates wouldn’t be going up.”
“Mmhm,” I make another strangled snarl of agreement.
“Sam, what in the world...”
“Heat. Mate. Want to make love with you. For hours. That’s all.” Short sentences are easiest.
Susie, my wonderful angel, looks at me with concern in her eyes—and then unbuttons my fly, scoots her hand inside, and lifts my throbbing hardness out. “Sweet Lord!” she gasps. “That’s gotten bigger, hasn’t it?”
I nod. The knot is bigger. More swollen. Even the tip looks different. Wider, flatter, redder. “Monstrous,” I say, fighting her hand away.
“Now, stop that! Sam, don’t be silly. You keep driving, I’ll make you feel better. Although maybe we’d better pull over when you’re close.”
“Close to the hotel? Honey, it will easily be another five ho-houuuuuuu—” My words fade into a long, lingering howl of pleasure as my bride scoots herself onto her side, drops down low in my lap and sucks my cock into her mouth.
If someone sees us, this will end up with us in the papers and me in the pokey. If I hit a bump, I’m going to smack her head with my elbow. I probably will be too busy moaning and being worked to a frenzy to drive.
Susie lifts her head. “Will you teach me how to drive one day?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
She licks around the crown. “Is it always going to look so red and irritated, sweetie? Or just during this ‘heat’ phase?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s okay. I love you either way.” Susie blithely returns to sucking away, one hand now massaging my knot.
“You don’t have to do this,” I protest, but it’s a faint protest at best.
“Oh, well, it’s selfish, Sam. If I give you a little release now, you’ll be able to last longer later, right?”
I look down and watch my beautiful wife, all in white, with her laughing eyes and her soft, sensuous mouth, taking most of my cock in one long, greedy gulp.
“I sure hope that’s the case. Whether it is or not, Mrs. Silverman, you’re going to come until you fall asleep exhausted with a smile on your face, in your husband’s arms.”