Chapter 32
Dax
“Ripley, can you take your damn hands off my daughter?” Sheriff Rose asks. Ripley, who is seated at a table with his wife on his lap, looks around as if he’s confused. I notice his hand slides up the slit of his wife’s dress while she feeds him cake.
“You mean my wife? Why would I take my hands off her?” Ripley gestures for his father-in-law to go, but the sheriff gets closer. So, Ripley plants a kiss on his wife’s lips. “She loves it when I touch her.”
“Well, I don’t. Get your damn hands off.” Ripley smirks and slides his hand higher up his wife’s thigh.
“Daddy, not too much on my husband, now,” Eden warns. “And husband, stop torturing my daddy.”
“Dandy, you want to dance with your old man? I taught you and your friends how to Dougie.” He starts to dance, and Rip rolls his eyes.
“I already told you. I’m your daddy now. But go ahead.” Ripley finally lifts his arm up. “This lap will be here waiting for you when you’re done.”
Sheriff Rose gives Rip a good dose of stink eye before he leads his daughter away.
“I should have killed him a decade ago,” Rip mutters.
“Well, you’re stuck with his ass now.”
“And you’re stuck with the good mayor.” Ripley practically snorts. “Fucking user.” He looks across the room and frowns at the mayor, who is chatting with his wife and Selene’s parents.
“My in-laws and I are just fine.” Something doesn’t sit right with how easy it was for Lamb to force his daughter’s hand to marry me.
“I bet.” King’s words hold a tinge of judgment. He looks across the room, and I follow his line of vision. Devin is talking to a pretty woman. He says something, and she blushes. “Good luck with that one.”
“I can handle him and everyone else in that family.”
King does a half-smile, half-smirk.
“Let me give you some advice.” He stands to his full height, and I hate that he’s taller than me.
“What the hell kind of advice can you give me?” I don’t say it, but he’s been alone mostly all his life. I met him after he aged out of foster care. He’s the very definition of a loner. The only person he can stand is his wife.
He looks around the room and spots his wife dancing with both her parents.
“You can’t control her family or how they interact.”
“You handled the sheriff.”
“If you think you can, you’re a fool. And you see her dumb ass brother over there?
” He tilts his head, and the fool is now whispering in the woman’s ear.
“From what I’ve heard, he’s always been an entitled little dickhead with a mean streak.
You better hope he doesn’t know that you used him to get your wife.
If he’s anything like his father, he’ll find the perfect opportunity to tell her, and you’re fucked.
I also hear he’s kind of an idiot. Good luck handling an entitled idiot, Hunt.
” He takes a step and stops. “And the sheriff’s a lot of things, but he’s not dumb.
You don’t have that luxury with your new brother. ”
I check my watch. I'm ready to call it a night and be alone with my wife, but she’s having fun on the dance floor with her friends and my mom. Bad Girl by Usher comes on, and all the women take turns dancing in the middle of a makeshift circle.
When it’s Cori’s turn, I join her, pull her back into my chest, and rub myself on her ass. When the song ends, I pick her up bridal-style and carry her out to the cheers of our guests.
There’s a car waiting for us, and after setting her inside, I get behind the wheel and drive her home to the house I took her to after we got engaged. There’s nowhere else I’d want to spend our first night as man and wife.
About half an hour later, after showering in one of the guest rooms, I wait for her, alongside a bottle of champagne and a platter of fresh strawberries.
I’m in nothing but a pair of black pajama pants and no shirt. My dick is already hard at the anticipation of tonight.
I knew almost from the beginning that I wanted her. I approached it scientifically at first—cataloging every habit, mapping her movements, watching how her family moved so I could slip into the gaps.
Learning their rhythms was like tracing a vein to the heart of what I wanted; knowing her father’s flaws and weaknesses, I found the door I needed.
It worked. Taking over the business was part of the plan, just like amassing influence and wealth while I lived in plain sight.
I smiled at the right people, bought loyalty when needed, and traded favors when necessary.
Money filled my pockets, but I was hollow inside.
There was an emptiness that things could not fill.
That feeling was so familiar that I thought it was a part of me until I noticed her watching.
From that moment, a quiet fascination that felt like a spark grew.
After that weekend, there was no mistaking it.
She was what I needed to fill that emptiness that lived inside of me.
I did what I’ve always done in the past. I hunted her, and when she was in my grasp, I pulled the lever, and she’s now my wife.
Everything I’ve wanted, I’ve gotten, but there’s a certain thrill in getting Corine Lamb. There were moments I didn’t think it would work, but I was wrong. She’s here now. She’s mine. She’s angry, but it’s my job to show her that will to do right by her.
The door to the adjoining bathroom opens, and I turn my back to pour the champagne. I hold up two flutes and face my wife. I almost drop both of them.
She’s not in the sexy, white lace nightie I had delivered to her this morning. She’s in an old, faded blue house dress. It’s the kind with snap buttons that my mother wears around the house while cooking.
The ugly housedress is the least of it. She’s wearing a black bonnet and mismatched socks.
“No champagne for me. No strawberries either. I don’t like them.”
“Really? I find that funny since you ate about five pounds of them at my mother’s the other night.”
She ignores me and puts a hand on her belly.
“I avoid alcohol that time of the month.” She makes a face.
“Aunt Flo just crashed this party.” She sits on the bed and lies back, all while groaning like an old woman.
“Would you mind warming up my heating pad?” She points to a plastic bag in the corner.
“Just put it in the microwave for a minute. I’d do it myself, but the pain is at a ten, and I don’t know where the kitchen is in this mausoleum. ”
She puts a dramatic hand to her forehead and moans again, only louder and more exaggerated this time. “I don’t like this house. It’s too big and impersonal. I still want it, though. I can sell it to an idiot, megalomaniac like you.”
“You have your period?” No part of me believes this performance.
“Yeah. When you’re downstairs, can you make me some tea? Chamomile, if you have it. And I think it’s best if you sleep somewhere else. I get night violent on my period.”
“Night violent?”
“Yeah. I kick and punch in my sleep. Sometimes I bite and scratch. It’s called menstrual psychosis syndrome, or MPS for short.”
“I’ve never heard of this.”
“Why would you? Are you a woman? Have you ever menstruated, Daxton? Do you release an egg each month? Do your uterine muscles contract to shed their lining?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m not a woman, therefore, I don’t have a uterus, but I’m not ignorant about how things work.” I rub my hand over my face. “And this performance is not convincing. Not in the least.”
She rolls onto her stomach and winces. Her house dress rides up, and she’s in a pair of faded gray shorts. “My heating pad and tea, please.” She waves me away.
“I don’t care if you’re on your period. I still want to make love to you.”
“Sorry, but no. It looks like a crime scene down there. You’ll have to wait a couple of weeks.”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah. That’s how long my period lasts. Sometimes longer. You have no idea how hard it is to be a woman. I can’t even get a cup of tea from the asshole who promised to be a good husband. Do I have to do every God damn thing myself around here? Sheesh.”
I open the door and slam it shut. Cori jumps out of bed and looks stunned when she sees me still standing there. I approach, grab the hideous house dress, and yank it open.
There’s an even uglier one underneath. I lift that over her head, and her breasts bounce. I pull the waistband of her shorts. She does her best to move my hand, but I don’t let go.
While I have the waistband pulled, I stick my free hand into her panties. I rub her pussy from her clit to her opening. There’s no tampon or pad. I pull my hand out and wave it in the air.
“No blood. Imagine that. Once again, you’ve proven that you’re a little liar.”
“At least I’m not a psychopath.”
I lift her off her feet and toss her on the bed. Before she can get situated, I climb on top of her and smother her protest with my mouth.
It takes her a few seconds to kiss me back, but when she does, I manage to pull my pants down with my free hand and kick them off.
“No,” she says against my mouth.
“No, what, Bella?”
“I don’t want to fuck you.”
“Really? We’ll see.” I drown her protest again and pull down the ugly shorts along with her panties. “I want this pussy, and you’re going to give it to me.”
“No.” She shoves at my chest. “Get off.” The kiss deepens, and when she opens her mouth to breathe, I slide my tongue inside. My hand slides underneath her. I cup her ass and pull her onto my dick and grind.
“Mmhmm,” she moans.
“Yeah. Mmhmm.” I grind again. “Open your legs for me, sweetheart.” She does without hesitation. I want to slide right in and ride her until we both scream out in ecstasy, but I slide down her body, stick my head between her legs, and lick her clit.
“Oh, fuck.” Her hand lands on my head. I tease her clit with the tip of my tongue before I stick it inside her entrance, driving her crazy. I lift my head from her pussy and go back up her body.
“So wet for your husband, baby.” I slide a finger inside of her, and she’s drenched. I lick my finger and put it in her mouth. She sucks it like it’s a lifeline. “You see how good you taste.”
I smother her response with a kiss, then I align myself at her entrance. “Yes?”
“Yes, you son of a bitch.” I slide in and fill her to the brim. “Oh, God, yes.”
I had planned on making sweet love to her. I was going to make her scream out in ecstasy, but she threw that out the window. I pull out, and she groans in protest. “You don’t deserve to have it nice and slow.”
I lift her and position her on her hands and knees. I get behind her and slide in.
“Uh,” she moans. I slip an arm around her to keep her in place and ride her rough and hard.
She doesn’t complain. She throws her head back.
I yank off the ugly bonnet, grab her hair, and pull her head back.
My plan was to come first and deny her what she obviously wants, but she calls out and shudders.
She puts her head down, and I slap her ass cheeks hard and in quick succession before I grab her hips.
I pound into her a few more times before euphoria overtakes me, and I spill inside of her.
I land on her back, and we both fall onto the bed. I roll off her sweaty body, and she moves to her side and gives me her back.
She covers herself and doesn’t say a word.
Exhausted from all the events leading up to today, I close my eyes, and everything goes dark.
The first thing I notice when my eyes snap open is that the bed is empty.
I know she didn’t leave the property because the alarm would have gone off and woken me.
I rummage around and find my phone. After opening my alarm app, I find her in the kitchen wearing that ugly housedress. I make a note to burn it tomorrow.
After finding my pants, I go in search of my wife. By the time I get down there, she has a piece of cake in front of her that’s big enough to feed three people. The tea kettle whistles, and I pour the hot water into the mug and the teabag she had prepared.
I bring it and sit next to her at the island. I look from her to the cake, and I’m surprised when she puts the spoon to my mouth and feeds me.
We don’t speak while we eat the sweet, decadent dessert. She goes so far as to offer me some of her tea. It’s disgusting, but I don’t pass up on the sweet gesture.
“I still can’t stand you.” The words come out just before she shoves more cake in my mouth.
“Don’t stand, then. Sit.”
“Why did you do this to me?”
“What? Make love to you?”
“Trap me.”
“You’re not trapped, sweetheart. You can have and do whatever you want.
” I put my hand on her thigh. “Can we not fight for a while? Can we act like honeymooners? I want to go back to bed, make sweet love to my wife, and fall asleep with her in my arms. Then, I want to wake up. Make love to you again before bringing you breakfast in bed.” I lean in and kiss her temple.
“I’ve been lonely, Bella.” I tap the bottom of her chin.
“Even when I have people around me, I’m lonely. But not when you’re around.”
She doesn’t give me an answer, but she doesn’t move away. She feeds me more cake, then she finds a fruit bowl in the fridge, which we share.
We leave the kitchen a mess. I pick her up and carry her back to the bedroom. This time, I slowly remove the ugly dress. I sit her on the bed and take off the mismatched socks. I take my time and kiss every inch of her body, paying special attention to her brown, pebbly nipples.
When I slide inside of her for the second time tonight, she calls my name. I love her slowly this time. I taste every available inch of her. Her pussy becomes so wet that she drips on my legs. Soon, her eyes roll to the back of her head. She shudders in my arms and whispers my name when she comes.
I follow soon behind her.
This time, she doesn’t move away. She stays in my arms, and I kiss her temple. She runs her palm on my chest, and when she closes her eyes and falls asleep, I’m soothed by her even breathing.