Chapter 7
Wraith
This was not how I planned on spending my wedding night.
Not that I had any real plans to start with, but bathing my dog, putting on a new diaper, and getting her hooked back into her wheelchair, then coming out and finding my new bride on her knees in her ruined wedding dress, scrubbing poop off the floor and walls.
That wasn’t exactly a part of even the most sordid fantasy and let me be the first to say, I know sordid.
I’m not a romantic bastard, but even I know that this isn’t going to cut it.
Yet… she looks almost happy on her knees.
She hasn’t heard me come out into the living room yet, she’s so absorbed in what she’s doing.
She looks adorable like that, her tight round ass in the air, her forehead knitted in concentration, her teeth sunk into her lower lip, a slight red tinge riding high on her cheekbones from the effort.
Lord, she’s more than adorable.
She’s completely fuckable.
My cock rears to attention. Great. Just when it had finally calmed down, the permaboner is back.
I’m a sick bastard, staring at her like that when she doesn’t know I’m there and she’s cleaning up shit.
Still. I can’t help but imagine what she’d look like without that damn dress, how pretty and sweet her ass would be.
What her cunt would look like split open and glistening wet for me.
Fuuucccckkkkk.
I cut that shit off at the pass. This woman is my wife, like it or not, probably for the foreseeable future. I want to make an effort to get along, not scare the shit out of her with my raging desire and swollen cock.
It shocks the hell out of me, the fact that I want her as badly as I do.
I’ve had a lot of sex. A good chunk of it, I was so drugged up I can’t even really remember what went on.
Most of it was just scratching a damn itch.
I’m ashamed to say that it meant less than nothing more often than it meant anything at all, because it never meant anything.
“Oh…” Leena whirls and finds me standing ten feet behind her.
Her cheeks heat up a bright, pretty pink that makes my cock throb. Her lips part in shock and again, I imagine them wrapped around the base of my dick, taking me straight to the back of her throat until her lips touch my balls.
“Thanks for doing that,” I force out, because it’s more sanguine than telling her to stay on her knees and open her mouth. “Let me take over. I have a mop around here somewhere.”
She hesitates for a minute then slowly nods as she pushes to her feet. “It’s alright. I- yeah. It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“If you want to shower, I can set something up for you. Shit. I brought you here without any of your clothes, didn’t I?”
She nods again, worrying her bottom lip the whole time, until it’s even more lush and pillowy soft than it normally is. “Yeah. I’m sure my dad and brothers will drop it off tomorrow. I don’t have anything to wear tonight, and honestly, I’d really like to get out of this dress.”
“We could burn it, if you want.”
Her incredible hazel eyes go wide and my hand itches for a brush again. I want nothing more than to spend hours trying to capture those beautiful greens, golds, and browns that make up her irises.
“I think it’s called trash the dress. Not burn the dress. I wouldn’t want to be in it again, that’s for sure.”
“Trash the dress? That’s actually a thing?”
“I think so. It’s when people get photos after their wedding, ruining the dress.
I don’t think it’s a thing anymore.” She glances down at herself.
“Honestly, I think it would be a little late even if it was. You did a number on it when you split the sides. And the hem… well… it might have a few dubious stains on it now.”
“Shower it is.” I decide for her. “I’ll set out a t-shirt and some shorts for you. I’m sure you won’t want to wear my shit, but it’s better than wearing Abby’s.”
I give that a second to sink in and when it does, she offers me a slow, reluctant smile that is still the most beautiful thing in the whole damn world.
“Are you one of those funny people? The ones with that dry sense of humor that is always making jokes and no one really realizes, but when they do, it’s actually pretty hilarious? ”
“I prefer to think of myself as more of a smart ass, actually. Most of the time, people definitely know when they’re the brunt of my jokes.”
She laughs, and though it’s just a short little tinkling noise, it’s wondrous. I want to make her laugh more often.
“Shower it is then,” she agrees. “But I hope you have a guest room.”
“I don’t. I’ll take the couch tonight and you can have my bed. I should have thought this out. I guess I hoped…” I pause. She doesn’t need to know what filth was going through my mind. “I can clear out my storage room and get a bed. Sort that out tomorrow…”
“I can’t take your bed. And you can’t sleep on the couch, you’d be hanging half off it. I’ll take it, no arguments,” she says.
I shrug. “Okay. If you want it, you’re welcome to the couch. It’s not much, but it might be more comfortable than sleeping with me.”
Because I can’t seem to fucking control myself or get my dick to goddamn deflate today and I doubt you want to wake up with that in your back. Or other places…
“I have some extra blankets. If it gets too uncomfortable, we can try something else for tomorrow night. We have a lot to figure out.” The words hurt like a physical blow, but somehow, I force them out.
Like a cock punch. They hurt like someone just took their fist to my dick, because I don’t want her on the couch and I hope she finds it lumpy as fucking hell.
I hope it has loose springs that dig into her back.
I hope it’s the worst sleep of her life.
I don’t want her out there. I want her in my bed, curled next to me, that gorgeous hair draped all around her like an erotic curtain as she rides my dick, her dusky nipples sharpened to little straining buds with pleasure, her skin flushed with desire, her throaty cries echoing through the little house.
Goddamn it. I seriously need to take a fucking shower. And jack myself off while I’m at it. It’s not just my dick that hurts. It’s everything, every single place that hasn’t bothered with that kind of sensation in a very long time. And yeah. I should be fucking worried.
Because I have no idea what that means.
“We do have a lot of things to figure out,” Leena agrees gently, in that gorgeous soft voice that wraps around me and ramps up that brutal slow burn. “But maybe not tonight. It’s late. And I’d hate to talk about kicking Abby out of what is no doubt her prime spot. She’d be put out for life.”
As if summoned, Abby wheels into the room, all doggy smiles, tongue hanging out adorably. She doesn’t have the ability to wag her tail anymore, but if she could, I know it would be swaying madly as she looks up at Leena.
Leena puts out her hand. “Aww, hey girl. Are you feeling better after a bath?”
Jesus. If my body wasn’t ridiculously drawn to this woman before, now those long dormant soft spots, the damn squishy parts of my chest, are starting to cave in too.
What the hell is she doing to me? How can one woman be forced into my life and already have more of an impact than anyone else before her?
It scares me shitless. And not much has the power to terrify me after the life I’ve already lived.
Abby rolls forward and sniffs at Leena’s outstretched palm for a second before she slowly extends her big pink tongue and licks it.
Leena’s face is transformed into a thing of absolute radiant joy.
She looks like a fucking angel and I’m done.
Gutted by the absolute love I see filling up those hazel irises.
The gold flecks glow an even brighter gold and the green shines like emeralds in their dark velvet blanket of brown.
Honestly, I’m standing there, my heart bleeding all over the floor because this woman loves my dog, and my dog, who is scared of ninety-nine percent of the world, seems to love her too, when a rough knock at the door sends it all to hell.
Abby goes skittering away to hide in the kitchen under the table, like she usually does, and Leena straightens.
The change that sweeps over her is dramatic.
She loses all her innocent, unguarded sweetness and instead, that steel rod is back in her spine.
Her shoulders hunch forward and I can literally watch as her jaw sets into a hard tic.
This girl has more defiance and vinegar in her than most men three times her size.
My cock strains the endurance of the stupid slacks that I really want to get off, douse with gasoline, and dispatch to the tux afterlife.
I tear my eyes from Leena and stride towards the door.
I rip it open, already furious that someone had the nerve to interrupt that special moment of bonding for my dog, and for a woman that I can already see was forced to grow up far before her time.
I can tell, one fellow survivor to another.
All the hallmark signs are there. Never mind that her piece of shit father just sold her off to better himself.
There are other marks, rendered all over her body like invisible strikes, bruises that I can’t see.
It makes the animal in me want to crawl out from under my civilized skin and tear apart anyone who left those marks there, imprinted on her soul.
Because whatever the circumstances, she’s mine now.
It’s a lucky thing that I find two bastards on my doorstep, enough to distract me from the base, alpha fucking chant ripping through my bloodstream.
I stare down a big fucker with a cropped head of dark hair.
He’s probably almost seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds, but looks slow as fuck with all that bulk and probably has the brainpower to match.