: Chapter 11
The vision of my wife standing on the rocky shore, staring off into the pristine blue water, her long blonde hair whipping in the breeze as we watch the sun set, will forever be burned to memory.
I didn’t think it was possible for there to be a more beautiful bride than she was last week. But the way she looks tonight, in a lace, full-length, nude-colored dress with a crown of flowers resting atop her head? With the water kissing her bare feet? So simple, yet elegant. Such a timeless beauty. Without question, I was mistaken.
I take a deep inhale of the salty air, letting it cleanse me of any lingering stress. I signed away the weight of the world when we endorsed that marriage license today. “We did it,” I say, pulling her close and planting a kiss to the top of her head. “After all these years, you’re finally, truly mine.”
“No take backs,” she teases, pinching my side.
“Never.”
“It’s so beautiful, Lyle.” Her voice has a dreamlike quality as she takes in the orange and purple glow where the sun is quickly disappearing behind the waves.
When Anika showed me this place, I knew it’d be the perfect spot to spend our honeymoon. The pictures did it no justice.
The little coastal city of Carmel is a well-kept secret among the crowded beaches and fast life our home state is known for. Our rental is located on a half-mile expanse of private beach. The house itself sits on a rocky peninsula and is surrounded by water on three sides. Floor to ceiling windows throughout provide panoramic views of our little slice of paradise. This weekend trip is meant to be a prelude to the real deal, which’ll have to wait until things are more settled with Mr. Wayne and I’ve finished recording, but aside from only having two days, it doesn’t much feel like we’re settling.
“It’s not bad.” I tip her face up and press a tender kiss to her lips. “But you should see my view.”
“When did you become such a romantic?” She turns into me lacing her arms around my neck.
“Don’t get used to it.” I peck at her nose, splaying a hand over her bare back. “Don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“What the lady wants, the lady—”
Before I can finish my sentence, she’s risen to her toes and is molding her eager lips to mine. I could stay right here for hours and never grow tired.
Kissing her is an endless fall, that stomach-in-your-throat sensation that breeds adrenaline junkies. I’m flying, soaring, tumbling without a care in the world, because the only thing I’ve ever needed is right here in my arms.
I cup the nape of her neck, angling her head for better access, kissing her softly, slowly, savoring the high.
I want to bottle this moment. The taste of her lips. The smell of the ocean. The warmth of the setting sun.
“Come home with me,” I beg against her lips. It’s a conversation I meant to save for the morning. I want to kick myself as soon as the words slip out because the timing couldn’t be worse. I just pray I haven’t gone and killed the mood.
She pulls away, swiping the back of a hand over her kiss swollen lips. “To Nashville?”
I nod, staring into her storm-filled eyes.
“But my dad…” Her face falls. She doesn’t want to disappoint me and is clearly apprehensive about leaving him. The last thing I want is to make any of this harder on her.
“I know,” I say, pulling her face to my chest. “I just thought…it’s fine. We can wait.”
“Hey,” she says, reaching up to cup my cheek. “What if we start with the weekends? Just until we see how things progress with my dad?” She sucks her teeth, recoiling as if she’s just remembered something. “After next weekend, that is…Dad has to be admitted for his treatment and I—I want to be there.”
“Of course you need to be there.” I smooth a hand along the back of her head, twirling the ends of her hair. “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right? We’ll be bulletproof by the time this is over.”
She giggles into my chest. “I guess we will.”
“So, you’re not opposed to moving?” I ask, needing to put that fear to rest. It’s been a constant worry since the thought first crossed my mind days ago. Since realizing we’d made no plans for our future together before rushing to the altar.
She scoffs. “If I were, I certainly wouldn’t have married a rock star.”
“I would give it all up for you, you know.” I clutch her hair in a fist, squeezing her body tightly to mine. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I would never ask that of you.” She clears her throat. “I can be happy anywhere, as long as we’re together. I just want to get through a few more appointments and make sure Daddy’s treatments continue working before moving so far away.”
“I think I can live with that.”
She stares up at me. Her radiant smile bursting with gratitude. Her eyes filled with mischief. “The sun has set.”
“It has.”
“Your boner has not.” Reaching between us, she fondles the bulge in my pants.
I huff out a laugh that turns into a moan. “No. It hasn’t.”
“I’m soaked,” she volunteers, batting her lashes. “And I don’t just mean the bottom of my dress.”
“Wow.” I scoop her into my arms, because I can take a hint, especially when she’s practically beating me over the head with it. “That was a bit forward.”
“Would you rather I play coy?” She swirls a finger in circles around my nipple, innocently, like she doesn’t know she’s driving me wild. “Pretend I haven’t gone to bed dreaming of that piercing all week since you left me with a blue bean?”
I nearly slip on the rocky path up to the house I’m so shocked by her response. “Samantha Livingston!”
She starts to laugh, but it’s cut short. Her eyes widen as if something’s just occurred to her. “I sure hope you didn’t fuck this all up with that tattoo!”
I consider screwing with her, but the look on her face cautions me against it. “It’s thin script. I have a clear adhesive to put over it. Don’t worry, love. I came prepared.”
Her only response is a curt, but satisfied nod.
“Dinner first?” I ask, once we’ve crossed the threshold into the house, “or would you rather dessert?”
With a finger aimed at the master, she narrows her eyes. “I’ve waited six long years for this. Sure, hope you’ve got what it takes to live up to my wild imagination.”
“Oh, it’s like that huh?” I speed walk to the bedroom, twisting this way and that to avoid knocking over any of the knickknacks with her feet.
“Just saying, I gave myself two orgasms Monday night alone.” She waggles her brows. “That piercing was great rub hub material.”
Rub hub? Where the hell does she come up with this shit?
“Two, huh?” Still chuckling, I set her to her feet. “Then I’ll be sure to deliver three.”
Her teeth clamp down on her lower lip as she stares after me with hunger blazing in her eyes. “Unzip me?”
“With pleasure.” I pull her front flush to my chest and reach around to lower the zipper at the small of her back. When I lean in for a kiss, she starts walking away with measured backward steps.
“I bought something special to wear for you tonight.” She lets the thin straps slip just past her shoulders, just enough to tease.
Heat surges to my dick. “Did you?”
She nods, roving her eyes over me like I’m a piece of meat. “Feel free to lose the suit while I’m away.”
With that she spins on her heels and rushes off to the en suite, leaving me gaping after her.
It doesn’t take long for me to snap out of it and strip down to my birthday suit. This is normally the point where I’d give my cock a few strokes, making sure he’s presentable for the upcoming performance. But he’s doing quite the job himself. Just the thought of slipping between her thighs has a bead of moisture seeping from the tip.
I wish I’d thought to find some silk boxers or a Hugh Heffner robe or some shit for the occasion. I don’t even know if grooms do that. But I feel a little ill prepared knowing she’s getting all sexified on the other side of that door and I’m just…naked. And while that in itself is very impressive, it doesn’t require much thought.
I’m feeling a little disappointed in myself until I remember the gift the guys gave me at my bachelor party that I tossed into my suitcase.
Must’ve been kismet at work again because it couldn’t be more perfect.
Snickering the whole time, I retrieve my “outfit” and put it on, eager for her reaction. While I’m at it, I apply the adhesive plastic patch to my tattoo to keep it protected.
Then, I wait.
Ten excruciating minutes go by before the click of the doorknob finally signals her impending arrival.
The door swings open, narrowly missing my face, and out walks the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen—Li’l Bit, scantily clad in white lace and ribbon. Her tits are spilling out of a sheer bra. Her rosy nipples are hard as stone, pushing through two little peepholes. Ay caramba.
I forget how to breathe. Forget my own name. Forget that I’m standing here with a blow-up ball and chain dangling from my dick until she disrupts my ogling with her obnoxious laughter.
“Jesus Christ, Lyle!” she spits out between guffaws. “Way to ruin a girl’s entrance.”
“Judging by the fact that your hostage here has swollen up to the point that the cuff has cut off his blood supply, I’d say you nailed that entrance, love.”
“Are you serious?” She bends to examine the situation. “You aren’t kidding. This is really tight.” She sounds rattled. “Should I look for some scissors?” Sammi moves to the dresser and starts opening drawers, one after another. “A knife maybe?”
“Woman, you aren’t getting anywhere near my dick with a knife.”
I reach for the valve on the underside of the cuff and let the air out.
“Oh.” She shrugs, attempting and failing to slink over sexily. It could be the snort that kills it for her. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Gotta say, that your mind instantly went to sharp objects kinda scares me, Li’l Bit.”
“Fuck around and find out.” She takes the deflated cock-stume from me, spinning it around on one finger before flinging it across the room. “Cute.”
“That’s what I was going for.”
“Yeah?” she says, palming my erection. “Well, I was going for seductive.”
“Looks like we both delivered.” I fight the urge to throw my head back and moan as she continues stroking me. “Consider me seduced.”
I trail the back of a hand over her right breast. “You have beautiful nipples.”
“Thanks?” She arches a brow. “I think.”
“Are they always so…hard?”
“Umm.” She squirms as I roll the pad of my thumb over the firm bud. “It’s the pregnancy.” A sharp hiss blows threw her lips. “They’re very ummm…oh—”
She loses her train of thought when I lean forward and give it a hard suck then bite down gently.
“They’re very?” I ask, nibbling and flitting my tongue over the tip.
“Sensitive,” she squeaks.
“I wonder…”
“Yeah?”
“If I could get my first score without going below the belt.”
“You probably could, but I’d rather you not.”
Her tit slips from my mouth. “Rather me not?”
“I want your face between my legs, Lyle.” Fuck. Her shameless command fuels the desire burning through my veins.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” I brush both thumbs over the pebbled points, causing my bride to wriggle and writhe.
“More than Reese’s Pieces.” She reaches for my throbbing cock, but I step back and drop to my knees.
“You like those a lot,” I muse.
“More than sunsets, and rainbows, and… Oh, yesssss.”
I trail the tip of my nose along her inner thigh. Her scent driving me wild. “Those things are pretty magical.”
“Mmmhmm,” she sighs, digging her fingers into my hair and forcibly attempting to guide my head to her hungry pussy. “But they can’t compete with the stars.”
“You wanna see stars, love?” I nip and kiss along her bikini line, trailing my tongue up the curve of her hip.
“God, yes.” Her panting breaths and my pulse engage in a feverish battle toward the finish line as I begin to slowly advance, backing her toward the bed.
“You’re so sexy,” I say, gripping her waist and stroking my thumbs over her tiny baby bump. The slight swell of her abdomen is driving me insane. “You always were,” I add, pressing kisses over her stomach. “But fuck if these curves don’t make it damn near impossible to control myself.”
“Who says you have to?”
“This is a marathon, Li’l Bit, not a sprint.”
“Oh…” she says, shocked as her legs make contact with the mattress.
“Sit.”
She does without pause.
I wrench her legs apart, kissing my way from her inner knee to the lace thong shielding her cunt. “You smell so fucking good, baby,” I say, hovering a breath away from her clit. “Jesus, I can practically taste it.”
“Lyle,” she moans, pushing her hips forward, desperate for me to put my mouth on her.
“Lay back,” I say, placing open mouth kisses along her torso as I crawl in over her. “Good girl.”
She preens beneath my praise, sliding back to the middle of the mattress without much prodding.
“Such a good fucking girl.” I cup each of her tits in opposite hands, pinching her nipples where they’re jutting through the openings in her lingerie.
She bucks against me when I lower my mouth to her right breast, lapping my tongue over the swollen bud while tweaking with my fingers.
Sammi fists a hand into my hair, pulling as she thrashes beneath me. When her mumbled praise becomes a series of incoherent gibberish, I know she’s nearly there.
Propelled by her eagerness, I attack with renewed vigor, alternating between nipping and sucking each of her swollen breasts in turn. I have to remind myself not to lose control, so I won’t hurt her. The harder I bite down, the more ravenous she becomes.
“Mmm,” I groan, tugging her nipple between my teeth. “So, my sweet girl likes it rough…”
My assessment sends her hurtling over the edge. Eyes pulled tight, she arches from the bed moaning through her climax as she damn near rips my hair out from the roots.
“Fuck, yeah, Jailbait. Give it to me.”
I keep after it while she bucks beneath me, not slowing until her grip on my hair goes lax and she sags into the mattress, limp and panting.