“I’d like to get a shot of you two cutting the cake,” the photographer said. When he had learned the charity party was actually Ashley’s wedding he almost fainted. And then when she generously told him he could sell three pictures to the local newspaper, he was rendered almost speechless. He had taken a picture of both the bride and the groom together, with Judge Palmer, with Mr. and Mrs. Byrnes, with Angelina and Frankie, with their friends. He had taken a picture of Ashley seated demurely with her wedding bouquet, and then he had taken another of her seated and Ryan standing behind her, his hand on her shoulder, her hand on his hand. At one point she turned to look up at him and smiled. The photographer had photographed that too. Now he took pictures of the bridal couple cutting their wedding cake while the guests mischievously hummed the forbidden tune. Ashley fed her new husband a bite of cake. The photographer snapped. Ryan fed Ashley a bit of cake, and some of the frosting got on her nose. She laughed, and the photographer snapped. The cake was served with miniature scoops of lemon sorbet.
It was evening, and the party was coming to an end. A stretch limo had arrived to take Ray and Rose Pietro d’Angelo, Angelina, and Frankie back into the city. The local guests were departing in their own cars. The top layer of the wedding cake was wrapped, boxed, and put in the freezer to celebrate their first anniversary. The servers were busily cleaning up. Byrnes and his missus had disappeared, probably to their own quarters.
Ashley turned to look at her new husband. “I guess we had better call your older sisters now,” she said.
“Yep,” he agreed. “Business first. And then pleasure.” Reaching out he pulled her into his arms and kissed her mouth gently. “I like the way you kiss, Mrs. Mulcahy.”
“Ditto,” she admitted as her cheeks warmed.
They went into the library, where there were two handsets for the telephone. Ryan pressed the appropriate buttons to set up the conference call, and then he dialed. “Bride, it’s Ryan. This is going to be a conference call with all of you, so hang on,” he told her, and before she could question him he moved on to the second number. “Betta, Ryan.” And he gave her the same message.
“How can you be certain they’re all at home?” Ashley asked.
“It’s Saturday night,” he said with a grin, and then he was speaking with his sister Kathleen, then Magdalena, and finally Deirdre. “Okay, girls, you all there?”
“Who’s died?” Bride, the eldest, wanted to know.
“Is Mom all right?” Magdelena demanded.
“Nobody’s died. Nobody’s been in an accident. Nobody’s been diagnosed with a wasting illness. Okay?” he said.
“So why a conference call with all of us?” Bride asked. “You know we have other things to do, Ryan, than listen to your foolishness.”
Ashley raised an eyebrow.
Jeez, nice sister
, she thought.
“I have an important announcement to make, girls,” Ryan said.
“You’re drunk,” Betta decided.
“Probably a little, because it’s been an exciting day. I got married today, girls. Ma and Frankie were here with us. Since the announcements go out on Monday I thought my big sisters would want to know before they arrived in the mail.”
There was a long, very deep silence, and then Bride said, “Who is this person you married? Some little gold digger who thinks she’s hit the jackpot by marrying you?”
“As a matter of fact, she’s richer than I am. And it’s old money, girls. Not new like ours. Old money. Beautiful home filled with antiques. Servants. Breeding and background. Her ancestors helped found the town.”
“What’s her name?” Kathleen demanded to know. “Just who is this rich girl?”
“Her name is Ashley Cordelia Kimbrough, and she’s beautiful, with hair the color of good mahogany, and green eyes that I get lost in every time I look into them,” he said.
“Oh, my God,” Betta groaned. Her brother sounded as if he were in love.
“Is this a joke, Ryan? Because if it is, it’s in very poor taste,” Bride snapped.
“No joke, Bride. I’m married. I have a beautiful wife, and now if you don’t mind I’m going to go off and spend a delightfully active wedding night with my bride. Actually, it was Ash who suggested I call you. She didn’t want your feelings hurt.”
“If she didn’t want our feelings hurt she could have asked us to the wedding,” Bride said acerbically.
“I didn’t want you here,” Ryan told his sisters bluntly. “You would have spoiled what has been an incredibly wonderful and happy day for us. I didn’t want my wife having to look back on our wedding day with unhappiness because the five of you were sniping at her and bitching at me. You had better call Jerry Klein, girls, and tell him the deal is off. Big brother has a beautiful new wife, and now he’s going to go and fuck her.”
Ashley almost burst out laughing at the collective gasp that arose from the women on the other end of the phone.
“Good night, girls,” Ryan said. Then he hung up.
“Oh, Lord, and you say I’ve got a wicked sense of humor,” Ashley said, laughing. “Those poor women are going to have a terrible weekend now.”
He picked up the phone again and dialed. “Ma, I wanted you to know—Frankie too—that I’ve called the girls and told them. You’ll probably have several messages on your machine when you get home tonight. Frankie too.” He listened, and then laughed. “Thanks,” he said, and then he hung up.
“What did she say?” Ashley asked him.
“She said I was to love you very gently on our first night together,” he answered low, and his eyes were filled with his open longing.
Ashley felt her cheeks growing pink, and, laughing, he pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her soft dark hair. Her heart was hammering nervously. The tip of her tongue touched her lips briefly, and she put her palms flat against his chest, realizing as she did so that the house was suddenly very quiet, and that they were very much alone. And then his mouth took hers in a fierce kiss that rendered her weak-kneed.
H
e looked down at her. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
Ashley nodded slowly. “I think it’s suddenly dawning on me that we’re
really
married. It’s not just a good idea anymore. It’s been in my mind that this marriage is how you and I can save what we have worked for, and I did all the things I needed to do to make the day a perfect one for us and all our guests, but I never really considered the marriage part as anything else except a means to an end. Until now.”
“Kind of scary, huh?” he said. “Listen, the sex thing…it is optional. You’re tired, and the truth is that I’m still jet-lagged.” His warm brown eyes looked into her green ones. “If you’re not in the mood…”
“The truth is that I am kinda in the mood,” Ashley admitted. “You were looking for a petite blonde, and I don’t know what I was looking for, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you. Yet here you are, and you are so damned sexy. Every time you kiss me I go weak in the knees. No one ever made me go weak in the knees. Not even hot to trot Chandler Wayne. I know women aren’t supposed to say stuff like this, but, Ryan Finbar Mulcahy, I really want to jump your bones. But if you’re not in the mood…”
Ryan grinned down at her. “Ashley, you are something else,” he told her. “You say just what you’re thinking, don’t you? Well, so do I. I want to sink myself so deep in you. I want to make you come and come and come until you can’t come anymore. I am more than definitely in the mood.”
“I guess we had better go upstairs then,” Ashley told him demurely, and she held out her hand to him. He took it, and they mounted the stairs together, then walked down the broad upstairs hallway to the bedroom suite they would share. “Nina made me take one of my sexy nightgowns home yesterday,” Ashley said. “I’ll go and change.”
“No time,” he told her, spinning her around to undo the two pearl buttons on her dress. He quickly peeled it off of her as Ashley stepped out of the puddle of fabric and kicked off her sandals. He unfastened the lace bra, and his hands slipped about her to cup her two full breasts. “Hello, girls,” he murmured in her ear. “God, they are so beautiful. I don’t ever think I’ve seen such a pair of gorgeous tits. They’re real too, aren’t they?”
“Uh-huh,” Ashley managed to get out. His hands. Oh, his big hands cupping her breasts! She could hardly draw a breath, and when his two thumbs reached up to seductively rub her nipples she felt herself getting wet. She leaned back against him and sighed deeply. This was going to be good. Her gut told her it would be good.
He bent down to kiss the side of her neck, and his hands released her breasts so he might slip her little lace bikini bottom off. The Velcro closures at her hip bone gave way, and he tossed the scrap of fabric aside. One arm was now about her waist. His other hand moved down to her mons, and a finger slid along her slit. “You’re wet,” he said, sounding pleased. The big hand ruffled her pubic hair.
She managed to turn herself about in his embrace. “Take off your jacket,” she said as she undid the narrow black belt at his waist and unzipped his gray trousers. Her hand slid in, moving though the opening in his silk boxers with unerring fingers, and closed about his penis. He was still half-soft, and he was huge, Ashley realized. She had created men with large penises in her Channel fantasies, but Ryan was to her unseen touch even bigger. She gave him a little squeeze, and he began to harden.
“I’m bigger than most guys,” he told her.
“So I note,” she said. “I want you naked, Ryan. I want to see for myself just how big.” She released her grip on him to fondle his balls. His sac was large too. Well, she thought, her new husband was big all over, wasn’t he? Why was she surprised that a man standing six feet, five inches tall had a supersized dick? Ashley took her hands from his genitals and began to unbutton his shirt. She almost moaned with delight at the broad, smooth, tanned chest. She slid her hands over it, kissing the warm flesh.
He had managed to get out of the rest of his clothing now, and stood back from her. “Well,” he said, “do I pass muster, Ash?”
“Do I?” she asked him, staring at his penis. “How big is that?” she queried him.
“I measured once,” he said. “Eleven inches. Just. Two in diameter.”
“You
measured
?” She didn’t know whether to laugh. She could not take her eyes from the thick column of flesh now bobbing before her. She wanted it in her so badly she was near to weeping. What was the matter with her?
“In college. Guys will do that, you know,” he said, looking a little embarrassed.
“It’s amazing,” she told him.
“Look, I don’t want to hurt you, so if I go too deep, tell me, okay?” he said.
“Uh-huh,” she agreed.
Do it! Do it!
she was silently screaming. Then he was kissing her again, and his hand was squeezing her butt. They were still in the parlor of their suite, and he was backing over to the couch. Ashley kissed him hungrily as she felt him bend her back over the high rolled arm of the couch. Her back fit perfectly against it. Did Frankie know that when she had picked this couch?
“Put your legs up,” he murmured, and she wrapped herself about him, almost whimpering as she felt the head of his penis beginning to penetrate her vagina.
“Oh, God!” she half sobbed. He was so big, so thick, so hot, and he was buried all the way inside of her. “Fuck me!” she begged him, but instead he leaned forward to fasten his mouth about one of her nipples, and he sucked hard on it. Ashley cried out softly as his lips and tongue teased her until she really thought she was going to die.
He bit down firmly but gently on the tender flesh. She cried out again. “Tell me what you want,” he growled in her ear. “Explain it to me carefully, slowly, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll give it to you. Tell me what you want, Ashley.”
“I want you to fuck me!” she gasped.
“Not good enough,” he replied.
“I want that hot cock of yours inside of me, fucking me hard. I want you to make me come and come and come and come. Can’t you feel how perfectly you fit me? My cunt was made for your big cock, Ryan! Do it! Do it, damn it!” Ashley cried.
He laughed low, and then he began, slowly, slowly at first, his penis moving with majestic strokes that pressed deeper and deeper. And then gradually he began to move on her faster and faster, until Ashley was sobbing and her climax began to roll over her with such force and intensity that she practically fainted. He had her bent back so far over the couch arm that the blood flowing to her head made her dizzy, but oh, God, it was wonderful! And then he stopped, giving her time to regain her breath. And her eyes widened with the knowledge that he was still very hard inside of her.
Gathering her up, their bodies still joined, he carried her into their bedroom and laid her on the edge of their big bed. He began to piston her once again, slowly, slowly, and then faster and faster. He laughed when her nails dug into his shoulders and shortly afterward raked down his long back. “Such a naughty kitty,” he whispered in her ear. And then to her surprise he pulled out of her. “Roll over,” he said. “I want to go deeper.”
“I don’t think I can move,” Ashley said.
He laughed again, this time low and seductive. Then he helped her into the position he wanted her to take. Kneeling behind her, he grasped her hips in his hands and thrust smoothly back into the wet heat of her luscious body. “You are so tight,” he groaned, delving farther into her channel.
Had she ever had a cock pushed so far into her body? The deep, hard thrusts were incredible. He hit her G-spot, and when she half cried, “Oh, yes, there!” he worked it until she was whimpering helplessly with the pure pleasure that he was giving her. She felt him begin to spasm, and as he ejaculated into her she climaxed so ferociously that Ashley thought she was going to die right then and there. “Oh, God, that was wonderful!” she managed to gasp as they fell apart. She rolled over onto her back, struggling for breath. “Tell me you can eventually do it again.”
Ryan laughed weakly. “Eventually,” he promised. “You were incredible, Ash. I mean really, really good. I don’t think I’ve ever had better.”
“Well,” she told him, “that’s nice, because I’m all you’re likely to get for the next two years.” Was he aware of what he had just said? she wondered. He was speaking to her as if she were just another one-night stand, and not his lawful wife. And then she realized that he had hurt her feelings. It surprised her to realize that he could do that, but then, it had just been sex for him, hadn’t it? And if she were truthful with herself it had just been sex for her, but women didn’t do things that way. For women sex was an emotional commitment. For men sex was just sex.
“What’s the matter?” he asked her, realizing she was tense.
“I’ve never had sex just for the sake of it,” Ashley told him. “I’m not sure that I like it.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true, was it? She had sex on the Channel just for the fun of it, didn’t she? But that was different. “I mean, it was wonderful, but it meant nothing. Each time I’ve had sex before it was because I thought I was in love. We just had an absolutely fabulous wham-bam moment.” She struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. “So why do I want to cry?” The tears began to fall, and she was mortified when a soft sob escaped her.
Ryan pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. He didn’t say anything at first, because she was right. He wasn’t even sure what to say. This had all happened so damned fast, and all because Finbar Mulcahy was reaching from beyond the grave to try to run his life, just as Ashley’s grandfather was doing to her. He hoped the two old boys were happy now. “Does it help that I really like you?” he finally said.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Ashley sniffed. She was snuggling into his arms, her breasts against his chest, and bare flesh on bare flesh felt so darned good. “I really like you too,” she told him.
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe it would be better if we tried to get some sleep now. I’m still jet-lagged, and you’re obviously exhausted, Ash. Can I hold you for a while longer?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured. She could hear his heart beneath her ear. It beat strongly, with a reassuring
thump-thump
. “I guess I could use some sleep,” she admitted. “I’m going to need all my strength if that’s how well you perform when you’re jet-lagged. You’re likely to kill me when you’re at full strength.”
He laughed aloud. “Look who’s talking,” he countered. “You are an incredible partner, Ashley. I might find myself more than liking you if we continue to get on like this.” He stroked her hair. “Now go to sleep, Ashley, baby.”
Suddenly she was feeling better. And he had called her
baby
. She curled onto her side, and he pulled her against him, one hand enclosing one of her breasts. Ashley smiled.
When she awoke the following morning she heard him in his shower and contemplated joining him, but decided against it. It would certainly lead to another sexual encounter, and she wasn’t certain she wanted one yet. She fell back to sleep.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he called to her. “I’ve got coffee.”
Ashley opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back. “The Byrneses have Sunday off,” she said. “Where did you get coffee?”
“I made it,” he told her, grinning and looking very pleased with himself. “And there was a covered plate of muffins out on a tray with butter and two cups.”
“Mrs. B. must have put it out last night before she went to bed. How did you know where to find the coffee?” Ashley wanted to know.
“The coffeemaker was set up, and all I had to do was push the button,” he said.
Ashley laughed. “Mrs. B. must like you, Ryan. She never sets out Sunday breakfast for me. I always have to go down and make my own.”
She sat up, and then it dawned on her that she was naked beneath the covers. “Oh, Lord,” she muttered. He grinned, and she blushed again. “Stop that!” she told him, but his grin just expanded. “Close your eyes,” she said.
“Why?”
“Just close them, Ryan.” And when he had she jumped from the bed and ran into her dressing room to slip on the nightgown she had brought home from Lacy Nothings on Friday night. Then, mustering her dignity, she came out of the dressing room.
His eyes widened as she strolled across the floor to the bed and climbed back in. “
Mamma mia
!” he said expressively. What had ever made him think petite blondes were his ideal? Ashley’s tall curves set off in the clingy lavender silk were gorgeous! Perfect! Utterly and totally seductive. He felt a tightening in his groin just watching her walk.
“I take it you like the nightgown,” she said dryly as she reached for one of the small muffins on the bed tray and began to butter it.
He nodded and splashed some half-and-half in his coffee. “I woke up about six,” he began, “and I’ve been doing some hard thinking, Ash.” He took a sip of his coffee. “When you cried last night because you weren’t comfortable with sex just for the sake of sex, I suddenly realized that maybe we should try to make something more of this marriage than just the fact that we’ve saved ourselves the difficulty and irritation of having to start all over again. I know we did this for one reason, but maybe we should try to really make a go of it, and not just consider that in two years we can walk away with everything that belongs to each of us, and nobody gets hurt. Because I think after two years together, with the kind of sexual chemistry that we seem to have, we would both get hurt.” He sighed. “Am I making any sense, baby?”