Yours: A Forever After Novella (9 page)

 

I can’t help but place a kiss on the hinge of his square jaw and squeeze his thick thigh in solidarity. He hates reliving our days in high school when we had to be even more vigilant about our relationship. Back then, even subtle touches like a brush of our shoulders as we passed each other in the halls was misconstrued as us fucking like rabbits. Being careful and learning to hide became a way of life for us because of it.

 

“How long?” Dad prompts, looking me and then to Lyric.

 

“I was seventeen, nearly eighteen,” my husband returns.

 

“Are you saying that you’ve been dating my girl since she was fifteen?”

 

Unperturbed by my dad’s anger, Lyric states,

“Yeah, I am. The day Harleigh turned fifteen, I asked her to be my girlfriend. But honestly, she’d already been my girl for years, just not officially.”

 

“Fucking hell,” dad hisses. Leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees, dad looks down at his boots. “Fifteen? She was just a kid. You were a grown ass man, dating a kid. What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

Lyric goes to speak, but I cut him off by disentangling his arms from around my waist and standing up.

“Don’t,” I say tersely. “Don’t go there and prove me right.”

 

“What?”

 

“This,” I snap, pointing at him, “is why I made Lyric keep us a secret. What you’re doing right now, what you and everyone else would have said, how you would have judged him and me, is why I didn’t want to tell any of you. Dad, you trusted Lyric with me from the time I could crawl. You, just like everyone else knew one day we would be together, you said as much to me. But somehow, I knew when we told you we were dating you wouldn’t condone it. Whatever reasons you came up with, whether it was me being too young, Lyric being too old, him just starting to prospect with the MC, or me going off to college soon, I knew you would come up with reasons as to why we shouldn’t be together.”

 

“Harleigh…I just…”

 

“No, dad. Just no. I love Lyric. I have loved him my entire life, and I won’t have you questioning him or his morals. Lyric didn’t touch me, not like that, not until I was ready. He was the perfect boyfriend and has been an even better husband when we’ve actually lived in the same state, that is.”

 

Turning to Lyric, the smile lighting up his handsome face encourages me to go on.

“My decision to marry him doesn’t reflect on how your or mom raised me. If anything, it proves you did your job well since I had such amazing role models. You and mom taught me what to look for in a relationship. I’m just lucky enough to have found it early and in my best friend. All I wanted was the opportunity to build a life with him. To be together without the expectations of weddings, babies, and buying a house, all of which we weren’t ready for back then. We loved one another enough to want to make the commitment to love, honor, and cherish the other every day for the rest of our lives, but that didn’t mean we wanted to conform to everyone else’s ideas of what our marriage should entail.”

 

Warm hands on my shoulders spin me around so that I’m staring into a pair of blue eyes that are filled with pride, lust, and so much love I could drown in it.

“Not loved, Angel, love. I love you more today than I did the day I repeated my vows to you, and I’ll love you harder and longer than anyone else ever could. Don’t forget that, baby. Never question it either. You are mine, and I’m yours. Forever after, Harleigh.”

 

Can you say swoon? Because that’s what I did right then and there. I fell even more in love with Lyric. And God help me for saying this, but every second I spend with him, I’m grateful that the stubborn bastard never gave up on us. I’ll probably live to regret that statement later, in fact, I know I will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

~ Lyric ~

 

“Angel, cut it out,” I growl as Harleigh adjusts her hips so that her dripping wet pussy is grinding against my rock hard cock.

 

Finally touching her again has me feeling like a kid in a candy store. All that exposed white flesh, smooth and silky like chocolate. Hard candy-colored nipples, pleading to be taken in my mouth. Well, we’ll just call them all-day suckers. And then there’s Harleigh’s creamy center, that has me salivating at the opportunity to have another taste.

 

“What’s wrong, Lyric?” My soon-to-be punished wife smirks down at me. “Turnabout is fair play, and it’s about time I got to play.”

 

This is the first chance since we reconnected that we’ve got time. Time to explore. Time to rediscover each other’s bodies. Time for just us. I’m not saying that watching Harleigh get off on top of my cock wasn’t hot; it was, but I’d prefer to be a participant this go around.

 

Harleigh asked me earlier if she could tie me up while she fucked me. She blushed furiously the whole time she spoke, and by the end of her little speech, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. Nor did my cock. At that point, he was too excited at the prospect of getting inside her tight, wet cunt again, I don’t think he would have objected to anything.

 

Using a pair of thigh high’s she packed in her overnight bag, Harleigh carefully and methodically bound both of my wrists to the ornate iron headboard. She took great pains to make sure the knots weren’t too tight, that I was comfortable, making me feel like a world class asshole for not fessing up and telling her I could undo her efforts in less than a minute.

 

But this is something my wife wants, so although I’m not known for being patient, I’ll do my best to give it to her. However, if she doesn’t stop bouncing up and down on my poor neglected dick, soaking me with her arousal, and tugging on her nipples, I won’t last long. I’ll be coming all over myself like a horny teenager.

 

“You want to play, then play, Angel. But stop fucking around and touch me,” I demand, thrusting my hips up into her heated flesh.

 

Harleigh winks at me, running her hands down her body until they reach my chest and then lower. She traces the ridges and dips of my abs, coming to an abrupt stop when her fingers come into contact with my gift for her.

 

Her eyes go wide, and her mouth hangs open as she takes in the piercing I had my dad do for me last week. To say my old man was comfortable with inserting metal just above my junk is laughable. But I convinced him it was for the greater good of my woman’s pleasure, and that she’d thank him by making him her famous Key Lime pie, which led to him begrudgingly changing his tune.

 

“Oh my God, Lyric. What the hell is that?”

 

Fuck she’s cute.

“Technically it’s called a pubic piercing, but I call it multiple orgasms,” I grin lasciviously. “How about you jump on and try it out?”

 

Instead of climbing on my cock and rocking both our worlds, Harleigh strokes the slightly stretched skin above my new hardware and asks,

“Does it hurt? Can we still…I mean, is it okay if we…”

 

“Come here, Angel,” I instruct, beckoning her closer by tilting my head.

 

When Harleigh’s body is flush against me and her forehead is resting on mine, I tell her,

“It’s all good, baby. My dad says you owe him big time for this one, and he won’t accept anything less than three pies. So aside from letting you out of bed to make good on his payback, I’m open for business as usual. Now, are you going to suck it or ride it because my cock is going to fucking explode if it doesn’t get inside you soon.”

 

Quirking her eyebrow at me, my delicious wife sits up, placing her luscious ass directly over my throbbing, hungry for her pussy cock.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been practicing your dirty talk while we’ve been apart.”

 

What. In. The. Actual. Fuck?

 

Her statement comes out of left field and causes me to jerk against my restraints. Is Harleigh honestly implying that I fucked other women? Does she honestly believe I’m capable of that shit? Because if she does, she’s in for a long weekend of punishment my orgasm deprivation.

 

Not once since the day I realized I was in love with Harleigh have I looked at another woman, much less touched one. That’s not to say, women didn’t throw themselves at me; they did. Club whores, the strippers who work the poles at Vengeance Reigns, and plenty of women I’ve met in bars have offered to drop to their knees and suck my dick or spend a night in my bed, but I’ve never taken any of them up on it.

The moment Harleigh looked into my eyes and agreed to be my girlfriend, to protect her no matter what, and trusted me enough to take me inside her, warm, tight, pussy, she gave herself to me, and I, her. Completely. Entirely. Irrevocably. She would only ever feel me moving inside her body. It would be my lips on her skin, and my teeth marking her flesh. I will be the only man to see her come, and the luckiest bastard alive to be the one to give that to her.

 

As much as I want to be angry at her for her offhanded comment, I get it. I really do. Harleigh has always had it in the back of her mind that because we were each other’s firsts, that eventually, I’d get bored. That I’d want to sample other women’s wears. Regardless of the hundreds of times, I’ve reassured her until I’m blue in the face that will never happen, that she’s the only woman I’ll ever want, it hasn’t sunk in.

 

Shaking off the latent frustration, I groan,

“Is that your roundabout way of asking me if I cheated on you? That’s why you tied me up, isn’t it? You wanted to make sure I couldn’t spank your ass for asking ridiculous fucking questions that you already know the answer to.”

 

I narrow my eyes at Harleigh when she finds the courage to finally look at me, and pray to all that’s fucking holy this will be the last time I’ll ever have to say this.

“You. It’s only ever been you, Angel. I don’t know why you’ve got the fucked up notion in your head that I’ll cheat on you because I’d sooner tear out my own heart than hurt you like that. You’re forgetting the fact that I don’t even see other women, that they don’t exist for me because all I see is you.”

 

“How can you say that? Neither of us has anything to compare what we have to. How do you even know that I’m any good? There are probably a million women who could please you better.”

 

I hate that Harleigh can’t see what I do when she looks in the mirror. But what I hate even more is that she questions herself and her innate sexuality. My wife is fucking amazing. Her body is perfect, made to be cherished, caressed, and worshiped by a man’s hands. She’s sweet, funny, intelligent, and genuinely cares about people. Harleigh can talk football, chooses beer over girly frou-frou cocktails, and sucks cock like a pro. She’s the whole package, and she doesn’t even know it.

 

“Fucking listen to me,” I snarl, tugging my hands free. I need to hold her. To be able to touch her in order to convince her what I’m saying is nothing but the truth.

 

“There is not one woman on Earth, alive or dead, that would make me look twice at her when I have you. Even when you were here, and I was at home miserable without you, it never crossed my mind to touch anyone else or be touched by them. Ask dad. He’ll happily tell you what a sad sack of shit I was without you. I didn’t leave the house most days, Angel. I could barely bring myself to go to work, thinking that you might come home and I wouldn’t be there,” I admit.

 

Plunging her hands into my hair, Harleigh kisses me deeply. Her tongue tangles with mine as our breathing turns ragged and our heartbeats escalate. Hands stroke overheated skin, and fingernails score into flesh. I can feel her pussy juices leak from her slit, coating my cock and dripping down my balls as I hold her and force her hips to still their erratic movements.

 

Harleigh’s frustrated whimper echoes through the upscale, boutique hotel room I hired for the weekend while she fruitlessly tries to grind herself against my cock.

 

“Can you feel that? How much my body wants you. How fucking addicted I am to you,” I ask, landing a harsh slap on her ass.

 

With two fingers, I test her readiness. Gathering some of her cream, I slide my forefinger through the lips of her pussy backward until the tip is rimming her asshole. Harleigh instinctively clenches, but I coax,

“Relax and let me in, Angel. You know I’d never hurt you. All I want to do is make you feel good.”

 

Forcing the tension from her body, she tilts her pelvis giving me better access to the tightly puckered rosette I plan on claiming.

“Lyric,” she moans as I breach her hole.

 

“That’s it, baby. Just breathe out and push back into it.”

 

When I’m one knuckle deep, I snake my other hand between us and grip the base of my cock so that it’s standing upright. Fisting my length once, twice, and then a third time, milking drops of pre-come from the tip, I order Harleigh to climb on.

 

“Don’t lose my finger, though, Angel. I want to fuck your ass and your tight cunt at the same time. One day soon it’s going to be a plug in here,” I say rotating the finger in her ass. “After that, I’m going to buy you a vibrator big enough to train your ass to take my cock. And when you’re ready – when you’re begging me to fuck your ass – only then will I give it to you. Now, be a good girl and fuck my finger, Harleigh.”

 

Testing her limits, my wife slowly slides backward until my finger is buried to the webbing. She lets out a startled moan at the fullness of it, hissing,

“Jesus. Oh fuck, yes.”

 

Yeah, that’s what I thought. My wife has a naughty side. It’s no secret that Harleigh likes being told what to do during sex; I found that out early on in our relationship. Spanking, restraints, watching me jerk off all over her body makes my wife horny as fuck. She loves it when I talk dirty to her and make her come when there’s a chance we’ll get caught. But this, this is a surprise. A fucking good one, but a surprise nevertheless.

 

I won’t say I haven’t given fucking Harleigh’s ass a lot of thought because that would be a straight up, dirty fucking lie. My fantasies about owning that part of her too are in vivid Technicolor. Her face down on the bed on all fours, hands cuffed behind her back as I plow into her ass from behind while fucking her cunt with my fingers is my favorite. That position gives me access to her perfect tits too. I could pull her hair, forcing her hips to slam back into mine as I emptied my come inside her. I would control every action, and all Harleigh would have to do is spread for me and take it.

 

The thought alone has my cock weeping, pre-come steadily flowing form the tip. Slapping the ruddy head against Harleigh’s distended clit, I order,

“Wrap your hand around my cock and put it inside you. I want you watching as your cunt swallows every inch.”

 

Shuddering, she does what she’s told. Lining her cunt up with the head of my cock, I watch with hooded eyes as her bare pussy lips spread, glistening with her cream and she takes me inside her body.

 

This right here is where I belong. Buried deep inside my wife. It isn’t merely the feeling of her pussy walls hugging my cock tightly or the way her body arches closer to mine. It isn’t the way her thighs grip at my hips as she undulates on top of me, bringing us both unbelievable pleasure. It’s all of it.

 

It’s the way Harleigh’s eyes deepen in color when I bottom out, hitting her cervix, and flare with lust when I drag the length of my cock over her G-spot. It’s how I know when she’s going to come because her breathing turns into staccato pants and her clit throbs against the base of my dick. It’s what she says when the only word that leaves her lips is my name, telling me how much she loves me, how much I mean to her, and that she can’t live without me.

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