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He pulls me close and possesses my mouth while forcing us to turn in a half circle. We trade places so the backs of my legs are pressed against the bed. He’s choosing to be on top. Fine by me.
I sit on the edge of the bed. I hold him hostage between my parted thighs as I unfasten his trousers. I lower the zipper and push his pants and boxer briefs away so he’s freed.
I drag my nails over his hipbones, down his upper thighs. I kiss his chest before scooting backward. I spread my legs wide so he can sit between them to remove his prosthesis.
I shift closer and wrap my hands around his waist from behind as he removes his shoes, pants, and lower extremity. I run my palms over his abs while kissing the upper muscles of his back. My hand drifts lower and I can’t resist grasping his hard cock.
“Whoa. Someone is anxious.”
“Hmm … judging by how hard you are, I’d say it’s you.”
“Judging by the grasp you have on me, I’d say it’s you.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
He turns and crawls over me. He owns my mouth again but this time, it’s much softer and slower. “Be prepared. I’m going to take you all night long—over and over until we’re so physically drained, it’s impossible to do it again.”
“I dare you.”
He pushes my top up and kisses down my stomach. He slips his finger into the elastic waistband of my G-string and pulls it downward. “As much as I like this on you, I love what’s underneath more.”
I lift my hips and he drags my panties down my legs. He gets to my feet and pulls the G-string over my heels one at a time. “I love that you’ve left your wedding shoes on. It’s very sexy.”
My heels were the most bridal thing about my wedding attire today. I thought it was a nice touch to go all out on them since my dress was so simple. They’re covered in rhinestones and pearls—certainly the sexiest heels I’ve ever worn.
Sin pushes my top up and over my head, tossing it aside. His mouth goes straight for one of my breasts. He sucks my nipple, causing it to become hard. He circles it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth again.
His palm finds my other breast. He uses his thumb to rub the pink area around my nipple, mimicking what his tongue is doing to the other one. It, too, hardens.
His mouth moves up my chest to my neck and then hovers over my ear. The warmth of his breath sends chills down my body.
He positions himself at my entrance and I wrap my legs around his waist. He slowly pushes himself inside me and groans. “Ohh, you feel so good. Every time.”
He’s moving inside me slowly. Sweetly. Deliberately.
He pushes my arms over my head. His hands find mine and he laces our fingers together. He squeezes them tightly. “Into me … you see.”
Those words replace “I love you” and have somehow come to mean so much more. “Into me … you see.”
I squeeze my legs tighter as he pumps in and out. He releases one of my hands and moves it between my legs. I loosen my grip around his waist so he’s able to reach me better.
He presses his fingers above our union and uses the tips to stroke my clit. “Does that feel good?”
I adjust my hips so his erection strokes my G-spot on the inside and his fingers rub my clit in the perfect position. “Yesss.”
“Good. I want you to come with me.”
“Keep this up and I will. Soon.”
I know he’s close to orgasm because his grip on my hand is tightening. His breath is faster and heavier on my neck.
The tension inside my lower body builds. A series of rhythmic contractions begin, clutching Sin’s cock inside me. “Ohh, I feel you coming, Bonny. It feels like you’re grasping me inside you.”
My climax is the onset for his.
He moves his hand to the top of my head to hold me in place. He thrusts deeply inside me as I come hard around him. He goes lax after he has emptied himself inside me. Nothing in the world makes me feel closer to him.
This is the first of many times he’ll take me tonight. And yes, it feels different having him as my husband. The physical act itself is the same but our connection has changed. It’s much deeper.
The best ever. Now I know what that truly means.
Chapter Eight
Sinclair Breckenridge
Bleu and I had the gift of an uninterrupted wedding night. That all changed the following morning when she got the call about Harry’s decline. Ellison was right. Harold MacAllister’s end is nearing.
I’ve never been with a person during his or her last days—at least not someone dying from an illness. I’ve been with plenty of brothers who’ve passed from the aftermath of violence. But what’s happening with Harry is different. He’s dying a slow death. I can’t help but think it must be better to be taken out quickly.
Is he afraid? I was both times I almost died. I’m not ashamed to admit that. But the second time was more frightening because of Bonny. I was terrified of what might happen to my lass if I left her.
Harry has been my father-in-law for a week. Bleu and I have spent every day—and some nights—with him at the hospice center. I’ve made our time together count. I’ve come to know him well in those seven days—probably better than I know a lot of my own brothers within The Fellowship.
I like Harry a lot. And I suspect he likes me as well.
Harry entertains me with stories of his undercover days. Bleu rolls her eyes each time he tells a tale. I’m sure she’s heard them more times than she’d like.
“I feel like having some chocolate cake, girlie girl. Would you care to go down to the cafeteria and get a piece for me?”
Bleu’s eyes light up. She’s been so upset since Harry began refusing food. “Absolutely.”
Harry’s appetite has become nonexistent. His taste buds are completely shot—an unfortunate side effect of the cancer. He no longer eats enough to nourish a bird. “Want me to go down with you?”
“Stay, Sinclair. You can keep me company while Bleu is gone.”
I’m expecting Harry to begin his next great tale the minute Bleu is out the door. But he doesn’t. “I sent Bleu away because I need to speak to you privately.”
“Okay.” I’m curious about what’s on Harry’s mind since we’ve already had the talk about how I’m going to take care of his daughters after he’s gone.
“I don’t have much longer. I can feel it coming.”
I can pretend I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. I can encourage him but I have more respect than that for my father-in-law. “We know.”
“I hide the misery because I don’t want my girls to know the extent. But I’m in agony, Sinclair. The medication doesn’t touch the pain anymore and my doctor won’t increase it. He says a higher dosage will kill me. Ironic, right?”
He’s doing a good job hiding the truth. But I guess he should. That’s what he made a career of. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“I’m in congestive heart failure. It’s a complication of the cancer. My lungs are filling with fluid faster than they can pull it off. I’m slowly drowning on my own fluids. You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to be lying here slowly suffocating. And that’s what’s gonna get me. It won’t even be the fucking cancer.”
There has to be something that can be done.
“I can have the best doctors brought here immediately.”
“No. That’s not what I want—or what I’m going to ask of you. I don’t want to prolong this.”
“What do you need?”
He sighs. “I know you, Sinclair. I’ve watched you for years and I know the things you’ve done. And still do. You aren’t afraid to end a life.”
No. He can’t possibly be asking me what I think is coming next.
“I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate for your help. Please. Put me out of my misery. Help me die with dignity.”
What he’s asking for is a mercy kill—assisted suicide. Not something I do. “I eliminate those who deserve to die. They’re terrible people who do dreadful things.”
“We all deserve to die. It’s just a matter of when and how. I choose now and in a dignified manner. Not lying in this bed pissing in a bag and shitting in diapers someone else has to change for me because I’m too weak to wipe my own ass.”
“I’ve never killed an innocent person.”
“Then don’t think of it as ending my life. Consider it the finale of my misery.”
Bonny will never approve. “Bleu won’t want this for you.”
“Hence the reason I’m asking you and not her.”
“She’ll never forgive me if I do this.”
“Or me, and that’s why it would be a secret only we would share. I don’t want my girls to know I chose to go out that way.”
I can’t keep a secret like this from my wife. “I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t do it.”
“I realize this is huge. You need time to think about it so don’t give me an answer now.”
He has my final answer. “No. I’m telling you now I can’t do it. There won’t be any thinking about it.”
Bleu comes into the room carrying a container of chocolate cake in each hand. “One for now and one for later, just in case.”
“Oh, girlie girl,” he sighs. “I’m afraid my craving has passed. I’m sorry I sent you for it.”
Sadness spreads over Bleu’s face. “It’s okay, Dad. We’ll be prepared when your craving comes back.”
I can’t look at Harry right now. “I’m going to step out and make some calls home.”
