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ChapterFive
Salem
Marry him?
“Yes!” I squeal, throwing myself into his arms.
I can’t believe that this is happening. It feels like all of my dreams are coming true. Campbell is all I’ve ever wanted and I can’t wait to be his wife. Then I realize why he’s probably doing this. Campbell has always been sweet and generous and he’s more protective of me than most. I start to pull nervously at my hair, quickly braiding it to the side. Campbells fingers lift my chin so that my eyes meet his.
“Are you just asking me to marry you so my father can’t get me?” I ask.
“No, of course not. I love you, Salem. I have since the day that we met. I would do anything for you, would do anything to keep you safe from your father, but I also want to marry you. I desperately want you to be my wife.”
“Ok,” I say. “Then yes, I’ll marry you.”
He smiles down at me and I feel my own lips curve up at the sight.
“We’ll head to the courthouse this morning then, princess. Why don’t you go ahead and get ready while I check out Delilah?”
I nod and he leans down, dropping a sweet kiss on my lips. I smile as he turns and walks out of the bedroom. I grab my duffle bag and head into the bathroom.I wonder if I have anything white.I start tugging out clothes until I finally find a white dress and my only pair of dress shoes. I only had two pairs of shoes and I lost one in the mud puddle on my run here. The dress shoes aren’t broken in and I know they’ll kill my feet but I don’t have any other options. The dress I pick out is another shift, white this time, with a sheen to it.
I decide to take a quick shower before I get dressed. I use Campbell’s soap again and smile as I wrap a fluffy towel around my body. Dragging his comb through my hair, I get rid of any tangles before I braid it to the side. I use Campbell's toothbrush and toothpaste and then step back to check my appearance. I don’t have any makeup so this will have to do.
I grab my dress and tug it on over my head, making sure the spaghetti straps are firmly in place. I’m just sliding on clean panties when Campbell comes back into the room. He stops and stares at me with his mouth hanging open.
“Do you like it?” I ask, spinning around so that he can see all of it. The skirt of the dress flies up around my waist.
Campbell is next to me in an instant. His hands wrap around my waist, tugging the short dress back into place. He frowns at the hem and I wonder if there’s a stain or tear.
“You don’t like it?” I ask.
“I love it, princess, but let’s not spin around in public. Can’t have you showing others what’s mine.”
“What’s yours?”
“This,” he says, cupping my pussy.
He smooths his fingers back and forth over the fabric of my panties and I widen my legs with a moan. My head falls back as his finger sneaks under my panties and then his bare skin is there on mine. He teases around my hole and my hips start to rock in time with his movements.
“You’re so wet, Salem.”
I moan, trying to focus on him as his fingers continue to tease my wet flesh. I lift my hands, gripping his shoulders to try and steady myself. My body begins to tense as the tingles in my core increase in strength.
“That’s it, princess. Come for me.”
I don’t know if it’s his words or his fingers but my body does as he commands, my cream flooding out to cover his fingers. Campbell continues to stroke me as my body turns to jelly in his arms. He holds me up with the hand at my back and slips the other one out from under my dress. I watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.
I pant as he stares down at me, giving me a smile before leaning down to kiss me. I can taste my release on his lips and I moan at the flavor. His beard scrapes against my face, reminding me of when he went down on me last night. I kiss him harder and his arms wrap around me tighter in response.
He pulls back after a minute. “Come on, princess. I made us some food. Let’s eat or it will be cold.”
He twines his fingers with mine and tugs me after him down the hallway and into a cozy kitchen. His whole house is cozy and seems well-loved. Everything is clean and taken care of and I’m struck by how different it is from my father’s house.
He pulls out a chair for me at the kitchen table where he’s already got two place settings ready with some eggs and toast on each. I settle into my chair and start to dig in. He’s a good cook and I finish the food quickly.
“Did you want more?” he asks once I’ve cleaned my plate.
“No, that was perfect. Thank you.”
