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Look what his mind games had done to his other child.
Buck was in prison now and would be for a long time. The Winston’s lawyers would see to that. They hadn’t taken kindly to being kidnapped and extorted. Plus the attempted murder charge for Jeremiah. No, he wouldn’t see the light of day for a long, long time. Good fucking riddance. He might be my half-brother but he’d effectively squashed any sisterly sentiment I might have ever felt. In the end all he’d ever proved was that yes, he was his father’s son.
And now Jeremiah and I were free.
I kissed him back just as vigorously as his leg slid between mine. He angled himself in such a way that I could feel his hard cock through his slacks, right at my center. I groaned, already so turned on from seeing his love-filled eyes during the cheesy ceremony down-stairs. It hadn’t mattered that I was holding plastic flowers or that the chapel smelled like hairspray and cheap perfume.
It was perfect. I was finally uniting with the man of my dreams. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Ours would never be a conventional life. We fell in love during someone else’s wedding celebrations, cemented our affair while stranded in a storm, to this day had sex more often out of bed than in it—being married by an Elvis impersonator felt just about right.
“I want you wet,” Jeremiah growled to me as he reached up underneath my simple skirt, shoved my panties aside, and palmed my pussy.
I shuddered against his hand, my forehead falling against his chest as I began to shudder. I was so ready for him. So beyond ready for him—
“I’m wet,” I whispered, unnecessarily, since he could feel just how wet I was.
But he shook his head, still strumming a spot that had me almost sputtering, it was so goddamn good.
With his other hand he began tugging at my shirt. I got the idea and helped him pull it off over my head.
I wasn’t wearing a bra. I figured when in Vegas…
His dark eyes flashed when he saw my tits spring out. My pussy throbbed at the look on his face and I whined in need.
He grinned then, a wolf’s grin. Dear God, how was I ever going to survive the night?
Because apparently my new husband had plans for me. Plans that began with getting me in the shower. Since that’s where he led me next, one hand buried in my pussy the whole way.
The second he flipped on the light in the bathroom, I gasped. He’d obviously splurged on the room because the shower was huge. It had several rain showerheads, along with a built-in bench. All in a rich marble.
He let go of me briefly to set the water to steaming and I whined with the loss of contact. He already had me in a sort of trance and we’d barely begun. But as soon as he’d gotten the water going, he began stripping down.
My mouth dropped open as I watched him reveal inch after inch of hard muscle. Working the ranch morning to night day after day had sculpted him into a god.
I reached out, longing to run my fingers down his six-pack abs. He was naked all except for his black boxers that were stretched obscenely in the front from his hard cock.
He caught my wrists before I could reach out and make contact, though. “Ah ah ah,” he warned. “Only good girls get rewarded. Are you going to be a good girl tonight, Mrs. Walker?”
I looked up into his eyes and nodded fervently, biting my lip in the way I knew drove him crazy. “I’ll be such a good girl,” I whispered, batting my eyes at him.
He groaned in the low way I knew meant I was driving him to the brink and my sex pulsed again. He yanked me close, shoving down my skirt and panties and all but hauling me into the shower with him.
The hot water was a shocking sensation that, with my body already primed, had me spasming and clutching onto Jeremiah.
But he was so keyed into my every emotion and reaction, he was ready for me, and again grasped my wrists before I could close around him.
He held my right wrist in a firm, commanding grip that had me shuddering in front of him as the steamy water soaked me from behind. He lifted my arm up and placed my palm on the wall, pressing it lightly there in a way I knew meant I was to leave it there. When he released my wrist, I kept my arm raised and palm to the wall.
He did the same with the other wrist, so that I was grasping the top of the frame for the opaque glass shower door, spreading me so that I might as well be tied to an invisible St. Andrews Cross. As if he had the same image in mind, he nudged my feet open wider so that I was completely exposed to him. Completely vulnerable to whatever he might want to do to me.
All the while the water steamed the air around us and dripped down my body, lighting up every nerve ending in ways I’d never realized they could be awakened.
“Close your eyes and feel me,” he whispered.
I obeyed. I’d learned when he wanted to be in control, it was best to give in and go for the ride. I trusted him to never let me drop. I trusted him, something I never thought I’d be able to say of any man. But he had earned it, over and over again.
So I closed my eyes and when his fingertip began tracing the hot, wet skin at my wrist, slowly working his way to my inner elbow, and then down further to my bicep, to my underarm, sloping around to my breasts—
“Oh!” I gasped when he came to my nipple. He didn’t grasp it or suck it… No, he just began to lightly flick it and tease it with his big, calloused fingers. Back and forth and then forth and back again. Just that one point of contract on my body.
