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FORTY-EIGHT
Alethia woke aching, both inside and out. Then she shifted and realised why. She'd fallen asleep on top of Stan, her head resting on his chest, and there was no doubting what they'd done last night, or imagining it had been a dream, because his enormous dick was still buried deep inside her, at such a perfect angle that even the slightest movement sent sparks of electricity straight into her core.
Strong hands fastened around her hips, lifting her so that she sat astride him, before his wings folded around her to hold her upright when her body threatened to lie right down again, she felt so boneless. Had they really made love for hours last night, for so long that she'd actually fallen asleep with him still inside her?
"You said when you'd rested, you wanted to ride me again, as soon as you woke. You were so determined, you would not allow me to pull out, and you made me promise..." Stan gently rocked her hips, grinding her sensitive skin against him, and a moan escaped from her lips. He rocked her again, but this time he thrust up to meet her, sending even more sparks into her core.
Though she rode him, she knew that Stan was completely in control of their lovemaking, and she didn't care. After last night, no one knew her body as well as he did, and the things he could do with it...she was pretty sure she was riding a unicorn right now, one of those rare men who gave truly amazing dick.
She found herself moving with him, so perfectly attuned to his body that it came as no surprise to hear him roar her name as she screamed his. Then she lay down on his chest again, tracing the muscles. "You're mine," she said.
Stan cupped her breast in his hand. "And you're mine."
She struggled to remember what he'd said last night, before asking her to say the words. There was something... "Why is it so important to you?"
"In ancient times, right up until I was a boy, in Scotland, it was enough to say the vows and consummate the bond for a couple to be recognised as wed, by ancient custom. I know it is different now, with priests and banns and whatever modern things must be done for a couple to marry. But I have spent weeks believing I am a demon, damned to hell for eternity, and the one thing I would not do was damn you with me, no matter how much I wanted you. Last night...I began to believe that I might not be damned, that I might not be bound for hell, but I am still not certain, and I would not risk your soul on the advice of three men I barely know. So...we both said the words, and consummated our union, so under the most ancient Scottish traditions..."
Alethia burst out laughing. "Are you trying to tell me I'm your wife? That sometime last night, in the lust fuelled haze when I demanded your dick, you married me?"
"It is not legally binding, or so I believe, and even in ancient times, you would be free to divorce me, so it is not a true marriage in that sense, but..." Stan swallowed. "It is what I would have done with Carline, if I'd had the chance. I now know that would have been a mistake, but last night was no mistake. I meant to claim you, and you claimed me, and then we..." Oh, he looked so cute when he blushed.
"We had amazing sex for half the night, and again this morning. I probably should be angry with you – I mean, tricking someone into marriage during the throes of passion is probably about as underhanded as a drunken wedding in Vegas – but as you say, it's not legally binding. More like...a betrothal, or a promise. Or saying I love you."
Stan snorted. "What we did last night was much more than simply stating my feelings for you. I love you, I wish to share your bed forever, your smile lights up my world brighter than the sun...these are all things I could say over and over and while they would be true, they are not as important as declaring we share a bond, and consummating it by joining our bodies."
She had to think about that. "So...you aren't upset that I haven't said I love you?" Yet. If he truly had forgotten Carline to sort-of marry her, she was pretty sure she was in danger of falling totally head over heels in love with him. If she hadn't already, sometime during the night.
Stan shrugged. "You will say the words if you want to, or you will not. But your eyes and your body have told me many times how much you care for me. Even now, you refuse to let me go, your tight pussy holding fast to my cock tells me how much you love me."
Fuck, he was still inside her. And she didn't want to move, because he felt so good there.
"I should take a shower," she said. So she could think. So much had happened...
"I should come with you," he said, rising with her. "If only to make sure you do not try to secretly pleasure yourself in there without me. I would definitely deserve to be divorced if my bride did not trust me enough to see to her needs."
Alethia blushed. "You knew about that?"
Stan grinned. "You made noises that sounded like you were distressed. I had no choice but to check on you, just in case. And so what if I wished it were my hands between your thighs and not your own? A man is allowed to wish, is he not?"
"I wished it was your hands, too." There. She'd said it.
"Today, they will be." Without another word, he carried her into the shower, so their lovemaking might continue.
