???? ?? ???? - "farm to table"
????? ??????? ????? - "locally sourced cusine"
????? - asshole
Chapter 8 – A Carnal Symphony
In which Lauren discovers hoping Thomas will just roll over and fall asleep is inadequate protection from his delicious and filthy intent. Also, muffins and coffee, just not with Chuck.
When Thomas opened his eyes again, he knew two things at once- first, it was early morning- 2:15 by the glow of his stainless-steel Rolex, and secondly, he was still alone in his suddenly oversized bed. His dark brows drew together. Did his sweet bride panic and run? Did he terrify her enough to flee, thinking her utterly useless father's life was worth sacrificing for her freedom? Briefly, he was filled with respect for her. Frank Marshwasworthless. He'd given up his only child in a heartbeat. He should be fucked over in the most heartless possible way. Still, Thomas sat up, putting his feet on the floor and rubbing his eyes. Number Two was not a betting man. He was too obsessed with the odds and the outcomes and the probabilities of any given situation to do something as ludicrous as guessing what might have happened. His lovely new wife would be upstairs, sleeping uncomfortably in the only chair in her new conservatory, rather than getting into bed with her monstrous spouse. In fact, Thomas chuckled as he climbed the stairs to the fourth floor of his house, she would lie half-awake all night, rather than be in the same room as the man who'd given her three orgasms the night before, no matter how much he frightened or infuriated her. His Lauren- his pace slowed for a moment, when did she becomehisLauren? Nonetheless, she was his. His Lauren was a good girl. She'd agreed to this unfortunate transaction to save the old man's life in the first place. His Lauren was the kind of good girl who kept her promises.
Of course, Williams was correct. His bride was curled in an awkward little bundle, one hand still holding her cello's bow. He towered over her for a moment, looking over the graceful lines of her, even contorted to fit in the leather club chair. Something twinged in his chest, seeing the dried tear tracks on her cheek. Even while terrifying her after her foolish "Bratva" comment, Lauren had kept her composure. He'd disliked feeling her curl away from him, the terror in her lavender gaze... Thomas idly smoothed her blonde hair off her forehead. He'd seen a lavender field in Provence, France once. Not anywhere as beautiful as his new wife's eyes. As much as he appreciated her courage, but he couldn't allow her to spout off about the Bratva. She belonged to him now. Lauren was his responsibility and no one- NO ONE would be allowed to hurt her. Leaning down, Williams picked her up, holding the girl to his chest as he walked back down to their bedroom.
Perversely, he wanted to stain his snowy-white sheets with her again, take his bride's virginity twice. Thomas had actually chuckled unkindly when he'd pulled back his down comforter that night to see the linens changed. As if he wouldn't know she'd been untouched. As if he wouldn't know everything there was to know about this beautiful, excellent selection as his wife.
Thomas carefully undressed Lauren, unsurprised that she didn't awaken. The combination of the freefall from adrenalin, her anger, and four glasses of wine had made sturdier souls than her sleep like the dead. (There were one or two that specifically ended up that way at his hand, he thought, but that was a memory for another time.) His beautiful mouth shaped into a knowing grin when Thomas slipped off her dress, seeing the pretty matching undies. They looked delicious, like something he'd like to remove from her with his teeth. In fact, all that smooth skin was luscious and tempting. Bending over her on the bed, the man ran his cool mouth over one collarbone, and then the other, his tongue dipping into the hollows above them- tasting his bride's warm skin. She smelled of peppermint from the soap she loved, with a dash of rosin from her bow, the rosemary scent of her shampoo, and the faintest fruity tones of the good wine they'd had with dinner in the old shoe factory. Groaning just slightly, Thomas was struck with the desire to lick her all over, like a big cat. Instead, he settled for gently nudging her breast up and free from the red and black bra, suckling her pink nipple into his mouth, toying with it with the tip of his tongue. His warm mouth was the first thing that made the girl stir, her head turning unconsciously toward him, letting out a sigh.
Lauren knew musical instruments- her long fingers and clever hands knew how to coax the melody from them. Thomas however,knew women. He understood how to draw out a gasp or a moan, what made one girl shriek and another pass out with a soundless gasp. But he was still finding his way around his bride and quite interested in learning everything that would pull the music from her. So, while the girl hovered, half-asleep, he toyed with each breast, keeping them trussed in her bra, stroking one finger over the wet lace lining of her undies. He ran his tongue up the silky skin of the inside of her arm and bit lightly on the throbbing cord in her neck. His cock grew uncomfortably hard at the symphony he was creating with Lauren, enjoying her soft moans and the louder, sharper gasps. It was when his mouth was placing a long, cat-like lick along her wet slit that he heard a little trill- a high-pitched sound like a bird's. Fascinated, he licked his wife's center again, dividing her lips and sliding the tip of his tongue between them. The musical hitch came again as her back arched, pushing her wet pussy against his mouth. When Thomas pursed his lips around her stiff clitoris and sucked, Lauren came awake with a scream. Her hands flew down to grab at her husband's hair, maybe to grip those almost-curls and yank him away, or... It was too late, she felt the orgasm barrel up her legs, making them shake and cycle through her pussy like a series of electrical shocks, the cycle beginning cruelly again when he slid one, then two fingers inside her, swirling, pumping up and down, scissoring- no movement long enough for her to concentrate and try to regain some semblance of control. After finding a couple of different spots inside her that made Lauren wail and try to slam her thighs together, her diabolical groom slid up her body, taking her hands from his hair and crossing them over her head, holding them with one hand while the other turned her face to kiss him. He grinned against her mouth when the girl tasted herself and stiffened.
"Ah, ah!" he scolded gently, "You have been utterly delicious tonight. You must taste what I have been enjoying." Bending to kiss her again, Thomas ran his tongue over her full lips and slipped inside again, delicately tracing her teeth and then her tongue, before sucking it into his mouth. Purring against her ear, he enjoyed her corresponding shudder. "I've been making music with your lovely little body tonight. Would you like to hear it?"
Her eyes were wide, but not frightened, and the girl didn't even try to pull her hands from his grip. Lauren was utterly confounded, falling asleep in that miserably uncomfortable chair and suddenly waking up under her husband's long body. "I- what are- oh, GOD!" Lauren's voice swooped up a few registers when his white teeth landed in her neck, worrying the flesh like a lion, just barely not breaking the skin. One hand was plucking lightly from one nipple to the other while the other hand's fingers resumed their insidious play inside her. Staring back at Thomas's intent gaze, she tried to remember the words to make him stop- to tell him that is NOT what she wanted and certainly NOT from an asshole who shoved her up against a brick wall and scared the shit out of her because she said the "B" word. And then, she felt the broad head of her husband's cock circling her opening, sliding in teasingly enough to allow his puffy tip to pop in and out of the tight seal of her entrance. In her dazed brain, she could hear the percussive sounds of her gasping and moaning, every now and then the high-pitched keen when the horrible man's cock almost pushed inside her. And finally, the shameful melody of her inviting whines, escaping her clenched teeth when Thomas finally smoothly shoved himself up her passage, his corresponding growls rumbling in tandem with Lauren's moaning.
Fortunately, Lauren's infernal spouse slowed halfway inside her, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving his hips sinuously, back and forth, playing with her without violently forcing his way inside. It was the taunting, slow play of his granite cock inside her that broke her determination to remain silent. "You are a horrible person," she noted in a small voice. Pausing long enough to raise up on his elbow to look at her, Thomas suddenly smiled. It was terrifying. It was arousing. It was murderously confident that she would not say 'no' to him, no matter what he chose to do to her.
"I am," he agreed and bent to kiss her as his shaft made its way up inside her again. When he finally felt some of the rigid tension leave the strong adductor muscles in her thighs, Thomas began sliding in and out faster, steadily pushing to the top of her and pausing for a moment, rotating his hips and gloating a bit about how very deep he could bury himself inside his wife.
Staring up at him, Lauren was struck with the beauty of this bizarre and terrifying man. Thomas's head was thrown back in bliss, eyes closed and thick lashes resting on his cheekbones. His mouth was slightly open and he was groaning helplessly as he circled inside her again. She was suddenly struck with an inexplicable pride that she could bring this seamless, urbane bastard to his metaphorical knees, moaning and growling like a big cat inside her, no longer in control of everything. Sheownedsome part of him- and the girl was filled with a strange sense of power, tightening down on his shaft and enjoying the corresponding hiss- half pleasure, half discomfort as her wet walls halted his movement for a moment. Dropping his forehead to the collarbone he'd lavished so much time on earlier, Thomas managed to groan, "Lovely, I fear that if you do not release me from this utterly enticing grip, I will finish immediately and leave you unsatisfied. Let your Sir take care of you first."
Sir?Lauren thought, a little distracted, he'd said that the other night when she came. What did the title mean to him- oh, sweet Jesus that felt good! He'd arched his hips to push roughly against the silky front of her pussy, using the hairy base of his cock to tickle and irritate her clit, making it itchy somehow, needing something to feel less... or more something... that-
Suddenly his mouth was at her ear again and Thomas was hoarsely whispering the filthiest, most complimentary things. Dirty praises about her "sweet cunt," and "how wet and silky she was inside," and how he'd "twist her clit until his good girl came and he'd let her rest, and-"
And, Lauren did, gripping her thighs against his waist and crossing her ankles just over the swell of his perfect ass, feeling it clench and unclench under the press of her heels, and the feeling of it along with his nasty talk sent her skyrocketing. She was being soloud, the girl thought vaguely as she wailed and gasped her aria, her little moans of pleasure as her relentless husband made her come once, then again. And as he surged and filled her with liquid heat, she shocked herself by coming again with him. She buried her face in his neck, confused and exhausted and deeply satisfied, and asleep before Thomas gently pulled his cock from her and enjoyed the slick rush of fluid seeping from her tender opening. Putting his head on his wife's abdomen, he ran his long fingers in the wet, sliding it along her swollen lips and pushing it back inside her. Something feral part of his brain made Thomas want to make sure Lauren took all of him. Every drop.
Waking that morning - quite a bit later that morning - Lauren opened her eyes to the sight of her husband's dark head resting comfortably between her quite unclothed breasts, his hips holding her legs open and one big, warm palm cupping her still slightly sore ass. And apparently her unconscious self was just as debauched, one hand on his head and the other on the smooth skin of his back. In fact, her sensitive fingertips were lightly stroking along the beautifully defined muscles there. The handsome bastard worked out, that was clear, she thought resentfully, wondering how he found the time in between raping and pillaging the business world and defiling his bride. Her wandering fingers suddenly crossed over a patch of rough, scarred tissue and Lauren raised her head from the pillow. Just above Thomas's kidneys and alarmingly close to his spine was a thick scar. It was wide but clean- clearly a precision cut and not something as clumsy as a bullet wound. Her lips tightened, suddenly furious at whoever tried to mutilate her husband so, forgetting for the moment of the irony, if not hypocrisy of her indignation.
As if he'd felt her fingers wandering on uncomfortable territory, Thomas's cerulean eyes suddenly opened, making her jump. How did hedothat? She thought crossly, coming instantly awake, like a snake or something. He was so abruptly alert that it made her paranoid that he'd ever been asleep at all.
"Good morning, lovely."
Lauren groaned internally. That man and his voice. That beautiful, infernal voice.
He was watching her with some amusement, as Thomas gracefully twisted to his side and onto his elbow, looking down at her. "You came to bed quite late," he scolded smoothly, leaning in to breathe her warm skin. "We really must work on your bedtime, darling." He enjoyed watching his bride actually grind her teeth.
"I'm not a child, Thomas," Lauren managed a polite tone, "I get plenty of sleep."
"Hmmm..." he agreed, tracing his fingers along those lovely collarbones of hers again, ignoring how his bride stiffened. "But your responsibilities will start stacking up once the LSO season begins, along with your Corporation duties." Thomas stifled a grin as Lauren's mouth dropped open in horror.
"But- I- I mean, I thought I was already-"
Even her stutter was musical, he thought fondly, softened from a surprisingly powerful orgasm that morning and the pleasure of giving his sweet innocent several of her own. "You've been dressing up nicely and going to dinner," he corrected. "There is more, of course. Arabella will help you." He noted how Lauren went rigid again.Really,he thought absently,I might need to work with her on her tells. My darling wife would be a terrible poker player.Still, intrigued he leaned up over her, neatly caging the girl in between his arms and looking into her eyes. "What concerns you about Number One's wife, darling?"Ah,he thought, watching her gaze dart away,there is something.
"Thomas, I need to get up," Lauren pleaded, "I need to go to... I need the bathroom, please."
He was quite certain she was avoiding his question, but it was hard to doubt a morning bladder, so he simply nodded and rolled over, allowing her freedom. He nearly chuckled as his sweet bride sat up, the white sheets sliding down to settle against her hips, just obscuring the line of her buttocks. She was looking for a robe or something to cover herself, and Thomas let her stew for a moment before calmly assuring her, "I shall close my eyes, lovely. You are free to scamper to the ensuite without scrutiny."
Lauren thought she heard him leave the bedroom, so she sighed with relief and opened the bathroom door to discover her horrible husband dressed for running and pulling out her workout gear from the dresser assigned to her. Stepping behind the door again, she looked at him pleadingly.
