Page 28 of Caught By the Kingpin
Once, twice, and she shatters. She grips my cock even tighter than before, milking me. And I didn’t mean for this to end—god knows I’d have kept fucking her until the end of time, I love being inside her that much—but she drags me over with her into hot spurt after hot spurt.
I keep coming, more than I can remember. I’ve been waiting for her and my body knows what its job is here: to breed her.
It’s with primal delight I feel the wetness overflowing, making us both sticky. All that seed for my girl, and a baby soon too.
* * *
She giggles and hides her wide grin when we pull up outside the famous blacksmiths in Gretna Green. The sunset stains the sky red and purple, and the yellow evening light catches on Felicity’s white dress, making it gold like the decorations she used to warn me the first time we met.
She changed into that flowing dress when I finally conceded she’d had enough orgasms for now. I allowed a slight clean-up, but I know for a fact my semen is still dripping through her knickers and down the inside of her thigh, and I’m glad. I want everyone to smell sex on her, and know she belongs to me.
“I can’t believe we’re really going to get married at Gretna Green today,” she says as I help her out of the limo and she straightens her white dress.
“Do you mind?”
“No.” She wraps an arm around my waist. “I like that you know what you want.”
“And what I want is you.” I pull her in with a hand on her shoulder. She fits me perfectly.
“It’s like a romance novel,” she marvels as we take in the little whitewashed cottage.
“You wanted to be married to a Regency rake, didn’t you?”
“A duke, actually.”
“Brat,” I reply affectionately. I love her sassy mouth. “You got kidnapped by a…” I’m distracted by her hand sliding down to the top of my arse.
“I think you count as a highwayman?”
“Right, a highwayman. That will have to do, as I have no intention of letting you go.”
“Oh thank god, because I suspect I’d die without you.”
“Mr Brent.” A man meets us at the door with a nod. I owe Paulo a pay raise I decide, as I find he’s fixed all the paperwork so I don’t have to threaten to kill anyone because they don’t deal with getting us married quickly enough, as well as arranged nice touches like a bouquet and champagne that make the stars in Felicity’s eyes sparkle even brighter.
The ceremony is thankfully short, which is good because I’m impatient to have Felicity in my arms and on my cock again. There are vows that I repeat, promises to love no matter what. And when she says the same to me, my heart expands so big it threatens to crack my ribs from the inside. She slides a ring onto my finger and we smirk at each other at the symbolism and the memories. There is going to be so much time for us to make all the tender and wild moments together. The rest of our lives.
We retire to a hotel and it’s after I’ve got her back into bed and enjoyed my white-clad bride that we’re lying on the bed, her laid over me, that she brings it up. We’ve talked about some of our future, each feeling out the other’s preferences. I just say yes to whatever she wants. Eight kids? Sure. Another library? Why not. A bakery? Why not two?
“What about Westminster?”
“What about them?”
“Won’t they still be after me? They were pretty intent on wiping out Kensington.”
I pull out my phone.
“How do you have this number?” the kingpin of Westminster, Benedict Crosse, snaps.
“Hello to you too, Crosse.” I get distracted by Felicity’s ankle, bending her knee so it’s closer, stroking over the bone and pressing into her achilles.
I only realise I’ve been silent when my neighbouring mafia lord says irritably, “What do you want?”
“If anything happens to Kensington’s daughter, I will consider it as a personal attack.” Her whole foot fits in my hand. It’s dainty and I massage the arch, making her sigh happily.
“Oh that was you, was it?” he drawls. “I wondered who took the girl.”
“Mygirl.” I transfer my attention to the ball of her foot. I’ll need to do her other foot too. “Mywife.”
