Mr. & Mrs.: An Arranged Marriage Romance Read online

  “You ain’t so bad yourself.” My awkward words make him grin, and I feel less stupid when he starts rocking his hips, dragging every ounce of pleasure he can from my body.

  “That’s it, pretty girl, keep coming all over me. I want every tiny, little dew drop.” His dirty words only add to my pleasure.

  Hiking my legs up his hips, he sits back on his heels while pulling me onto his thighs. The angle pushes him deeper inside me, and with every stroke, I feel his dick hit my cervix then drag back down across my g-spot. I cry out with every pass.

  “So good,” I mumble incoherently while my head spins.

  “Fuck yeah, it is.” His hips slow their pace but increase in their force, and I can’t help the scratches I leave along his forearms while he holds my hips in place.

  “Jordan,” I cry out as my womb pulses, my core tightens, and stars darken my gaze. “Oh god, Jordan!” A scream tears through my body while his hips continue their relentless pursuit of his own satisfaction.

  My body is as tight as a rattler’s coil about to spring, and have mercy, do I spring! Bright lights, ringing ears, stars burst like fireworks in my brain as every nerve in my body rockets through the stratosphere. Pleasure consumes every ounce of me. When his hands tighten, it only enhances my bliss.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come.” He groans, leaning forward, the hairs on his chest scratching at my over-sensitive nipples.

  Running my hands up his arms, I delve into his dark hair, gripping it with my fingers. “Will you come for me, Jordan?” A growl vibrates through his chest at my bold words, and I can’t help but egg him on even more as I’m still pulsing around his shaft. “Will you show me how much you want me?”

  The feral look that enters his nearly black gaze sucks the oxygen from my body as his pace picks up speed to the point of sweet agony.

  “Please,” I pant as I feel another orgasm building within. “Come with me, please.” I can’t help but beg.

  Both of my husband’s hands capture my hair in a grip so tight it’s painful, but I can’t tell him. I have no breath left in my body as a release bigger than anything I’ve ever felt before washes through me like a riptide on a stormy night.

  “Jordan!” I scream at the same time I feel a rush of warmth release from his cock, enhancing my own orgasm. Black dots envelop my vision, and all I see is the flash of possessive light in his eyes as the intense pleasure knocks me out cold.

  Jordan

  Megan passed out after we came together, and I carried her into the tiny hut when she began shivering in the sand. I’m sure every little crevice she has is blasted with those prickly crystalline grains right now, just like mine, but I can’t be bothered to wake her yet.

  I sleep briefly until the sun begins to glow, and I have been watching the steady rise and fall of her chest ever since. Her little moans when I brush my fingers along her breasts or the inside of her thighs lighten my heart.

  Megan is so much more than I ever expected from an anonymous bride. She’s the best part of what any man would want.

  She just wants to be loved and accepted for who she is.

  Her skin is so soft and perfect that I find myself looking for flaws. I don’t know why; I just find it hard to believe anything can be so pristine as her. And yet she is. From her satiny soft hair to her freckled nose, down her baby bump to her pink painted toenails. I can’t find a single thing wrong with her. I don’t know if what I’m feeling for her is love, but it’s damn sure close to what I’ve imagined the sensation to be. It devours me. My every waking thought has been about Megan for two days now.

  I’ve never pushed work so far out of my mind that I have forgotten to check emails. My employees might be in for a huge surprise when we get back to D.C. next week. If my return is anything like it is now, I don’t know how I’ll cope when we are separated.

  Which reminds me. I need to see about having my assistant transferred to someone else.

  For months, she has made it clear that she wouldn’t mind warming my bed at night. I’ve ignored or brushed her off every time, but there’s no doubt in my mind she’d push Megan’s limits, and that is not a risk I’m willing to take with my new wife.

  Wife.

  I can’t help the grin that overtakes my features as I get up from the bed before I ravish her again. I need to get things set up so her transition into my life will be as smooth as possible.

  I wonder how she will feel about bodyguards? I bet she’ll fight me, and I kind of look forward to it.

  Opening my email, I see over three hundred messages from buyers, suppliers, employees, a ton from my assistant, and I have to wonder, do none of these people know how to do their jobs without me? We offer extensive training for every position, and I find it hard to believe not a single one of them can handle a few days without my direction.

  Christ! I run a hand down my face as I realize I do this to myself. I always have to maintain control, make sure things are running smoothly. I don’t like when people fuck up, and it’s well known my temper can get the best of me when they do.

  Looking over at Megan as she sleeps soundlessly, I know my tyrannical behaviors will have to change. I can’t keep going at the pace I have been. Not if I want to keep her happy, impregnate her as often as possible, and have a family life.

  Growing up, my parents were always happy. My mom kept Dad in line, and she pretended to scold me occasionally. Being a surprise baby for them both, they spoiled me rotten most of my life while instilling good values in me over the years.

  A family of my own had never been a top priority for me. I figured if it happened, it happened. If it didn’t, well…I hadn’t thought too much on that.

  With Megan becoming a part of me now, and her baby on the way, it’s all I can think of. I want her happy and healthy while she gives me this gift. Part of that means making sure she doesn’t stress and worry about me while I’m at work or feel like she’s raising our children alone because of my long hours. As soon as we get home, I’ll be making a lot of drastic changes that some will likely be glad for and others may panic over.

  A light moan has me closing my laptop just as Megan sits up. The sheets pool at her waist and those magnificently perky tits of hers are on display, swinging lightly as she stretches her arms above her head.

  “Morning, Mag-pie.” I crawl up from the end of the bed as she smiles softly. “Don’t do that now,” I command when she attempts to obscure her breasts.

  Covering her mouth, she giggles, “I have morning breath,” when I go to kiss her.

  “I don’t give a fuck.” Pushing her hand away, I seal our lips together like a fuse. Driving her back onto the bed and tossing the sheet out of the way, I make room for myself between her luscious thighs.

  “Oh yeah,” I groan, feeling the wetness collecting on her soft pussy for me.

  “Jordan.” Her giggles turn to sighs as I kiss and suck along her neck.

  Clasping our hands together, I raise them above her head while positioning my cock at her entrance. Pushing through her supple skin, I enter her tight channel, unable to hold back my growl of possession as she wraps her thighs around my hips.

  Connected in the most intimate way possible, my hips start a slow motion, our passion burning in light embers as we both fight not to lose control. Moans, skin slapping skin, the waves shushing from the water lapping at the shore are the only sounds included in our own little symphony.

  Every time Megan grows closer to bliss, her breath stutters and her ass wiggles, so I slow my speed, adjust my position. Her little growls of annoyance are my reward.

  “Jordan, please…” She begs so beautifully.

  “Please what, Mag-pie?” I love teasing her. She hates it, but in the end, I’ll make it worth the torture.

  “Let me come.” Her whine is followed by a high-pitched squeal as I slam my cock into her core. “Oh, Jordan.” She sings a different tune now as she comes apart for me, her pleasure soaking our already sweaty bodies.

&nbs
p; Whimpers continue to brush past her lips as I chase my pleasure. Her body lays lax in my arms as my thrusting picks up speed. Tingling in my spine and my balls drawing up tight to my body, has me wishing that I would last longer. That she wasn’t so tempting to watch fly apart.

  I want to rule her pleasure for hours, hear her screams long into the night as she scratches and claws at my back. I want her to beg me to stop because the carnality is too much for her to take.

  Fuck.

  Just the image of her begging has me coming again.

  “Megan.” I grunt into her like an animal.

  She holds me like she never wants to let me go.

  Megan

  I can’t believe I let him take me so soon.

  My mind is screaming that I’m a lunatic while my heart sings with praise. Jordan is…magnificent. He’s caring, kind, compassionate. Overbearing, egotistical, sometimes rude.

  “Tell me something,” Jordan says from beside me.

  “Hmm.” I can barely be bothered to open my eyes. His fingers drawing circles on my back relaxes me.

  “When you heard my name”—that grabs my attention—“you looked like you were being forced to suck on a lemon. Why?”

  Sitting up, I draw the sheet around my chest, not wanting to admit what I was about to. Playing with the material, I finally say, “You were in the newspaper, years ago. I don’t even know why your name stuck with me. It was a stupid tabloid.”

  “What’d it say?”

  “It was an accusation about abusing a girlfriend.” I can’t bring myself to look at him. With the way he behaves towards me, I have no doubt it was just that, an accusation. I feel stupid for even thinking about it at all.

  “Megan, look at me.” He lifts my chin up with a finger. “Her name was Sara Ward. We dated three times. Never slept together, and when I broke up with her, she made up the bullshit story to get some attention and money.”

  “I didn’t think you did it,” I say quietly. I don’t really care who she is or was to him.

  “Now, maybe you don’t. But it stuck with you so you must have wondered at some point.”

  “Did you get into trouble?”

  “Oh, the press crucified me.” He laughs like it was no big deal. “The company ripped me a new one”—he kisses my palm—“and the cops brushed her off. There was no physical proof on her body or in picture form.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?” I frown. I’d be horrified.

  “It did at first, but after a while, I just let it roll off my back. I work with the military on a daily basis; someone is always going to try and discredit me. Whether it’s personal or professional is another story.

  “Oh. Your job sucks then.”

  His laughter is contagious. “Yeah, some days it does.” Running a finger along my cheek, he holds a tender look on his face as he asks, “How about we get some food into you and peanut?”

  Nodding just as my stomach makes its desire known, I ask, “Where are we going?”

  “I thought we could stay here. Talk, relax, swim.”

  The heated look in his gaze speaks about doing so much more. “I’ll go shower while you order.”

  His laughter follows my scattering feet to the tiny bathroom area. As soon as the water hits my body, I feel every aching muscle from our lovemaking and smile in remembrance. His rough hands as he held me sweetly is something I’ll treasure forever.

  Jordan

  The freedom with which Megan giggles and laughs is the stuff a man like me lives for. It means I’m doing shit right when I feel like I might be pushing her too far.

  Keeping myself from jumping into that shower with her while I wait for our breakfast to get here is taking every ounce of self-control I have. I don’t want to suffocate her with my presence, but I also don’t like her having too much time to think about us and if we are moving too fast.

  Listening to her now, she’s humming, and I’m hoping that means she’s satisfied. A ding from my computer captures my attention. Opening the device, the email pops up, and I see an angry note from my assistant threatening to report to HR about harassment. Dismissing her angry threats, I delete her email without responding. Little does she know, but I have cameras in my office with recordings of each proposition she made and every denial from me.

  “Everything okay, Jordan?” Megan’s soft voice dispels my annoyed mood immediately.

  Pulling her onto my lap, my mouth waters at the tiny blue bikini she’s wearing. “This should be illegal.”

  “What should?” She looks around, slightly confused.

  “How good you look.” Her hand slaps my chest playfully. “Breakfast will be here soon. Orange juice, fruit platter, a few pastries, and some yogurt.”

  “That sounds divine.”

  “Eat outside?” There is a small deck built onto the side of the house with a patio table and is covered in shade.

  Guiding my wife out, I get her settled before I start grilling her with questions. “I thought maybe we should talk about a few things before we get home.”

  Worry replaces her smile. “About what?” The way she’s vibrating in her seat both pisses me off and makes me sad for her.

  “Nothing bad, sweetheart. I want to know more about your life. What your expectations are from this marriage.”

  Blowing out a breath, she fills me in on enough to make me want to throttle this ex of hers.

  “Well, when I quit school, I started working full-time in the department store I’ve been at for a few years. I had planned on taking a month off after the baby was born then going back.” She looks down like she’s ashamed. “Connor isn’t going to help, so it’s my only option.”

  Cupping her cheeks in my hands, I kneel in front of her. “Megan.” My sigh is heavy. “I’m your option. I’m peanut’s option. I know it’s going to take some getting used to, but I will take care of you. Both of you.”

  “I don’t want you to think– “

  “It has nothing to do with what I might think. It’s what I want. To help you. I want you to come to me when you need anything. I want you to think of my money as our money.” Shaking my head, I force down my laughter. “Christ, woman, I could buy a small country if I had the desire to. Taking care of you and every child we have together is going to be a blessing.”

  Tears hover on her eyelids. “You’ll…” She pauses. “You’ll still love us even after taking care of us?” She seems completely baffled by the concept.

  “I’ll love you more if you let me. What I feel for you has no conditions. There’s no time limit to it either.”

  Jumping into my arms, we fall backwards and right onto the waiter’s feet as he’s delivering our breakfast. “Good morning!” He says it like it happens all the time.

  After getting Megan fed and content, we head out to play in the water and collect more seashells to decorate our home with. She seems lighter after our talk. Happier. I still have more questions, but nothing that can’t wait until we get home again.

  Megan

  After a blissful week in Bora Bora, we’ve just landed back home in Washington, D.C. as the sun is setting. Exhaustion has kicked my butt after the long flight, and Jordan decides to carry me through the airport and to the car. Someone offered to get a cart for us to ride in, but he growled and claimed it wasn’t a burden.

  He silenced my laughter with a panty-melting kiss.

  As the Town Car he summoned drives through D.C. and into the Great Falls District, I realize just how loaded my new husband is. The homes we pass are ones that get mentioned in the likes of House and Home Magazine. I’ve always envied the people who live here. Not because of how much money they have but for the freedom from nosey neighbors. Having acres upon acres of land grants them more privacy than your average neighborhood. Living in the country has always been a dream I’ve never allowed to come out and play too often.

  The home we stop in front of is brick and mortar; it has an older feel to it. Gates at least ten feet high greet us as we make our way
up the drive. Ponds filled with Koi fish are on either side of the blacktop.

  “Those will have to go when the baby comes,” Jordan says with frustration.

  “Oh no, please, don’t get rid of something you like.” I’d be horrified if he did that.

  He laughs at me. “Baby, I don’t care about the damn ponds. I care if our son or daughter drowns. They’re going.”

  “You can’t keep saying stuff like that.”

  “Why?” His voice is deep as he leans towards me.

  “Because you make me melt when you do.”

  The car door opening behind me stops any further conversation. Receiving help from the vehicle with a foreign hand, I wait for Jordan on the first step leading up to his monstrous home.

  The stoic pillars on either side of the door are intimidating as he grabs my hand, leading the way up to the double paned glass door. “Wow,” I murmur as he opens it, and I get to see the intricate swirls throughout. “This is beautiful.”

  “It’s part of the original house. Same with the bricks and the pillars.” Pride colors his words.

  The inside is just as stunning as the outside with the cedar floors and banister on the staircase. Everything looks to be hand carved.

  “There are six bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom, a powder room is through there”—he points to a small room as we pass—“family room there, and the kitchen is in the back, fully stocked with everything you could ask for. Once you’re more settled, we’ll do that together, and you can add whatever you want.” Jordan grins from ear to ear as he relays what every room is for. The rec room is massive, and he insists we’ll turn it into a playroom for the baby when it’s time.

  As we pass one of the rooms, I get a quick glimpse of a library and one of those old roller desks. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling from his grip and walking into the space.