Rough Justice Read Online Frankie Love

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
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“Then, I absolutely pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

And I do just that. Firmly, powerfully, making it absolutely clear.

I love Merit with all of my heart, and I’ll try my damndest to make every day from now on the best day of her life.

We stumble over to the fanciest bed-and-breakfast near Home, the aptly named Home Away From Home. We don’t have a place of our own yet, and with what we want to do to one another tonight, it doesn’t feel right to go back to my parents’ house after the wedding.

Plus? It’s a bit closer to the airport, so tomorrow it’ll be easier to get to the plane and fly out to Paris for our journey through Europe over the next month or so. Merit wants to see some more of the world, and knowing that’s what she wants has given me a sudden appreciation for tourism as well. Kinda funny how that works.

We head in, flashing our reservation. I sweep her off her feet and carry her up the stairs, the owner smiling at us. This must be an all too common thing for her, but she seems to delight in seeing another happy couple.

Merit chuckles as we burst through our door, and I kick it closed behind us. I kiss her as we land on the bed.

“Careful, I want to take care of this dress. Treasure it.”

She slides off the bed, and starts to dance a bit for me. A wedding dress strip-tease. I lean back and watch her do her thing, the dress sliding down her body and revealing the voluptuous form beneath her gown. My attention is locked on her, and I start to strip myself. Not in any particularly sexy way, but I’m wearing a lot. I never knew what a cummerbund was before the wedding, and I’d like to avoid having to ever wear one again.

I’m shirtless by the time she folds the dress and lays it down gently on a chair, which took a bit of the eroticism out of her strip-tease, but hey, that’s life. The boring parts interrupt the fun parts, and that makes the anticipation for the fun parts all the more joyful.

Merit drops her bra, prancing back and forth, swaying those beautiful, delectable tits of hers. My cock is screaming to escape these slacks, and I undo the button to let it out. It stands in complete tribute to the sexual goddess that is the newly christened Merit Rough. She jumps on me, straddling me with glee.

I roll her over, taking my place on top. We have plenty of time to explore one another gently, to give and take. But for now? I give in to pure and primal lust for her.

“I’m going to fuck you so much and so hard tonight that we might be late for our flight,” I say, stealing a kiss and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Just saying you might be walking a little weird tomorrow. It might slow us down.”

“Ooo. Yeah, make me walk weird, Mac. Give it all to me. Claim me properly as your wife.”

I put my hand on her pussy, rubbing her clit underneath those frilly, lacy white panties of hers. She strokes my cock, pulling me toward her. I groan for her, so ready to just ravish her until she’s screaming her new husband’s name.

“Anything and everything for you, Merit. Anything and everything.”

EPILOGUE 2

MERIT

FIVE YEARS LATER

It’s a bit of a throwback looking out into the fields. It’s what my father probably wanted for me, at least at first before he fell into a horrible conspiracy rabbit hole. Something that wouldn’t look out of place in the 1800s.

Except, well, not. Automated sprinklers, cell phones, and the blaring television in the background remind me that this is the modern age.

A blend of the old and new, the best of everything. The Rough family built this farmhouse with their bare hands, pure passion and dedication to love and family.

I rock my one-year-old son, MacIntyre. Mac Jr., as some of our family have suggested. I learned of the naming convention that the whole family uses, to do with their pregnancy cravings. While I did have a hankering for apples, it may have been a fib that they were macintyre apples in particular. I’ve always been more of a golden delicious girl myself, but I’m going to keep that my little secret.

Then there’s the twins. Chasing one another happily through the fields, Apple and Cinna are too precious for this world. Their names are definitely more true to the theme. When I was pregnant with them, I couldn’t get enough of anything that was apple cinnamon flavored – cereal, oatmeal, muffins, and whatever else a company decided to throw that delicious blend on.

The kitchen timer goes off and I carry Mac Jr. back into the house. A hearty and meaty lasagna is ready, a wonderful meal for the entire family. Setting my child down, I pull the dish out to cool so it doesn’t burn any precious little mouths.


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