With a bottle of wine in my hand and a plan to seduce my fiancée, I stuck my key in the door, ready to claim my prize, until I heard the feral, agonized scream on the other side of the door. My fingers fumbled, and I almost dropped the keys. Frantically, I shoved the key into the lock and slammed the door open, running down the hallway, wine bottle overhead, ready to use it as a weapon. I slid into the great area and looked to the right to see the living room empty.
I looked to the left to find a distraught Ana, her chest heaving over quick breaths as she glared at the TV.
“Fuck, Ana. Are you okay?” I barely got the words out, my heart pounding a thousand miles a minute, trying to come down from the adrenaline coursing through my body. I took a deep breath and walked toward the island to set the wine down. “Ana.” I said her name again when her eyes glazed over with tears.
“Our church.” That was all she said, barely croaking it out as she lifted her hand, gesturing toward the TV.
“What?” I rounded the island, approaching her like I would a wild animal.
“Our church, it’s gone.” The first tear fell when I reached her, and I pulled her into my arms. Rocking her, I looked to see what was on TV, and sure enough, there was a newscast covering how the church we were supposed to get married in had burnt down. Fuck me. Ana loved that church.
“Shh. Shh.” I ran my hands down her long hair. “We’ll find a new one.”
“Find a new one?” She jerked her head back, brows lowered, mouth pinched. “That church was a miracle, and now it’s fucking gone. Where are we going to find another church, Kevin?” She pulled out of my arms with a humorless laugh. “We’ll add it to the list, right after a new bakery.” Running her hands through her hair, she walked to the edge of the island and tossed her arms wide. “Oh, yeah. We need to find another florist because we won’t be able to get our flowers after some twelve-year-old fucked it all up.”
“What?” I was trying to follow what she was saying, but the way she rambled and was choking back sobs made it difficult. My mind was spinning with ways to keep up. “The flowers?”
“Yeah, just got off a phone call with them.” She turned to me with sad, defeated eyes and just stared. I held her gaze, trying to see what to do next. Her chest moved faster and faster like she couldn’t control her breathing. “Fuck!” she shouted, turning to lean over the counter. “Fuck this stupid wedding. Fuck the people. Fuck the flowers. Fuck the cake. Fuck everything. This is so fuck—”
“That’s enough.” My voice was hard and loud, demanding she stop. Her fists clenched against the granite and her hair fell like a curtain, hiding her face from me. I had to stop her from spiraling out of control. And I only knew one way to do it. It may not have been exactly how I planned our night going, but she needed me to take control and give her a reprieve from thinking about the wedding. “Kneel.”
She stood, shaking her head. “Kevin, I’m not in the—.”
“I said, kneel.” I deepened my tone, not allowing any question whether I was serious and not taking no for an answer. When she turned to look at me finally, I made my eyes hard, steady, ready to take on her pain. She took in a shaky breath as she faced me. “I won’t say it again, Anabelle.”
Swallowing hard, she knelt.
I turned the TV off and walked over to her before burrowing my hands into her hair to pull it off her face. Fisting it tight, I jerked her head back, so she had no choice but to look at me. “Take my cock out—quickly—and get me hard. Use your mouth.”
About the Author:
Fiona Cole is a military wife and a stay at home mom with degrees in biology and chemistry. As much as she loved science, she decided to postpone her career to stay at home with her two little girls, and immersed herself in the world of books until finally deciding to write her own.