Title: Make It to the Altar
(#1.5 of Shame Me Not)
Author: Fiona Cole
Genre: Erotica Romance, BDSM
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It took Kevin and Ana ten years to find their happily ever after, and they can't wait to claim each other as husband and wife.
But when one thing after the next goes wrong, they begin to wonder if they’ll ever get to say their ‘I do’s’.
As Ana starts to crumble under the stress, Kevin knows that he needs a plan. Her submission calms her, his control centers them both, and speeding up their path to matrimony seems to be the best course of action.
That is, if they can make it to the altar.
Excerpt . . .
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.”
Giveaway . . .
About the Author . . .
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