Deklan
He laughs loudly as my eyes widen, and I process his words.
Did he…did he kill his own father? Is that what he is telling me?
Sean leans in close to me.
“You didn’t lie about being a virgin, did you?”
“No,” I whisper back.
“Have you seen your husband?” I stare at him, not knowing how to answer. Sean grabs my arm and points toward Deklan. “Just look at those size-fifteen shoes. You know his cock has got to be a monster. You’re going to get ripped open tonight.”
I freeze, inside and out, and Sean walks away from me, still laughing.
I have intentionally not thought about what is going to happen on my wedding night. Even when I thought I was going to marry Sean, I didn’t let myself think about it. In my mother’s words, “It’s just something you have to put up with.”
&nb
sp; I know her thinking is old-fashioned. I know there are plenty of women out there who enjoy sex. I know there are men out there who want to make sure the women they are with enjoy it, too. I’ve masturbated. I know what an orgasm feels like. I’ve also known such things were off the table, considering my betrothal, and so—like most things I can’t control—I have pushed thoughts of sex out of my mind.
I’ve never seen an actual penis. Pictures, sure, but those were all in the name of online health classes. I’ve heard rumors that the size of a man’s dick corresponds to the size of his feet…or his hands…or his nose…or the gap between his teeth…or a dozen other random body parts. Is there any truth to any of it?
Every part of Deklan is oversized.
You’re going to get ripped open tonight.
Is that a real possibility?
I had given the act of sex very little thought, but now I can’t get it out of my head.
Chapter 4
“This is my place.” Deklan passes by me and walks over to the kitchen where he grabs a coffee cup from the sink. He tilts his head to one side. “Our place, I guess I should say.”
The apartment is only a few minutes from the Foley estate. Before leaving, my mother had grasped my hands without looking into my eyes and then started crying as Dad hauled her off, and I got into Deklan’s car, scooping the train of my dress up and piling it on my lap as I sat in the low seat of the car.
It’s a flashy sports car, but I don’t know what kind.
There was silence the whole drive over here. Deklan didn’t even turn on the radio, and I opted to stare out the window instead of watching him shift gears with his huge hands.
I swallow hard and look around the sparse apartment, clutching the little bag my mother had packed for me.
If those home and garden magazines had a special edition for “typical bachelor pad,” this place would fit nicely on the cover. The television is huge. Underneath it is a Blu-ray player and some kind of gaming console. There’s a couch, a recliner, and a coffee table, but that’s it for furniture. The walls are bare. There’s a short hallway that I assume leads to the bathroom and bedroom.
Bedroom.
I swallow again.
The kitchen is big enough to be the eat-in sort, but there is no kitchen table. I watch as Deklan washes out the coffee cup and places it on the top shelf in the cabinet. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath before turning around.
“Do you want anything?” he asks.
Yes. I want to go home.
I shake my head slowly.
“You sure? I’ve got bottled water in the fridge.”
“I’m sure.” My voice sounds small and meek. I feel small just being in this man’s presence. I tense my fingers around the handle of the overnight bag. My palms are sweating, and my grip keeps faltering.