Honeymoon from Hell IV (Honeymoon from Hell 4)

“Happy anniversary, minx,” he said as she opened the box and saw…

A necklace made out of stones?

Whatever it was, it was beautiful and she loved it because he’d made it for her. With a smile, she leaned up to kiss him, but he stepped back and focused his attention on the necklace.

“This white bead is from the old barn where you covered me in honey and feathers,” he said, drawing her attention back to the necklace. “This bead,” he said, pointing out a grey stone bead next, “is from the tree where I cut your hair off. This bead is from…”

He went on explaining where every stone had come from, pausing every now and then to smile, laugh or to reminisce about tales from their childhood. She listened as he went through each bead, growing more amazed by the minute. When he pointed out the bead from the orangery, she felt her bottom lip tremble. As he finished with the stone that he’d picked up outside their bedroom window on the night that she’d given birth to Jonathan, she found herself falling in love with her husband all over again.

“I love it,” she said, an understatement. It was the most beautiful, thoughtful gift that anyone had ever given her. It also made her realize just how much she meant to him.

“I’m glad,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, only this time she didn’t let him go.

“It’s my turn to give you your anniversary gift, Mr. Bradford.”

*-*-*-*

He was dying. There was no other explanation for it. His limbs weakly trembled as he dragged himself across the room. He couldn’t think of a time when he’d been so thirsty or hungry in his life. Several times over the last twenty-four hours he’d considered yelling for help, but he was beyond help. He knew that.

The cause of his destruction stirred behind him. He picked up the pitcher of water and chugged the lukewarm liquid. It did nothing to quench his thirst or ease his empty stomach.

“I think I’m dying,” he mumbled.

A weak laugh came from the bed. “I know I am,” Elizabeth said. “We have to stop…we have to…I need food…and water…..the baby, Robert,….think of the baby,” she implored weakly.

He took a deep breath. The baby needed food. His baby. He couldn’t help grinning. His minx was making him a father again, hopefully giving him a little girl to spoil this time. He hugged the pitcher to his chest and brought it over to her.

“Here. Drink this and I’ll get dressed and have Mrs. Brown send some food up.” He frowned as he looked at the door. “I wonder why they haven’t checked on us by now.”

“Probably because we scared them away,” she said as she took the pitcher from him. She almost dropped it. Her arms were so weak, but she couldn’t drink lying back this way. She got up on her knees with great difficulty. The only thing that mattered was the water. She didn’t care about being ladylike or anything else. She drank greedily, not caring about the water that spilled down her chin and down her chest and stomach. She was so thirsty. When she had her fill, she placed the now empty pitcher on the bed. Her eyes met Robert’s intense gaze and she knew that things were about to take a turn for the worse.

“Oh no,” she whimpered.

Robert stared at the water dripping down his wife’s breasts. He licked his lips. Every part of him save one was protesting the sight. He followed her frightened eyes downward. He was more than ready to go again. It felt like he hadn’t had her in years instead of minutes.

Elizabeth threw a pillow at him so she could scramble off the bed, desperate to make an escape. It was like that piece of his anatomy was in charge. He crawled after her. She didn’t bother with a nightgown or a wrap as she ran to the door and started pounding on it.

“Mrs. Brown!”

“Oh, thank the lord!” came Mrs. Brown’s worried voice from behind the door. “We were afraid you’d both perished.”

She looked back to see her husband trying to escape from the tangled sheets his foot got caught on.

“Mrs. Brown, listen I haven’t much time. Can you arrange for a large tray of food and drink to be delivered,” she looked over her shoulder to discover that Robert was close to getting free, “and water for a bath as well. Please!”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Brown said, sounding amused.

“Robert?” James suddenly said as he joined Mrs. Brown in the hall.

A soft growl behind her was the only answer he could manage. Elizabeth slowly turned around, plastering her back against the door. James knocked on the door. “Robert? Come down with me to the tavern, I’m bored. Robert?”

“I’m busy,” Robert answered in what sounded mostly like a snarl.

James’ answer was a pained sigh. “Come on, you’ve done your duty. Let’s go.”

A loud whimper escaped Elizabeth as he pounced on her. He was handsome, wicked and all hers. No matter how tired or weak she was at the moment he still had this strange affect on her body after all these years and in that moment, she wanted him more than anything.

“Robert?” James asked, sounding unsure.

Robert couldn’t answer at the moment. He was busy licking the water from Elizabeth’s skin. She was pinned tightly against the wall, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.

In one quick move, he was sheathed inside her. He wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from the door as he thrust inside her. The door groaned its protests as its hinges and frame were put to the test. If the position hurt Elizabeth, she wasn’t saying.

Just the opposite, in fact.

She demanded him to move harder and faster. At that moment, Robert didn’t care that his brother and Mrs. Brown were standing outside the door or that he was on the verge of starvation. He only cared about her, about his minx. He slammed into her, once, twice, three times and then she began screaming his name and doing her best to milk him dry.

“Lucky bastard,” he thought he heard his brother mutter, but he didn’t really care as he lost himself in the woman that he loved.

“Happy anniversary, Mr. Bradford,” his minx said minutes later as she pushed him to the floor to give him his gift all over again, making him wonder if he should call another truce before they ended up killing each other.

Chapter 1

Present Day

“Oh, my God! Why won’t you leave?” Marybeth demanded, close to crying and not really caring as she pulled the pillow over her head, wondering why he wouldn’t just leave them alone.

“Are you hungry?” Uncle Jared asked from where he sat…

Between them.

On their bed.

At two in the morning.

“I’m hungry,” Uncle Jared muttered and she didn’t need to look up to know that he was pouting.

“Then go home and raid your own fucking kitchen!” Darrin snapped from the other side of the bed, sounding just as aggravated as she was.

Actually, he sounded kind of pissed. Not that she could actually blame him since Uncle Jared had chosen the perfect moment to saunter into their room, unannounced and apparently on a mission. Personally, she was just thankful that he’d chosen to show up after she’d stopped screaming Darrin’s name and begging him to fuck her harder.

“Not until after we have this talk,” Uncle Jared said, sounding determined and letting her know that this night from hell wasn’t going to end anytime soon.