His Woman Read online

  The truth was, I wasn’t sure. Liam had swept me off my feet when I was nineteen, and since then life hadn’t been the same. Our first weeks together had been like a fairytale, but when I’d discovered that we were related, I’d fled without a word, not wanting to taint him with the rumor of incest. He was a powerful man, and a favorite of gossip columns. They’d have a field day if they knew Liam was dating his stepsister.

  Of course, it’d been too late. I was already pregnant with Georgie when I’d left. But secretly, I’d been gloriously happy knowing that I’d have a reminder of my dark, handsome lover for the rest of my life.

  And Georgie was the image of his father. So much so that when Liam had stumbled upon us two years later, he’d immediately recognized himself stamped in Georgie’s features, a paternity that could not be denied.

  And so here we were. The three of us were going to be family now in the eyes of the law. I was overflowing with happiness, so much so that I felt light-headed standing before the minister, my smile a ray of light.

  The issue of incest still bedeviled me though. Liam was a powerful man, and our father was an aspiring politician. Robert Woodson was gearing up for a run for Senate, and how would it look if it got out that his daughter and stepson were lovers? Not just lovers, but married with a son? It could destroy his campaign.

  Plus, I wanted the best for Georgie, and still wasn’t sure how this was going to work out because living in New York was almost not an option. Everyone knew the Woodsons since they were a prominent family. I sighed, trying to clear my head. No matter what, I would always have Liam, and we would stick together through thick and thin.

  The minister cleared his throat and began his sonorous rumblings.

  “Does anyone here know why I should not join this man and woman in marriage today?” he declared.

  Given that it was only Liam, myself, and the wedding photographer, there was blessed silence. The minister started moving onto the next portion of the ceremony when suddenly the door burst open and Sabrina stood at the entryway.

  “Stop!” she shrieked, “She’s a slut!” she exclaimed, pointing at me, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Both Liam and I turned, me trembling and him audibly growling at the interruption.

  “What the fuck?” he roared. Sabrina was a woman he’d dated during our two years apart. Although I’d been celibate, Liam evidently had taken up with a string of women. He’d promised me that it was nothing but sex, and I believed him. After all, he was a man with needs and I could hardly deny his virility.

  But Sabrina was hard to ignore. Gorgeous, five foot eleven, with emerald green eyes and a lithe figure, she’d somehow developed the impression that Liam was going to marry her. He’d assured me that this was delusional on her part. They’d gone out a few times, but there had certainly been no talk of marriage or even anything more serious than the next date.

  I trembled like a leaf before a firestorm. Sabrina strode up to the platform with the piece of paper in her hand and presented it to the justice.

  “See here?” she said. “Alison Johnson is the daughter of Robert Woodson and Lilly Johnson. She can’t get married to Liam because they’re siblings,” she declared.

  The minister frowned. “Is this true?” he asked, scrutinizing the birth certificate.

  I opened my mouth to answer, but my throat was dry and scratchy, unable to make out any words. Liam answered for us both.

  “Yes,” he said darkly. “Technically it’s true …” he trailed off, glaring at Sabrina.

  “Sir,” said the justice. “Then I can’t marry you. In New York, persons known to be related, whether through blood or marriage, cannot be legally married. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to halt this ceremony.”

  I felt dizzy. We’d come so close to legitimizing our union, and yet we’d lost everything … again. Liam and I were never going to be together. I bowed my head, tears pooling in my eyes before spilling down my cheeks. I knew that this was a lost cause, and gave up the fight then and there in my heart.

  16

  Liam

  “Wildflower, listen to me,” I ground out. “It’s not over yet. I’m a powerful man. I can find some way to be together, there’s got to be a way. I just need to give my team some time to do more research.”

  “Liam, stop,” she said softly. “It’s over. We’ve lost. Now we know that we can never be married, and there’s no point in fighting it. I don’t want to live in sin, so we’ve got to be apart, don’t you see? It’s just the way it has to be.”

  I shook my head furiously, but had no reply. I was livid at the way things had gone. I’d actually hustled Wildflower all the way to the altar, only to be foiled by that bitch at the last minute. I rued the day my mother had introduced me to Sabrina. Somehow, the cunt had gotten her hands on a copy of Alison’s birth certificate and totally blown our chance at happiness. Now Wildflower and I could never be married in NYC.

  How she’d gotten that birth certificate was still a mystery to me. I’d questioned my entire staff because I’d figured there’d been a leak in my inner circle. But I wasn’t so sure anymore. My people had been loyal to me for fifteen years, and it was difficult to believe that one of them would sell me out, trashing my opportunity with the one and only woman I’d ever loved. Someone or something more nefarious was involved, and I was determined to find out what.

  In the meantime, I loved Alison and was determined to have her, even if our wedding ceremony had been thwarted today. I lowered my head and demonstrated my love in the best way I knew how. I kissed her where her pulse beat at her throat, the rhythm immediately skyrocketing as my tongue tasted her lovely flesh. My wildflower was so sweet and so responsive to me, even at the nadir of our relationship.

  “Please,” I murmured, “Just give me more time. I want to make it right. That bitch …” I spat. “That bitch,” I continued, controlling myself, “shouldn’t make a difference. Don’t give up so easily,” I pleaded.

  She stroked my hair softly, her fingers running through the thick softness. I took advantage of the moment and captured her mouth for a deep kiss. “Alison,” I groaned. “Don’t give up…”

  “I know,” she breathed into my mouth. “I know …”

  17

  Alison

  My heart pounded as he swept me into a hungry embrace. I let myself sink into his arms, but also knew this would be our last time together. The hurdles had proved too difficult, too heart-wrenching, and after the dramatic entry of Sabrina at our wedding ceremony, I knew that it was best to let Liam go. He belonged to a different echelon of society, with different rules and expectations. The discovery of our illicit relationship meant that my hopes for a quiet beginning were dashed.

  I sighed into his mouth. Even if we could never be together, I wanted our last time to be a gesture of love, something that I could take with me forever. He was so overpowering, sensuous and masculine, that I wanted it to last forever in my memory.

  Sensing my surrender, his arms tightened around me and he pressed his lips against mine, murmuring, “Wildflower, Wildflower.”

  My heart almost broke at the words. I had pined for Liam for so long, and to come so close only to lose him once more made my heart swell and tears pool in my eyes.

  He thought that the tears were for today’s aborted ceremony. They were, but even more, they were tears for a future together which didn’t exist.

  “Hush baby, don’t cry,” he whispered in my ear as his hands stroked my cheek. He kissed my hot lids, softly tracing the wet trail of tears. When his mouth found mine, he was almost desperate, pushing his tongue into my mouth deeply, forcefully, branding me his once again.

  I responded without abandon because I would always be his. I gave myself up to his embrace while returning it one hundred percent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against his chest, and ground my hips against his hardness, feeling him gasp, an immediate hardening against my tummy. He began stripping me, roughly pulling at the zip of my ill
-fated wedding gown, and tearing at the fabric.

  “Goddammit,” he growled. “Fuck this dress,” he panted. “I’m going to get you something even nicer, even fancier for next time.”

  I nodded silently, not daring to answer for fear that my voice would break. There wouldn’t be a next time. I was going to take Georgie and disappear. Where to, I didn’t know yet, but there couldn’t be another next time. My heart couldn’t bear it.

  I returned his kiss ravenously, my hands fumbling at his waist band, undoing the clasp of his tuxedo pants. I tore at his zip, eager to wrap my hands around his hot shaft. Ahh! There it was. His cock was so hard and hot it almost scalded my hand, the flesh rigid yet soft under his velvety skin. I grasped him in my small hands and ran them up and down his pole, causing him to grunt and buck his hips.

  “Ohh,” he moaned in my ear. “More baby,” he groaned.

  I obliged, wanting to remember this last time together. I licked my palm and grasped his shaft tightly, running the flat of my hand up and down before trailing my fingers gently against his hardness, tickling his flesh. I then reached below and squeezed his balls, feeling how full they were, filled with his virility. He moaned into my mouth, his sacs tensing and hardening in my hand as they got ready to shoot. Wanting to prolong his arousal, I let go, instead tracing a fingertip lightly against the seam of his ball sac, trying to memorize every crevice, every curve of my man.

  “Fuck,” he groaned into my mouth. “I have to see you,” he growled.

  With a mighty rip, he tore my dress all the way down the front, baring me to his gaze. I’d worn nothing but the barest strips of lingerie, the ivory lace cupping my breasts and pussy lovingly. He paused momentarily, hungrily staring at my body before lowering his head to sample my tits.

  He suckled voraciously, running his tongue around my areola and nipping softly at the puffy flesh, tracing the pink nub with his lips. Cunningly, he ran his hand up to my breast and began squeezing rhythmically, starting at the base before massaging upwards. Tiny droplets of milk began beading at the tip, and he licked at the creaminess ravenously. He’d only recently discovered that I was still lactating, Georgie being slow to wean, and had delighted in tasting my mother’s milk.

  He pulled hard, the sight of his dark head at my breast causing me to tingle between my legs. Shamefully, I felt a deep wetness begin to run there, and pressed my boobs against him, mewling for more.

  “Baby, we’ll get there,” he soothed against my breast, rhythmically stroking the flesh, coaxing milk from its source. He backed me up until I sat at the edge of the bed and angled himself so that he was kneeling between my legs. With a big fist, he tore my panties off, the lace giving way without hesitation.

  I was now bared before his eyes, nude with rivulets of milk running down the lower curve of each breast. He was immobile before me, his eyes feasting on my body before groaning harshly, “Baby, I need to taste the white in you …” he trailed off.

  I knew what he wanted. I carefully positioned my ass at the edge of the bed and shook my breasts at him, tantalizing him with each jiggle of my jugs. He began squeezing again, causing the milk to gush, streaming down the underside of my breasts, down my tummy, and finally to the crevice between my legs. I reached down and parted my cunt lips, showing him my hot pink as the milk poured through it, the white coating my inner folds with creamy goodness.

  His eyes were glued to my secret space, watching raptly as the white trailed over my clit and between my labia. Unable to resist any longer, he buried his tongue in my twat, lapping up the cream mixed with my pussy juices. He groaned deeply in his chest while burying his tongue in my hole, fucking me, thrusting in and out.

  He lapped and sucked, ravenously eating me, fiddling with my clit while devouring my fleshy folds. I gasped and screamed, twisting underneath him, the stimulation almost too much to bear. I was thoroughly covered in cream now, the white coating my torso, dripping hotly into my cunt as Liam ravished me, no crevice of my cunt secret from him, every ripple and fold explored by his clever tongue.

  Unable to hold back any longer, I gave up to my orgasm, trembling wildly beneath his mouth.

  “Liam!” I cried. “Liam, Liam, Liam!” His name escaped my lips.

  “That’s it baby, keep saying my name,” he panted into my folds, seizing my clit between his lips as my pussy twisted and spasmed beneath him. Wanting to feel my orgasm deeply and fully, he pressed two fingers into me, my cunt greedily clenching and unclenching around him as my cunt juices gushed into his mouth. He continued lapping, murmuring sweet nothings into my pussy, gulping the milk and female fluids as they flowed.

  As I came down from my high, he released my clit and glanced up at me. His mouth and chin were completely covered in my wetness, and he licked his lips, as if savoring my taste. I glanced down at his cock and saw that it was rigid with need, the tip pressed up against his belly button he was so aroused.

  “Baby, are you ready?” he murmured against my lips. I tasted myself, the tang of female arousal mixed with the sweetness of milk.

  “Yes …” I breathed. Without further ado, he nudged my legs further apart and pushed his cockhead against my folds. They parted immediately, welcoming my man home. He thrust all the way in, groaning as my inner channel cushioned him, grasping him tightly in my hot flesh, welcoming the fullness of his invasion. He bumped up against my cervix and I moaned, knowing that he had a massive load ready for me.

  Slowly, he began a deep rhythm, his cock running in and out, the friction against my vaginal walls delicious and erotic. He started gently, but soon was roughly fucking me, his hips pistoning against the softness of my body, his invasion rocking me back and forth.

  “Say you’ll never leave me…” he growled as he fucked me.

  I gasped, almost unconscious from the pleasure coursing through my body. I was barely coherent and answered without thinking.

  “I’ll never leave you …” I breathed. Liam orgasmed at the words, a guttural cry of “Wildflower” escaping his lips as his hips drove home, unleashing a wild spray of sperm into my pussy. I clenched around him, my own climax overtaking me as we coupled, our bodies trembling and shaking, his cock buried deep in me, my pussy hungry for more semen.

  He continued to grind against me as his balls emptied, shooting his life force deep into my womb. Gently, I ran a small hand between us and squeezed his balls, helping him empty into me.

  “Oh Wildflower,” he groaned into my neck, burying his face in my hair as his cock dripped, his big body relaxed on top of mine. He felt so good and so right that I almost cried then and there, knowing that we were destined to part ways.

  “Liam, I love you,” I said gently, looking into his eyes.

  “Wildflower, you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that,” he said roughly. “I know I’ve spoken those words to you, but I’d never heard you say them in return,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I was hoping that after we were married, I could convince you, show you that I love you so much that you’d say them to me.”

  “Oh Liam,” I said, cupping his face in my hands. “I’ve always loved you, I’ve never stopped loving you,” I confided, gazing deeply into his blue eyes. I wanted to remember these eyes for as long as I lived, the way they penetrated my soul.

  “And I’ll never let you go …” he rumbled, his arms drawing me close. My heart did break then because I knew I’d be taking Georgie and leaving the man I loved, starting a new life without him.

  18

  Alison

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, tears pooling in my eyes as I looked down at my son.

  “Mama,” he said, a chubby fist extended towards me, offering me a wildflower he’d picked from the lawn.

  “Thank you baby,” I said softly, taking the blossom from him. He looked so much like his father that I was overcome with emotion again. His big blue eyes were the same shade as Liam’s, the raven hair the same inky black.

  I looked down at my belly. I hadn’t
started to show yet, but there was an unmistakable curve that hadn’t been there four months ago. Just four months ago I’d almost married Liam …

  I shook my head, the memories overwhelming. Our ill-fated wedding was best forgotten. The way we’d been so hopeful, so loving, only to have our future dashed when that bitch Sabrina burst in with my birth certificate, declaring that we were step-siblings. It was true. Liam and I were siblings through marriage, even if not biologically related, and we were prohibited from being legally married in the State of New York. Shamefully, I’d fled after that, taking my boy with me, hoping to escape the mess that was my life.

  But unknowingly, I was pregnant again. Liam was a father for a second time, and the prospect filled me with fear, but also glowing, incandescent joy. If I was to have two reminders of the man I loved, then I would gladly welcome the new addition to my life.

  But right now, the going was tough, even if Georgie didn’t know it yet. I’d brought my son with me to the far reaches of Alaska, hoping that no one could find us here. It was summer still, so the days were still fair and bright, but soon winter would descend and we’d be surrounded by darkness.

  My journey here had been tough. After a plane flight with my squalling son, I’d landed in Anchorage, not sure where to head next. An ad in the paper for short order cooks had directed me to a town called Kilukut, an Eskimo word for Paradise. I’d liked that. It was a Paradise far away where I could raise my son.

  I’d splurged on a cab to take us to the rooming house in Kilukut and offered myself as a cook to the proprietress. The old lady was a sweet thing, with dyed red hair and perceptive eyes. She took in my bawling boy and offered him a glass of milk during our impromptu interview.