Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
“Is he--?” the officiant mumbles, utterly surprised.
“He’s taking our little girl!” Amity cries, clinging to my dad’s arm. “Andrew, do something! They’re having sex right here in the open!”
“What do you want me to do?” my dad shrugs. “This is what a man does with his wife. My only hope is that any child they conceive is better looking than the child we conceived so long ago.”
That does it. Even on my wedding day, my parents are terrible people who have never hidden their disgust at my existence. Suddenly, I know that Drake is my future. This man was put on earth to save me from my horrific home situation, and there’s no sense in saying no. If anything, I have to say yes because I’m already in love with the burly brute.
“Say yes,” he hisses again, pumping deep into my depths as fleshy slapping sounds fill the small room. “Or help me god, Straw, I will fuck you for as long as it takes, right here in front of everyone.”
The wave in my belly crests then as I cling to his broad shoulders. I’ve never felt so complete nor so at peace with a decision, and I throw my head back while riding his two massive cocks.
“Yes, YES!” I scream, my red tresses swinging to and fro with the vigor of his motions. “I will marry you, Drake Richardson! I will be your wife!”
The words force my handsome fiancé over the edge. He growls while holding my torso tight in his arms, and fucks up a couple more times, giving me a few more deep pounds in my pussy and ass. Then, he lets out a roar as his double cocks pulse and shoot, filling me full of salty sperm.
“YES!” he shouts. “That’s my Strawberry. I love you, Straw. Fuck, yes.”
I scream too, savoring the act of his possession. “I love you too, Drake,” I sob into his bronzed neck. “Yes, yes, yes. Always and forever, my answer is yes.”
We soar and climax, hitting our peaks together. Stars burst before my eyes as my body clenches and releases, spasming around the deep rods buried inside. I moan and cry, sobbing into Drake’s shoulder because I never thought it would end like this. I never imagined that I’d meet a man with two cocks who would take me to heaven … and beyond.
“I take it that was your ‘I do,’ Mr. Richardson?” the officiant asks in a dry tone.
I’m still too shaken to hear his words, much less comprehend what the officiant is saying. But Drake’s breathing has slowed, and he looks deep into my eyes as our foreheads lean against each other.
“That was my ‘I do,’” he confirms. “I do take you, Amy Celestine Ryan, as my lawfully wedded wife. From now on, you’ll be known as Amy Richardson.”
I smile at the handsome brute with tears in my eyes, even as his slippery seed trails from my folds. After all, life is unexpected, and my life particularly so. I never thought I’d stumble upon an island filled with handsome, double-dicked men, much less get married to one of those fine specimens. But Drake Richardson married me, and now our future is written in the stars.
EPILOGUE
Amy
“So how often do you use the special potion?” I ask my husband, admiring the four-carat ring on my finger. Drake insisted on buying me an engagement ring, although I was somewhat meh about the issue. I’ve never been particularly hung up on material things, and I don’t need a piece of jewelry to solidify my commitment to a man. But my husband is very traditional in some ways. He insisted on picking out a big sparkler from Tiffany’s, and not only that, but we have matching wedding bands too.
It’s funny. I never thought that I’d need to see a silver band on my husband’s hand, but knowing that it’s Drake’s hand, and that he belongs to me, fills me with satisfaction. I love proclaiming to the world that this huge beast is taken, and that he’s mine. I love people glancing at our matching rings and knowing immediately that we’re a couple.
After all, we were never meant to be. Arranged marriage or not, Drake and I were two people shooting through space, with no intention of making this a real marriage in any way, shape, or form. But somehow, we met, collided, and sparks flew. Now, I live in Drake’s mansion right outside St. George. It’s a gorgeous house, with easy access to Lake Erie, and even better, just a short drive from the secret island of Deux.
“So tell me more about the mysterious potion that the men of Deux use,” I ask my husband. “Where does it come from again?”
“It’s made from plants local to the isle,” he growls, taking my hand in his. “You drank some of the spice, which is why you can’t remember anything after the sacrificial ceremony. I gave you just a few sips, and it blanked out some, but not all, of your memory.”