Lucian walks through the festival, eyeing the red, white, and blue streamers with disgust. He mouths to himself as he inspects a corn dog, “What the fuck is this?”
Daisy’s fingernails dig into my thigh.
“Relax, love. He’s not going to do anything while I’m here.”
Bile rises in my throat as I watch my brother loading up a plastic plate with this and that. He grabs one of the serving forks and puts a heap of kale to his food. Lucian’s malevolent gaze locks with mine.
Don’t come over here, you cunt.
He smiles and makes a beeline for us. “Thanks for the lovely invitation to your party.”
“Actually, we didn’t invite you,” I tell him.
“I couldn’t miss the celebration of our father’s death. Tell me something, brother. How sick are you?”
Daisy cringes at the venom in his voice.
“Do any of the guests look like they’re still crying over dear old Dad? No. That’s because he was a fucking cunt.”
“This is completely fucked up,” Lucian says. “And what the hell is playing on that stereo?”
“Rihanna,” Daisy mumbles.
“Look, I can have you thrown in a cell for the rest of your life, or you can sit down, shut up, and eat your kale crisp—chips.”
He tosses the plate on the table and sits down. He throws me a glare, stabbing the mound of cooked kale, and pops it in his mouth. Within seconds, his face turns into a mask of disgust, and he spits out the food.
“Disgusting! Who eats this rubbish?”
“Everyone seems to love it.” Daisy stabs moodily at her potato salad.
“It’s ghastly.”
My wife glares at him. “Why the hell did you bring me to Scotland?”
I grab her arm. “Not here.”
Lucian gives her a shit-eating grin as he bites into his corn dog. “I wanted to get rid of you, that’s all. You should have done the smart thing and returned to America. You will never fit in here.” He looks around at the festivities and gives a scornful laugh.
Daisy drops her fork and studies the sea of guests as if searching for unhappy faces. She wraps her hand around her can of Coke, and the aluminum sides buckle under the pressure of her fingers.
I stand up, grabbing Lucian’s plate of ribs, and I dump it in his lap.
“What the fuck was that for?” he screams at me.
“For insulting my wife, dickhead.”
“‘Dickhead’?”
I offer my hand to Daisy, who takes it with a smirk and stands, throwing a derisive look over her shoulder as she walks with me.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t question. Just obey your prince.”
She lets out a laugh that’s like chimes in the wind. We walk past the baseball diamond, where a harassed man wearing an umpire’s armor tries to teach the children how to swing a baseball bat. I watch Daisy smile at them, noticing how she keeps her head high and her shoulders back automatically now. It’s as though she was really made for me.
As soon as we’ve cleared the lawn and wandered into the forest, I wrap my arm around her waist as the curve of her ass molds against my cock. She makes a little movement that excites me, and I wrap my second arm around her, stilling her body.
“It’s been far too long since I claimed my rights.”
“Are you quoting Game of Thrones again?”
She turns around in my arms, her tits flattening against my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck. It hits me quite suddenly how breathtakingly beautiful she is. Her normally striking eyes are a bit subdued in the shadows, the light makeup around her eyes softening them. Her lips are red with a tinge of purple. I have to keep reminding myself I’m married to this woman.
“Thank you.”
“It’s not over yet.”
I rip off my jacket, letting her go to spread it over the forest floor. She takes one look at it and shakes her head.
“No.”
“It’ll be fun.”
“No way! They’re right there.”
“That’s what makes it really hot.” My voice cracks like a whip. “Daisy. Get down. I’m not going to ask you twice.”
She rolls her eyes and kneels, but I can tell from the way her t-shirt jumps with her heartbeat that she wants it too.
“We are here to celebrate America’s independence from Great Britain. To honor this historical day, I have decided to fill my wife’s American pussy with cum. My cum, of course.”
“Would you shut up?” she hisses.
I think I’m addicted to the way that bright red blush spreads over her pale cheeks. She falls back onto the jacket as I grab the waistband of