Page 76 of Jetmir

“Mine.” He thrust deep into me, rocking my world. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.”

He fucked me like a madman. He drove inside me with such power, I feared I’d drown in him.

“Oh… Thorne…” I screamed. It was always intense when he fucked me, but this took the cake.

“That’s right,” he grunted, pistoning his hips. “Call for me.”

“Thorne…” I moaned, holding on to him like he was my rock in this hurricane when really, he was the eye of the storm. “More… I need… more.”

He gave me exactly what I needed and I took it.

“My angel,” he grunted, sliding his hand up and applying pressure on my neck, kissing the outline of my jaw. “My good wife.”

I tilted my chin up, offering him more skin, and he bit my throat so hard that I gasped.

“You and me… Forever, wife. Nobody will take you away.” He thrust in and out of me, and I feared when this was over, I wouldn’t be able to walk straight. “Not your family. Fucking nobody. I’ll never let you go.”

“But you hurt my brother,” I sobbed while the pressure in my core built and built. Tears stained my face as he drove deep, hitting my sensitive spot over and over again.

His tongue darted out and he licked my tears as he whispered, “I’ll fix it.”

He continued to own every inch of me as he murmured his praise, switching over to Russian or Albanian… or maybe it was even Spanish—I was too far gone to make sense of his words. All I could feel was him. All I could breathe was him.

He pulled my hair and nipped at the spot where my neck and collarbone met, and the most powerful orgasm washed over me. It went on for what felt like eternity, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. My husband fucked me through it, drawing out his own pleasure.

My inner muscles strangled him and he stiffened, finally spilling inside me. By the time we both came down from the high, I was a limp, languid mess. My ears still rang from the intensity of that release, and I felt thoroughly claimed.

He possessed me. Owned me. Destroyed me.

“Mine,” he growled against my lips as he devoured them again, dragging his teeth over my bottom lip and fucking my mouth with his tongue.

I hated that I caved so easily. I hated myself for wanting this man. I hated myself for still loving him.

Sooner or later, this love would destroy us. I could only pray that we didn’t take another member of our family down with us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

JETMIR

Anya didn’t say a word as I lifted her from the ground. She remained limp in my arms, her head coming to rest against my shoulder.

There were so many things I wanted to say to her.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’d give anything to make this right. If it meant giving your brother the corneas from my own eyes, I’d do it without hesitation. Just… come back to me. Stay with me.

But every apology, every promise, every desperate plea caught somewhere between my heart and my throat.

In the end, not a single word escaped.

The silence in the villa only made those thoughts louder as my feet echoed against the marble floor. It was weird as fuck that we were both naked, but thankfully there were no witnesses since nobody lived on the island. That was by design.

First, I didn’t trust anyone—except for Elira—to stay with us here. Second, I wanted us to be alone while we worked through the speedbumps of our marriage and reconciliation.

Someone might call me delusional. I preferred determined.

It was due to my sheer determination that I successfully maneuvered handcuffs and pulled them off my wrists. Of course, they hurt like shit, but adrenaline as I ran after Anya numbed the pain. If I would have had to break my own wrists to uncuff myself, I totally would have.

I’d crawl on my broken knees and broken hands to get to my wife.