Page 133 of Captive Ruin

No, it’s not too early. I know her enough already. There’s so much to love, and I do love her. The realization hits softly, a recognition of something that’s been building since that first night. Comfortable contentment eases my shoulders, and my rhythm falters for one unguarded second of wonder.

What is this, happiness? It’s been absent for… too long.

No wonder my smiles are coming more easily.

I’m fleetingly tempted to tell her, but I don’t. I know my Little Stray well enough that she won’t believe such a declaration, especially with my cock buried to the hilt inside her body.

“I love… watching you come for me,” I whisper to her instead, and grind against her. Her hips squirm, her eyes falling closed, and her body goes taut. I lean in, kissing her through her orgasm, and she sobs into my mouth, tongue as eager as it’s ever been.

“Six,” I say, drawing out the word in satisfaction.

“I think it’s… nine,” she breathes. “Or ten. Or a hundred.”

“You’re making me jealous.”

“Suck it up, you bastard.” She moans, pussy rippling around me. “It’s… too much.”

“No, it’s not,” I say through the effort of moving within her. “You’re going to come for me again and again.”

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails pricking my skin. “What if I can’t?”

I lean down and kiss her, then lick away the tears seeping through her clenched eyes, the salt sharp on my tongue. “What if I don’t give you a choice?”

She shudders beneath me, crying out, coming immediately. I don’t know if it was the kiss or my words. She’s gripping me so tight I have to brace my arms and put real work in, and she’s milking my cock, drawing my own orgasm sooner than I wanted.

But that’s fine. We have all day, and I want her full of my cum in every hole, so that she knows who her husband is.

I wonder how far her obedience will go when I tell her to turn over and pour oil onto her ass, and the thought is enough to push me over the edge. I release inside her with a shuddering breath, and she cries out as she feels it. I’m certain she came again, and we’ve both lost count.

It doesn’t matter. All that matters is my seed filling her, marking her as mine, and the way she writhes beneath me, welcoming every drop.

Tomorrow, I’m going away, and I haven’t even told her yet. But I must ensure the Volkovs stay the fuck away from me and mine.

I push the thought aside, leaning down to kiss her and she rises to meet me, arms snaking around my neck, pulling me closer as her mouth opens, and as our tongues collide, I’m not sure which one of us is moaning. Both, probably.

That’s how it should be between us.

Thirty-One

Amelia

He said he wasn’t going to abandon me, but when I wake up the next morning, I’m alone.

The bed is cold where he lay, even though his scent lingers, mocking me.

Last night, he told me he would need to leave for work. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Maybe he’s still here, somewhere. Having breakfast, perhaps. But I know he isn’t. If he was, we’d be eating it in here.

My body is sore… everywhere. The sheets are sticky, and so are my thighs. I pull myself up and go for a shower.

It feels like I’ve lost part of myself, and that’s incomprehensible. I hardly know this man who is now my husband, so why am I missing him? He didn’t give me a choice. This was supposed to be merely a marriage of convenience.

So why do I care?

As I stand under the hot water, the answer comes to me, and I don’t much like it. I care, because I can’t do things by halves. I care, because I said yes—or I didn’t, but then I did—and now it’s a commitment.

And I don’t even know if he feels the same way.