Page 63 of Outcast’s Vow

My husband tilts back his head and laughs up freely into the winter sky.

“You know where I stand on love, Highness. Don’t get me started.”

“So, nothing? No passion in your life? No past flame who stole your heart and ran away with it?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no.”

“Just fun, then?”

“Just fun,” he replies. “But I do believe in the royal treatment.”

“What does that mean?” I question.

“Now that you’re my wife, you will never want for anything.”

I tut. He can’t slip away that easily. I need to probe harder.

“I find it hard to believe that you won’t ever touch another woman. Ever.”

“I told you on that island’s beach that I’ll be loyal only to you,” Baptiste replies. “I don’t have a need for other women.”

“You’re insisting really hard, but I still don’t know if I can trust you, Baptiste.”

“You still don’t know?”

“Can you blame me? You talk about these very normal feelings like they’re stupid.”

“And what can I do or say to convince you, wife?”

“I want to know I can trust you, Baptiste.”

My husband glides toward me in the water so that he’s once again towering above me, his body on full display. His thick, long cock hangs beneath the surface of the water. He points at the tattoo inked on his chest.

“Is that security enough for you?” he asks me in a snarl. “I have your name embedded in the flesh right here, directly over my heart. Do you see any other woman’s name there?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“No,” I mutter in repetition, my voice trembling at Baptiste’s command and power.

“Good,” he rumbles. “The royal treatment extends to every part of our life and marriage. Don’t you dare doubt it for even a second.”

“I’m not here to be put into another luxury cage,” I reply quietly. “I’ve already had that all my life.”

“This is not a cage,” my husband says.

“Are you sure?”

“We are a union now. Why do you feel the need to slap another label on it?”

I stay still.

And Baptiste doesn’t move. His erect cock presses against my thigh under the swirl of bubbles.

“You’re bold,” I say, nodding to his girth.

“So were you,” Baptiste replies, “when you stripped down naked for me on our wedding night and forbade me from touching you, knowing full well what that did to me.”