The Reluctant Wife: Chapter 36

The breath whooshes out of me. I can hear the blood banging against my temples. Nervousness grips me. Am I really going to do this? Agree to marry him?

This way, I get to be with him. That’s better than nothing, isn’t it? And perhaps, he might even come to realize that he does love me? He may have not said it aloud, but the way he looked into my eyes when we made love—and it was making love—tells me he does.

He confided in me about his past, which is huge. He’s also been open enough about his expectations when it comes to sex. That he’s dominant is not a surprise. If anything, it increases my anticipation about that part of our relationship. This is the most optimal outcome possible. Now, all I have to do is make him realize that he does love me. My throat burns as I fight back my feelings.

‘Hey, you okay?’ He sits down next to me on the couch.

‘It’s okay if you need to cry.’ He folds his arm about my shoulders. ‘Not that I can stand to see your tears. But if it helps relieve some of the pressure you’ve been under, then by all means, let ’em flow. Lean on me.”

The gentleness in his tone brings a lump to my throat. A pressure knocks at the backs of my eyes.

I slip my arm about his waist and turn my face into his shoulder. And it feels so good. So right. The strength in his body bleeds into mine. My blood heats. The solidness of his chest invites me to sink into him. I draw a breath into my lungs, aware I’m sniffing him and unable to stop myself. He feels so reassuring. So unshakeable. It feeds my own confidence. There’s a whisper of a touch on my head, and I realize he’s pressed his lips to my hair. My heart melts in my chest. My bones feel like they’re turning to mush.

I burrow further into him, enjoying the closeness, feeling his heartbeat echo mine. He wraps his other arm around me, his grasp tightens, and I become aware of how I’m plastered to him. How my breasts are flattened against his chest. How his muscles are rigid, and his biceps feel like they’re made of granite. He seems to have turned to stone. And when I lower my hand to his crotch, I gasp. The thick column tenting the fabric is hot and vital, and bigger than I remember. I’m so turned on, I’m panting. My body feels like it’s about to self-combust.

‘What are you doing?’ he rumbles.

‘We should seal the deal, don’t you think?’

His body stills. Except for the rise and fall of his chest, he’s completely still. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?” His voice is a deep, dark vibration in his chest that curls around my nipples and pinches my nerve-endings, making my clit throb.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Instantly, he releases me, only to wrap my hair around his hand and tug. I gasp. My head falls back. Pinpricks of pain radiate out from my scalp and arrow to my pussy. My clit throbs; my pussy lips seem to engorge. I’m held immobile by his grip, my throat bared to him in a gesture of submission.

“Say it aloud so I can hear you properly,” he orders. The command in his voice sends a delicious spiral of want to my core.

“Yes.” I tip up my chin. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Good girl,” he rumbles.

A whimper escapes me. And when he bends and drags his nose up the column of my neck, I shudder.

‘Let’s get one thing clear; you don’t give the orders. Understand?”

I nod.

‘Out there, you might be the Princess of Verenza, but when it’s just the two of us, I’m your Master.’

The confidence in his voice is an aphrodisiac that turns my pussy into a melting mess.

‘You’re mine to do with as I want. Mine to punish if you disobey. Mine to reward when I decide you’ve earned it. Understand?’

The dominance in his words lights a million fires in my body. I’m burning up. My breath coming in short quick pants.

‘Say it.’ He yanks on my hair.

I yelp, more in surprise than in pain. ‘Yesss,’ I hiss. ‘Yes.’

In response, he bites down on the side of my throat. It’s a gesture of ownership. And possession. And control. And so hot.

“Anyone could walk in on us, but I know the thought of that is only going to add to your arousal,” he growls.

A shiver ripples up my body. The flames in my belly seem to leap up to my chest. He must sense how turned on I am for he leans back and stares into my features. “You’re my lusty little plaything aren’t you, Empress?’

I nod. Him calling me his plaything should definitely not ramp up the need in my body, either.

He kisses the very place on my skin where he bit me, and a low moan bleeds from my lips.

He places his other hand over where mine is wrapped around his length through the crotch of his pants. And when he squeezes down, his shaft seems to thicken and fill my palm. He swipes my palm over the steel pillar, and my nipples tighten. My thighs quiver. He drags his nose up the exposed column of my throat, and I shudder. My chest rises and falls. I squirm around, trying to get closer, and he laughs.

The sound vibrates through his chest and sinks into my blood. It ripples across my skin and turns my knees into jelly.

He continues to drag my hand over his swollen shaft and pins me in place with the hold on my hair. The fact that he’s able to control my movements with such little effort ratchets up my need. I try to turn my head to look at him, but he clicks his tongue. ‘Patience.’

I huff.

It draws another chuckle from him. The gravelly, very masculine sound slides down my spine and settles between my legs. Everything he does seems designed to increase my arousal to fever pitch. I wriggle in place, trying to inch closer, but his hold on my hair tightens. Pinpricks of fire skitter across my scalp, and that turns me on even more. My toes curl, and my clit throbs. I swear, I’m going to come just from the anticipation.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ he whispers into my ear, as if he can read my mind. Then, he curls his tongue around the shell of my ear.

I groan. ‘Oh god.’

‘He has nothing to do with it.’ Ryot licks his tongue into my ear, and the pleasure is so intense, my eyes roll back in my head. Who knew these places of my body would be so erogenous? Under my hand, his length grows even bigger. My mouth begins to water. He feels so thick. So full.

The need within digs its claws into me and twists. ‘I want you inside of me,’ I whimper.

‘Not yet.’ He grabs a cushion from the couch and drops it on the floor between his feet. Then, with his hold on my hair, he urges me onto it on my knees. He holds my hair back from my face with one hand and nods at his groin. ‘Show me how much you want it.’

I scowl up at him. Seriously?

‘Or are you too inexperienced to give a blowjob?’

I scoff.

He laughs.

That sounds like a challenge. I’ll bet he knows I’ll never shy away from one. I reach over and lower the zipper of his pants.

He lifts his hips enough for me pull down his trousers and his boxers. His cock springs free. Fully erect, he’s thicker and longer than I recall. As I stare at him, he seems to grow even bigger.

A vein runs up the underside, and the head is almost purple, with a drop of precum clinging to it. I bend my head and lick it up. A shudder grips him. Hmm. That’s interesting. I drag my tongue down the throbbing length and up again. This time, a groan is torn from him. I look up to find he’s watching me with green eyes that have turned almost golden with lust. His lips are parted, his eyelids hooded. Holding his gaze, I close my mouth around him.

‘Fuck,’ he swears. The way his hips surge forward, I know I have him. He’s so big, I have to open my mouth really wide to take him inside. His hold on my hair tightens another fraction, enough for my scalp to tingle and for goosebumps to pop on my forearms. He spreads his legs wider, and I lean in. I take him further inside my mouth, and his gaze narrows. Silver sparks dot those greenish-gold eyes of his. He’s so turned on, the lust radiating from him in waves lassoes around me, and I still. For a few seconds, we watch each other, then he guides me forward. His touch is firm, no hesitation whatsoever, and when his dick slips down my tongue and hits the back of my throat, I choke. Spit drips down my chin, and tears squeeze out from the corners of my eye.

‘Breathe through your nose,’ he orders.

I draw in a breath, and the burning sensation in my throat begins to fade. He pulls on my hair, easing my head back until his cock slips out to balance on my lips.

‘You okay?’ He scans my features.

I nod, grateful for his concern. He wants to be in charge, but not at the cost of my comfort. Which is why he also made sure to cushion my knees. The combination of caring and dominance is exhilarating. It’s reassuring he’s in charge. It’s arousing that he’s monitoring my response and adjusting his demands accordingly. To be at the cynosure of his attention is exhilarating.

He continues to watch me. He must see something which reassures him, for he nods. He eases me forward, and this time, when his dick slips down my throat, I swallow.

‘You’re so tight, baby.’ His shoulders swell. He manipulates me with his hold on my hair and begins to fuck my mouth. Each time he moves me forward, his shaft dips down my throat, and he eases me back until he’s balanced on the tip of my tongue. He watches my mouth as if fascinated by how his cock disappears inside of it. ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he says through gritted teeth.

Considering the strings of spit dripping from the corners of my mouth, I’m not so sure, but I’m also not in a position to comment, considering my mouth is full of his cock. His movements increase, and I hold onto his thighs for support. He’s using me for his pleasure. He’s reduced me to a hole that he’s decided to use at his will, and it should make me feel cheap. It should make me feel like I’m nothing more than a fuck toy—and the fact that I do feel that way is also strangely arousing.

My pussy is dripping, my panties soaked, and my nipples are so hard they hurt. Every part of me is focused on where we’re connected. The dark taste of him, the spicy scent of him mixed with the musky scent of his arousal, the very male thickness of him filling my mouth and pressing against the walls of my throat. My stomach trembles; my thighs have turned into cords of yearning. The hollow between my legs gapes.

I’m so empty, and the contrast with the fullness of him in my mouth drives me a little crazy. Frustration grips me. I dig my fingernails into his thighs. But his muscles are like rock, and they hardly make a dent. Still, he must notice, for he raises his gaze to mine. His movements speed up. He stuffs his dick into my mouth over and over. And oh god, I can feel the tug of my climax as it squeezes out from my center and up my spine. That’s when he pulls out completely.