Deadly Oath

27. Sabrina

27

SAbrINA

T he house is dark when we walk in. Kian opens the door as I brush past him in my wedding dress. My heart is beating hard, a steady tempo, as I walk to the bedroom, feeling him behind me. The anticipation builds, twisting my stomach into knots as I walk into my room and turn on the light, bathing it in a soft golden glow.

I turn to look at Kian, and his expression is contemplative. “What are you thinking?” I ask softly, as his gaze slides over me, taking in every inch with a lustful slowness that makes my knees feel weak.

He takes a step closer, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the end of the bed, undoing his cufflinks with precise movements as he watches me, making me wait for the answer. It’s only when his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, baring his muscled, inked forearms, that he speaks again.

“I’m considering whether I want my wife in her wedding dress or out of it before I put her on her knees for me.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my chest tightening. I don’t know what, exactly, I had expected out of tonight. Romance, at first—I had imagined that tonight might be the first time Kian was gentle with me, the first time we might do something approaching making love, instead of the rough, lustful coupling that we’ve shared before. And then, when he told me after the ceremony that he planned to defile me, I didn’t know what I should expect.

This doesn’t feel like love, but the lust in his eyes, the blatant desire to possess me, might. My pulse is fluttering in my throat, desire racing across my skin, and even if this wasn’t what I had thought tonight would be, I want it all the same.

Kian reaches out, his hand wrapping in my hair, his thumb brushing against the nape of my neck. “On your knees, princess,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down around the back of my neck so that he’s urging me down onto my knees.

Something in me wants to resist, although there’s no reason why I should. A part of me that wants to defy anyone claiming authority over me, possession, maybe. But I was never rebellious before. There’s something about what Kian sparks in me, some feeling that I should fight back, but I drop to my knees all the same, my wedding dress pooling out around me as I kneel in front of him.

Kian’s hand threads through my hair, holding me in place as he looks down at me. “Take my cock out,” he orders, one hand loosely by his side. “Now, wife .”

Something about the way he says it sends a fresh, sharp jolt of desire down my spine. I suck in a breath, lifting my hands to do as he’s ordered me to, undoing the buckle of his belt and reaching for his zipper. I feel the hard weight of his cock behind it, pressing into my palm as I undo the front of his pants, sliding my hand in to wrap it around the hot, straining flesh.

Kian sucks in a breath as my fingers brush his length, his hand tightening in my hair. “Open your mouth,” he says huskily, and I feel him throb in my hand as I obey, running my tongue over my lower lip. He groans, hips twitching as he looks down at me.

“You look so perfect like that,” he murmurs. “On your knees, mouth open for my cock. All in white like an innocent virgin, but you’re a filthy slut, aren’t you? My filthy slut.”

The words burn through me, degrading and arousing all at once, and I nod, his stiff cock an inch from my mouth. I can see the pre- cum pearling at the tip, feel the veins pulsing against my hand, feel his tension and his lust.

“Suck it, princess,” Kian commands, his voice a rasping growl. “I want to see those pretty lips around my cock. I want to feel your throat around me.”

I lean forward, brushing my lips against the head as I flick my tongue out over the swollen flesh. Kian groans as I slide my tongue over the tip, the salty taste of his pre-cum filling my mouth as I tease the soft flesh just underneath, slowly sliding my lips over his cockhead so that the first inch is in my mouth.

Kian’s hand fists in my hair, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at me. “No teasing, princess,” he warns. “Show me how well you can suck me.”

There’s something like a threat in his voice, but that only turns me on more. I can feel how wet I am as I slide my lips down his length, soaking through the lace of my panties, my inner thighs sticky as I try to fit as much of him as I can in my mouth. He’s almost too big, my lips stretching around him as I slide him over my tongue, and I choke as his cockhead slips into my throat.

Kian lets out a hiss of pleasure, his nails digging into my scalp as I struggle to take him deeper. “Keep going, princess,” he growls. “Take it all, or I’ll force it down your throat.”

I feel like I can’t breathe, trapped by the hard thickness in my mouth and his hand in my hair, panic coiling in my stomach, but the fear mingles with desire until all I feel is a hot, throbbing pulse, an ache for some pleasure of my own. One of my hands is braced against his thigh, as he starts to push himself deeper, but the other starts to pull up the edge of my wedding dress, wanting to find its way beneath it.

Kian chuckles, a dark, lustful sound. “You want to play with your clit while you suck me, princess? I’ll allow it. But take every inch, or I’ll tie you up and come in your mouth again and again until you’re drowning in my cum and begging me to give you an orgasm. And I won’t,” he threatens. “I’ll make you swallow my cum until I’m spent and leave you aching until the morning. ”

I don’t know if he would actually do it, but I think he might. And even the thought of that makes me moan around his cock, a small part of my mind wondering why this turns me on even as I force him deeper into my throat, gagging on his width as I reach under my skirt and slide my fingers into my panties.

I’m fucking drenched. So wet that my fingers slip against my outer flesh, my panties wet all the way through, and I push two fingers between my swollen folds, eagerly finding my clit as Kian tightens his grip on my hair, his other hand gripping my chin and holding my mouth open as he starts to thrust.

I thought he fucked my face before, but it was nothing compared to this. He fucks my face as if he’s fucking my pussy, driving his cock to the back of my throat again and again, until I’m choking and my mascara is running, tears dripping down my cheeks. And all the while, my fingers are sliding against my clit, frantically rubbing, pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm that I’m desperate for. I can feel it winding tight in the pit of my stomach, feel the muscles of my inner thighs tensing, and as Kian drives himself into my throat once more and then pulls himself free, I know what’s about to happen.

My orgasm hits just as he spurts cum over my face, hot bursts of it coating my tongue and lips and cheeks, hitting my forehead and chin and dripping onto my cleavage. I moan, my mouth opening wider as my hips buck upwards into my hand, my pussy clenching with the need for something to fill me as I come hard while Kian sprays my face with his cum.

“You filthy whore,” he growls, shoving his cock between my lips as he thrusts over my tongue, the last drops of it spilling into my mouth. “Look at you. A filthy bride with my cum all over her face. Get up.”

He snarls it at me, and for a moment, it feels too real. I freeze, my fingers still pressed to my clit, my mind foggy and dizzy with the shudders of pleasure still rippling through me. Suddenly, this doesn’t feel like a game.

But it is. He’s playing out a fantasy, just like every other night. Ruining his beautiful bride with his cock and his cum, making me his, wrecking me as he fucks me into oblivion. And I like it. I came harder than I think I ever have before, just with my fingers, from the degradation of him coming all over my face. And the night is only just beginning.

I have no doubt that Kian will get hard for me again. Maybe more than once. And that thought sends heat blooming through me, making me moan as he looks down at me with that strange look of triumph on his face once again.

“Get up ,” he growls, his hand on my chin urging me up to my feet. “I want to strip my pretty wife naked so I can fuck another one of her holes.”

I’m trembling as I get to my feet, confusion and desire making my knees feel weak, the rational part of my mind warring with the part that is horribly, inexplicably turned on by this.

“Turn around,” Kian orders, and I realize he hasn’t kissed me since we walked into this room. He won’t now, I imagine, not with his cum streaked over my lips. And I don’t think he’s going to clean me up, this time.

Slowly, I turn around, my fingers tangling in the skirt of my dress as I feel Kian’s hands go to the buttons at the back. He undoes them, one by one, tugging sharply at each button as if they’ve been put there specifically to slow him down. I’m half afraid he might rip the dress, but he undoes them all, until I feel his fingers reach for the zipper at the top that the buttons cover, and he begins to drag it down.

It’s not as if this is the first time I’ve been naked with Kian. It’s not even as if this is the first time we’ve played out these kinds of rough, degrading fantasies. But somehow, this feels different. I don’t know if it’s the ring on my finger and the vows we exchanged today, or if it’s the way he’s behaving tonight, with a dark, possessive edge to him that’s even more intense than any other night we’ve spent together. But it feels as if he’s stripping me bare for the first time, as if his fingertips sliding down the base of my spine as he drags the zipper down is something new, uncharted.

“So perfect,” Kian murmurs, his hands smoothing over my back as he starts to push the dress open. One fingertip touches the lace band of the bralette I chose to go under the dress. “I see you picked out something special for tonight, princess.”

“It’s our wedding night.” I resist the urge to turn and look at him, since he hasn’t told me to yet. I have a strange feeling that tonight, of all nights, I should obey his instructions. “I wanted it to feel special.”

“It is.” He slides the straps of my dress down my arms, and I shiver at the feel of his roughened palms against my skin. “I’ve been waiting for this night for what feels like a very long time, Sabrina.”

A shiver runs through me, thinking of that—that even as brief a time as we’ve known each other, he’s wanted me so badly that it’s felt like ages to him. It makes me glad that even if I ended up in a marriage of convenience after all, it’s with this man. Someone who wants me badly enough that he was willing to do this to protect me.

The dress slips down, over my breasts to catch around my waist, and Kian’s hands go to my hips, pushing the skirt down so that it all puddles on the floor around my feet, a pool of lace and silk and tulle. His fingers graze over the edge of the lace panties, and I hear his softly indrawn breath.

“Get on the bed, princess,” he growls, turning me so that I’m facing it. “Lie down on your back.”

I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as I walk to the bed. Every sensation feels enhanced, from the scratch of my duvet against my knees as I climb onto the mattress to the cool silkiness of the pillows against the back of my neck when I lie down. I look over at Kian, and his eyes drift over me, taking in every last detail as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

My stomach tightens as I watch him. I’ve never seen a man as gorgeous as he is, every inch of him sculpted with muscle, inked with the tattoos that swirl over his skin. My breath catches as I watch him undo the shirt button by button, and I see a smirk curl the edges of his lips, telling me that he knows exactly how much I’m enjoying the show.

“Like what you see, princess?” he murmurs, amusement in his voice, and I nod, biting my lip .

His shirt falls to the floor, and he pushes his suit trousers and boxer briefs down with one smooth movement, his cock stiffening as he moves toward the bed. I feel a flush of pleasure, of satisfaction, knowing I can get him hard again so quickly. It’s that same feeling of power that I felt the first time he kissed me in the gym, that knowledge that I have something Kian wants, and that if I tried, there might be no end to the things he would do for me in order to have it.

He moves onto the bed, kneeling between my legs, and I shudder as he runs his hands up my calves, my inner thighs, spreading my legs apart as he looks at me with a renewed hunger that tells me exactly what he wants.

“You were a good girl for me, on your knees,” he murmurs. “So I think you deserve a reward.” His fingers climb up my thighs, nearer and nearer to where I’m aching for him, until they graze over the soaked lace fabric of my panties.

“Oh, you’re drenched for me,” he murmurs, his voice raw and husky as he curls his fingers into the lace. “So fucking wet.”

His fingers tighten around the fabric—and then he rips it.

I let out a startled squeal of surprise as he tears the panties open, pushing the fabric to either side as he leans in to ghost a warm breath over my damp skin. I gasp, desire shuddering over me as he slides his tongue over my pussy in one long, hot lick that leaves me trembling underneath him, his tongue curling up to flutter over my clit as I cry out.

I’m already so close to the edge again, even though I just came. My fingers are nothing compared to his tongue, warm and wet and fluttering, stroking in all the right places as I squirm underneath him, my hips bucking against his tongue. I arch up into his mouth, grinding shamelessly against his face as he laps and sucks, driving me closer and closer to a second orgasm, and Kian reaches up, letting go of the fabric as he clamps his hands around my wrists and pins them to the bed.

That tips me over the edge. I come hard, shrieking his name as Kian sucks my clit into his mouth, fluttering his tongue over it as his fingers dig into my wrists, and he holds me there, writhing beneath him as the orgasm washes over me.

He lets go instantly, rising up over me as he wraps a hand around his thick, rigid shaft and leans over me, angling himself so that the swollen tip is pressed against my still-clenching entrance. He holds himself there, his gaze catching mine, dark and hot and hungry, before he thrusts.

The force of it briefly steals my breath, the shock of him filling me as overwhelming as it has been every time before. He’s so thick, almost too big, and a gasping moan escapes me as he thrusts again, his gaze holding mine as he draws out to the tip and slams back inside of me.

He reaches down, grabbing my wrists and lifting them above my head, pinning them to the pillow as his hips rock against mine. “ God , you feel so fucking good,” he growls, his face taut with lust. My legs wrap around his, my body arching to get closer, every slide of him inside of me sending shocks of pleasure rippling through my body. It feels primal, forceful, and it ignites that same strange desire in me that it always has. I never thought I would want this—but even tonight, when I had expected something different from him, I’m not disappointed.

Not in the slightest.

His fingers curl tighter around my wrists, his groan ending on a growl of pleasure as he thrusts into me again, drawing out more slowly this time, making sure I feel every inch as he pulls out of me and then drives home.

My back arches, my mouth opening on a cry of pleasure, and I buck underneath him, feeling my orgasm start to build again. I don’t know if I’ll manage to get there a third time, but it feels so good that I almost don’t care. I just don’t want him to stop.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Kian murmurs huskily, a thread of amusement in his voice, and I realize that I spoke out loud. “We’ve got all night. And that wasn’t the last time I plan on making you come for me.”

Desire prickles over my skin at the promise I hear in his voice. My fingers close around his, every part of me fighting to be closer to him as he slides into me, again and again, that pleasure building until I wonder how much more of this I can take before I shatter. It’s so close to getting me there, but not quite—almost as if he’s intentionally making me hold off, wanting me to beg. Wanting me to plead for my orgasm.

If that’s what he wants, I’m willing to give it to him.

“Kian—” I moan his name as he thrusts again, shuddering above me. “Kian, please, I’m so close?—”

“I know, princess,” he growls, his hips grinding against mine as he thrusts again, sliding as deeply into me as he can go. “I’ll make you come again. I?—”

He groans, jaw tightening as his fingers flex around my wrists, and I can feel him throb inside of me. I can feel him harden, feel his hips snap once more, and I moan helplessly, half in pleasure and half in frustration, as I feel the first hot spurt of his cum inside of me.

Kian shudders, another moan spilling from his lips, his head hanging down as he rocks against me, his entire body trembling with the force of his orgasm. “Fuck—that’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck ?—”

I’m trembling, too, caught between his hands and the thick cock impaling me, filling me with his cum, hovering on the knife’s edge of my own orgasm as I feel him thrust once more, another shudder rippling down his spine as he groans aloud. “God, you feel fucking incredible,” he murmurs, thrusting shallowly. “So fucking tight?—”

He slides out, letting go of my wrists, and I let out a whimper of frustration. I’m so close, my body throbbing with it, aching with the need to come, and I think Kian sees the frustration in my face. His mouth twitches, amusement filling his eyes as he rocks back onto his knees between my legs, looking down at me. I’m breathless, hips still arching up, and his gaze drops between my thighs, where I know his cum has begun to drip out of me.

“I told you I’d make you come again,” he murmurs, and his hand slides up my leg, two of his fingers dipping between my folds. “After all, I need something to do while I get hard again, rabbit.” That smirk deepens as I gasp, arching into his hand as he curls his fingers, collecting the dripping cum and pushing it back into me.

“What—” I blink up at him, half-dazed with lust, and Kian laughs, dark and hoarse.

“You still have one more hole for me to fuck tonight, princess. But you made me come so hard that I need a minute. Since you’ve been such a good girl—” His fingers push deeper into me, thrusting as the pad of his thumb finds my clit. “I’ll make you come right now. Just watching you like this, while I fuck my cum into you—that’ll be enough to get me hard all over again.”

His cock twitches as he says it, his fingers taking up a rhythm that makes me gasp and clutch at the blankets. Dimly, I realize that he just told me that he was going to fuck me in the ass—something I’ve never wanted to do or imagined I would enjoy. But something about the pleasure rippling through me, the way he keeps pushing me closer and closer to the edge, the dark, lustful note in his voice when he promises what else he’s going to do to me—it seems to quell any fears I might have, keep me from voicing the fact that I don’t even know if I want that.

It’s as if the possessive way he speaks to me has taken me over entirely, making me his with every touch, every thrust of his fingers, his cock, every word he says. I moan as he picks up his pace, his thumb rubbing over my slick, swollen clit as he thrusts his fingers into me, pushing his cum deeper with every stroke. I open my eyes to see that he’s looking down at me, that same victorious glint in his eyes that I’ve seen there before, but I don’t have time to try to understand why before the orgasm hits me.

I scream his name as my fingers dig into the blankets, my body clenching around his fingers, convulsing as Kian keeps up the rhythm, never letting up for even a second as I come hard on his hand.

“ Fuck ,” I hear him mutter, as I look up to see his dark gaze fixed on mine. “I could watch you come like that all fucking night, princess.”

That rasping growl sends another shudder of pleasure through me. I writhe on Kian’s fingers, seeking those last tremors of the climax—and then, his fingers slip out of me as he grabs my hips and flips me over as easily as if I weighed nothing.

“Now, wife ,” he murmurs huskily, his hands sliding over my curves as he kneels behind me. “It’s time to take the rest of your virginity.”

“Kian—” I gasp his name, on the verge of arguing, but his hand tightens on the curve of my ass, holding me firmly in place.

“I can tie you up, Sabrina, or I can leave you unbound. But you didn’t think I wouldn’t take the last bit of innocence you have to offer me tonight, of all nights, did you? You didn’t think I’d claim my wife in every single way ?”

The way he emphasizes that last tells me that he’s thought about this before. It almost sounds as if he didn’t claim me in that way before because he was saving it for tonight—but that doesn’t make sense. Our marriage was a whirlwind, something neither of us saw coming.

I don’t have time to think it over. Kian’s hands are on my ass, caressing, sliding over my skin in a way that sends shudders down my spine, reminding me of the night he spanked me. I’m trembling with nerves, too, suddenly afraid of what comes next. I’ve never imagined being fucked in the ass, but I can’t help thinking it will hurt.

His fingers slide into me, a momentary distraction, making me gasp as he thrusts them into me once, twice, sliding them back out and then up to my tight hole, using my arousal and his cum to lubricate me. I gasp as I feel his fingers there, sliding around the tiny entrance, and I sink my teeth into my lip as I feel him start to slide the tip of his index finger inside.

“After tonight, every part of you will be mine, princess,” he murmurs, his other hand still gripping my hip tightly. “ Fuck , just thinking about it gets me so fucking hard.” As if to demonstrate, he slides his finger out, pressing the swollen head of his cock where his finger was a moment before.

“Kian, it won’t fit—” I beg, fear tightening my muscles. “Kian, please?— ”

“Yes, it will, princess.” He angles his cock downwards, rubbing himself briefly through my folds, coating his length with my wetness. The friction momentarily distracts me, making me gasp, my fingers clutching at the pillows in front of me as Kian rocks back and forth. “And I’ll make you come while I do it. I want to feel you come with my cock in your ass, my filthy little bride.”

“I—”

“Grab the headboard, princess.” His voice is sharp, a curt command, but thick with lust all the same. “I’ll go slow, at first. But you’ll need to relax,” he adds, sliding his cock back up so that he’s once again pressing against the tight entrance. “I’m going to fuck your pretty virgin ass one way or another, Sabrina. It’ll feel better if you relax.”

Easier said than done , I think, still shivering with mingled fear and arousal, but I try. I bite my lip, half terrified that he’s going to thrust into me hard, the way he’s done before, but he meant it when he said he’d go slow. He presses into me, one hand holding me steady, and for a minute, I can’t help but think he’s wrong. He won’t fit. There’s no give, only the steady pressure of his swollen cockhead trying to push into an entrance far too small for him—and then I feel him slip in.

A hot burn sweeps through me, and I let out a cry of pain, tears welling in my eyes. Kian groans aloud, a counterpoint of pleasure, and his fingertips dig into my hip, his entire body shuddering as he holds himself still.

“ Fuck ,” he swears, and I turn my head slightly, looking over my shoulder. He looks almost undone, his reddish-brown hair falling into his face, his muscles tight and glistening with sweat, his thick cock swollen and veined, only the first inch of it buried in my ass. The sight of him is enough to send a shiver of desire through me, momentarily replacing the fear, and he must see it in my face, because he uses that moment to push deeper, another inch of his thick length sliding into my ass.

“Kian!” I cry out his name, and he groans, his fingers digging into my soft flesh as he shudders.

“Say my name like that again, princess, and I’ll come before I’m all the way inside of you,” he groans. He thrusts again, a little harder this time, and I pitch forward, fingers curling tightly around the headboard as that hot, painful burning sweeps through me again.

“It hurts,” I sob, and he pauses. I swear I can feel his cock pulsing inside of me, far too big for the tight space he’s invading. His hand slides down, curling briefly around my hipbone before sliding over my taut abdomen, down over the soft blonde curls between my thighs, and delving between my legs.

His fingers find my clit, taking up that firm, circular motion that he’s already figured out that I liked—that even I didn’t know I liked before him. And as he does, he thrusts again, sliding deeper into my ass inch by inch as he plays with my clit until finally, he’s buried to the hilt, his hips pressed tightly to the curve of my ass.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “God, you’re so fucking tight. I’m not going to last long like this, princess. Even the third time, your ass feels too fucking good.”

I’m terrified of what it will feel like when he starts to move. It feels strange, invasive, and that burning hasn’t let up—but the pleasure of his fingers rolling over my clit helps break through it, turning the pain into something different, something that feels like a different sort of arousal.

I arch a little, pressing into him, and Kian groans.

“That’s my filthy girl,” he murmurs, hips twitching as he steadies himself. “My slutty wife .” He hisses the last word as he draws out, inch by inch, making me cry out in mingled pain and pleasure, his fingers still rolling over my clit as he pulls out to the tip—and then thrusts back in again.

It’s not as hard as he’s fucked me before, but hard enough that I cry out again, my knuckles turning white where I’m gripping the headboard. Kian moans, shuddering behind me, and I know he’s close already. His fingers keep up that rhythm, and I realize dimly, through the foggy haze of mingled pain and arousal, that he could actually make me come again like this.

“Come for me,” Kian murmurs, thrusting again, the slap of his hips against my ass punctuating each thrust, each roll of his fingers. “ Come for me, princess. I want to feel you come with my cock in your ass.”

I don’t know if I can, if the pleasure can overcome the burning stretch of him fucking me, but it builds and builds, and when I look over my shoulder at him again, I feel myself tip in the direction of yes . He looks like a fucking god behind me, all muscle and sweat and lust, and I remember that he’s gotten hard three times tonight because of me, fucked me in every hole because he wants me so badly, made me into his slut because that’s what he wants, to possess me, to claim me, to?—

“Kian!” I shriek his name as the orgasm hits me, my back arching, my nails scraping against the back of the headboard as I grind back against him, suddenly heedless of the pain of his cock stretching my ass. He moans, fingers rubbing my clit feverishly as he starts to thrust harder, gasping aloud as his other hand clutches at my hip.

“Fuck yes, come with my cock in your ass, come all over it, you filthy slut, you?—”

The words taper off into a groan of sheer ecstasy as I feel him go harder than before, his entire body stiffening as he shudders, thrusting once more. “I’m fucking coming, oh fuck , princess, I’m going to fucking fill your ass with my cum, fuck ?—”

Another tremor of pleasure ripples through me, and I moan helplessly as he comes for the third time, giving me exactly what he promised. I feel him jerk and shudder again, feel the moment that he softens, sliding out of me as he collapses to one side of me on the bed, and I drop down to my stomach, utterly exhausted.

For a long moment, neither of us speak. We’re both panting, breathless, wrung out with pleasure and orgasms and an absolute marathon of sex. I want to say something, but I can’t think of what, and for a second, I think I might fall asleep just like this, I’m so tired.

When I open my eyes again, Kian is looking at me with a strange expression on his face. There’s that same victorious gleam in his eyes, too, but something else—something unsettled. I want to ask what it is, but I don’t have the energy for that, either.

“I should go clean up,” I whisper. I can feel his cum, still sticky on my face, making me even more of a mess than I would be otherwise. I wonder if he’ll tell me no, if he’ll say that he wants me to sleep like this, wrecked and used and full of him. The thought sends a small tremor of arousal through me, but Kian just nods, shifting so that he’s lying back against the pillows. His muscled body still looks utterly gorgeous, reclining back on my bed, almost out of place in the modest, rustic surroundings.

“Are you going to be here when I get back?” The question comes out before I even realize I’m going to ask it. “Are you going to stay?” He’s never stayed before, and an odd feeling tightens my chest at the thought.

Kian looks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “Of course, Sabrina,” he says, chuckling softly. “We’re married.”

Of course. I feel idiotic for asking, now. “Sorry,” I murmur. “It still feels new to me.”

“I might be asleep when you get back,” he adds. “But I’ll be here.”

I nod, slowly finding the energy to move my limbs again, to slide off of the bed. When I stand up, I feel his gaze raking over me, and I’ve never felt more his than I do in that moment. There’s no part of me that he hasn’t been inside of now, nothing he hasn’t made his own, and I like it more than I thought I would.

For the first time in what feels like a long time, I feel safe.