Page 24 of Velvet Chains
“Victor,” she breathes, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. “I need… I need to feel all of you.”
Growling, I sit up, wrapping my arms around her as I thrust up into her welcoming heat. “Take it, kiska. Take everything I have.”
She clings to my shoulders, her nails digging deliciously into my skin as she matches my rhythm. Each slap of our flesh, each shared moan, ratchets the tension higher.
“So deep… so good…” Laura pants against my neck, her pussy starting to flutter around my pistoning cock. “Gonna come… fuck, gonna come on your cock…”
Her filthy words nearly undo me, my balls drawing up tight. “That’s it, let go. Come for your husband, wife.”
As if obeying my command, her pussy clamps down on me like a vise as she shatters in my arms, screaming her pleasure for all the world to hear. The sensation is too much, too intense, and with a roar, I follow her over the edge, erupting deep inside her spasming cunt.
For a long moment, we just cling to each other, chests heaving, pulses pounding in sync. I turn my head, burying my nose in her hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent of our combined passion.
“Fuck,” she murmurs.
As Laura climbs off my lap, I instantly feel the loss of her warmth, my softening cock slipping free of her warm pussy. She won’t meet my eyes as she perches on the edge of the bed, her back to me.
“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “You’ll need to get me more of that Plan B.”
I grunt in acknowledgment, too spent to form words. The casual reminder of our arrangement shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut, but it does. This thing between us isn’t destined to last. No point in getting attached.
I watch as she pads toward the bathroom, admiring the sway of her hips, the marks I’ve left on her creamy skin. Possession surges through me, primal and fierce. She’s mine in every way that matters.
The bathroom door shuts with a click, and I flop back against the pillows, suddenly drained. Today’s been a fucking rollercoaster—the wedding, her asshole father, the fight, and now this mind-blowing sex. It’s too much to process.
Exhaustion drags at me, and I let my eyes drift shut.
I’ll just rest for a minute…
I wake with a start, my cock hard and aching, reaching instinctively for her. But the sheets are cold, her side of the bed empty.
Pizda.
A bitter laugh escapes me as I palm my throbbing dick. I’m so thoroughly fucked, and not in the way I prefer. Somehow, this woman I’ve shackled myself to for a year has gotten under my skin in mere hours.
I grunt as I slowly haul myself out of bed, ignoring the protesting throb of my shoulder. “Laura?” I call out, but only silence answers me.
Fuck, did she run?
The thought hits me like a blow to the chest. Of course she did.
Why would she stay shackled to a monster like me? I’m an idiot for thinking one good fuck could change anything.
I’m halfway to the door, ready to raise the alarm, when it swings open. Laura slips inside, a plastic bag in one hand, wearing nothing but one of my white button-downs and a pair of sneakers. The sight of her in my clothes, her hair mussed from our activities, sends a possessive thrill straight to my dick.
“Where did you go?”
“I went to the pharmacy,” she explains, holding up the bag. “Got some… pills and supplies to change your bandages.”
I blink at her, thrown off balance. “You did?”
She nods, setting the bag on the dresser. “It’s just across the street. Figured you could use some fresh dressings after…” She trails off, a becoming blush staining her cheeks.
I’m still trying to process that she came back, that she’s here, voluntarily taking care of me. “And where did you get the money for this little shopping trip?” I ask, arching a brow.
Laura fiddles with the hem of her—my—shirt, peeking up at me through her lashes with a coy smile. “Well, since you kidnapped me without packing any of my things, I borrowed some cash from your wallet. Hope you don’t mind.”
A surprised laugh rumbles out of me. Well, well. Seems my blushing bride has some claws, after all.
