Page 159 of Poison Vows

She gazes up at me, her dilated, aroused eyes so fucking captivating, looking like a lake reflecting the full moon. I feel like I’m drowning.

“You,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and low.

“Then you already know that I’ve got you,” I whisper, flexing our interlocked fingers and holding her gaze. “I’ve got you, baby. Breathe with me.”

She nods, looking up at me, and then I brace myself and thrust in fully and when she moans breathlessly, I lose my mind.

“You belong to me!” I speak against her lips as I find a rhythm.

This is not an ideal time to be doing this, but at the same time, there’s a raging need in me that I can’t deny any longer.

I watch every expression on her face, taking her breathing as my cue.

When she wraps her legs around my waist, locking them at the small of my back and moans my name, I think I ascend to Heaven.

The family is on fire, a bloody war is brewing, everyone is waiting for me, but I don’t care.

I give my wife everything, and with all the honor and respect I have, I accept what my wife gives me.

For the first time, our heartbeats match. Where fingers connect, there’s electricity.

Where tongues collide, there’s a flood.

And when she climaxes, the world in me and around me stands still.

I watch, completely enraptured by the look on her face.

Wanting more, I switch angles and rhythm, hitting the spot that makes her moan deeply, as if she can’t help herself.

I make love to my wife until she comes apart with a scream, her neck elongated.

I lean down and bite, unable to resist her, still rolling my hips until she comes yet again.

This time, her leg starts shaking. The shock in her eyes is too much that when my own release approaches, I almost lose the fight but knowing the danger, I quickly pull out and release on her stomach with a guttural groan, my mind frazzled.

After what feels like a while, I look at my wife’s face and just like that, a moment so beautiful shatters instantly.

Guilty and ashamed, I silently get up from the bed and go to the bathroom to wet a towel with warm water and then go back to take care of my wife. Then I take a quick shower.

After I’m done, I run my wife a hot bath, wanting to stay but knowing I don’t have a choice.

“Whenever you’re ready, a hot bath is waiting for you, if you’d like it,” I tell her as I button my shirt, but she’s watching me like a hawk.

I feel it, the massive elephant in the room, and before I can say something, she does.

“What was that?” she asks hoarsely.

“We made love.”

“No, that wasn’t love when you withhold yourself like that.”

Fuck!

“Ange—”

“Are you taking precautions all because of what I want as my term of our agreement?” she presses. “You sick bastard!”

“Baby, that’s not?—"

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