Page 67 of The Dove
His tongue traced over his teeth, the thrill of claiming what was his blotting out all else. Only there was no longer any need to chase her. She’d come to him, thrown herself at his feet and surrendered. He would sink his teeth in and never let up … not even if the day came when she regretted her choice.
He leapt up into the carriage, and the moment he pounded the ceiling, they were underway again.
The parted curtains illuminated the coach’s large interior, revealing Daphne on the seat across from him. That damned ribbon taunted him, a mark of ownership he had not realized he’d missed until he saw her this way again. She should wear lilac every day, the color enlivening her complexion and making her eyes appear almost violet.
Clenching a fist, he contemplated tearing the gown to shreds, even knowing she had come with nothing but the clothes on her back.
“I hope you do not mind,” she said, breaking the silence. “Robert came to me … he told me what you did and then offered me marriage again. But I couldn’t … not when I knew you’d only done it because you loved me. He offered to bring me to your hotel, only we arrived after you’d already departed. It was his idea to follow you … he found it all very romantic.”
“It isn’t,” he groused, annoyed that Robert would get any sort of satisfaction out of this.
She smirked at him, the amusement in her gaze continuing to rustle the flames of his agitation. He needed her to understand that this was no laughing matter. She’d just put herself back in his clutches, and this time, he did not intend to do the honorable thing.
“Get on your knees,” he barked. “With your back to me … bend over the seat.”
Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched, the hammering of her pulse visible at the juncture of her neck and collarbone. Licking her lips, she nodded, peeling off her redingote and tossing it aside before coming off the seat and sinking to the floor.
“Yes, Master,” she replied.
He scowled at her, despite enjoying the way that honorific sounded coming from her. He quite liked it.
“Do not try to placate me,” he snapped, pressing a hand against his throbbing erection as she presented her backside to him, bending over the seat and arching her back, her hips and arse an enticing outline against the fabric of her gown. “Not if you think it will get you out of this predicament. I will not be merciful.”
“Don’t,” she panted, her breath already quickening when he fisted her gown and began lifting it, baring her legs, skimming her silk stockings, giving one of her garters a tug. “I have never wanted you to be merciful.”
His own breathing grew harsh when her hips filled his hands, the firm cheeks of her arse appearing as he pushed the gown up and left it resting at her lower back. He trailed a finger over the swell of one hip, down the back of her leg, then up the inside of her thigh. She shuddered, whimpering and trying to angle herself so he touched where she wanted. He slapped the back of her thigh in warning, and she went still with a gasp and a groan.
Then, he delved his fingers between her legs, tickling her entrance, stroking the wet silken folds and teasing the little nub of her clit. She gasped, her wetness drenching his fingers, her body responding to him as if they’d never parted. He couldn’t resist taking a taste, lapping her juices off his fingers and flooding his senses with her heady scent and flavor.
“Adam,” she begged, the desperation in her voice only adding fuel to his desire.
“Not until I’ve had my due,” he murmured, grasping her buttocks and kneading them, warming her skin, opening her up to lay his eyes on what was his.
His gut clenched, his chest tightening and his fingers digging into her flesh in a hold he knew would leave his fingerprints, the mark of his possession. All of it was his, the slick entrance to her cunt, the tight little pucker of her rear passage, all of it and more. She was his in a way she’d never been before.
He raised one hand and let it fall, the impact of his blow resounding through his arm, making his palm sting. She gasped, but held still, accepting her punishment for pushing him, forcing his hand, making him toss aside his honor and take what should never have been his.
He hit her again, harder this time, finding the exact same spot and making her pink skin flush crimson. She cried out, her fingernails clawing at the upholstery as he went on spanking her, using both hands, punishing both cheeks, working her into a frenzy. By the time he’d finished with her, the evidence of her desire had begun trickling down one thigh, and her screams filled the carriage.
“Please, Adam,” she pleaded when he finally ceased and went back to touching her, sinking a finger inside her and withdrawing, teasing her to the brink. “I cannot wait any longer … I need …”
He knew what she needed, even if she could not say it aloud. Because he needed it, too.
He had his breeches snatched open in a matter of seconds, his cock falling heavy and hot into his hand. He stroked himself, once, hissing at the pleasure of it, of his naked cock free and inches away from taking its place inside her body. After time apart, he should go slow with her, perhaps take her gently and whisper words of love in her ear. But he didn’t have it in him … not now, perhaps not ever. He’d said it, and he’d meant it, but now came the time for possession … now, he would remind her who he was and what he’d demand of her, every single day until the day he died.
She threw her head back and cried out when he impaled her with one brutal thrust, his pelvis coming up against her arse as he rested his body over hers, covering her, pinning her to the seat. She sighed as if in relief when he began moving inside of her, battering her body with his own, driving as hard, fast, and deep into her as humanly possible.
He lifted his upper body and tore at her buttons, needing to touch her, to brand her skin, to access the parts of her he’d gone without for so long. Her gown loosened, and he kissed the ridges of her spine, ran his tongue over them, then sank his teeth into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She flew apart beneath him, writhing and crying out his name, her entire being shaken by the spasms rippling through her insides.
He clutched her shoulders, his thumb tracing her healed gunshot wound, a feral anger tearing through him at the reminder that she’d almost died.
“Mine,” he declared against her ear, nipping at the lobe and kissing the shell. “Never again will another touch you.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, Adam.”
“No one will ever harm you again,” he declared, his fingers still pressed against her wound, a poignant reminder of the pain she’d endured for his sake. “I’ll kill anyone who even touches you.”
She shivered, leaning her head back to rest against his shoulder, sighing as he dug deeper, his thrusts becoming less precise as he reached his end. It had been too long, and he could not hold back his completion. Fisting her hair, he yanked her head back, bending her neck until her lips were within reach. He clamped his lips over hers, moaning into her mouth as he went still, seating himself inside of her and finishing with a hot rush of seed. He filled her mouth with his tongue, drunk on the taste of her while he wrung himself dry inside her, pumping his hips a few more times and giving her every drop.
