Page 21 of Taken By the Soldier
Say it, damn you. Say you belong to me.
Say you fucking belong to me.
I try to ignore the voice in the back of my head that whispers our relationship is moving too fast, at least on my end. This fierce sense of possession I feel for her can’t be normal, especially considering all I’ve lost. I try to tell myself I’m only following orders, but the truth isn’t quite so clear-cut. The truth is that I’m drawn to Judith. Intensely so. I cannot fathom letting her go.
It's primal, pure animalistic need, this desire I have to conquer her and keep her.
“I know you want to say it, but you’re afraid.” I smack her again. “Say it. I can spank this pretty pussy of yours all day, princess. Fucking. Say. It.”
A sob bursts from her throat. “You!” she yells, emotion straining her voice as her shoulders heave. “I belong to you!”
“Damn right you do,” I say, positioning my cock at her entrance. “I’m your husband and your master. You’remy wife, Judith. You belong to no other but me. Don’t you ever, ever forget it.You’re mine.”
I slam into her pussy, filling her up with one quick, brutal thrust of joining. I clasp her hips harder and drive into her with rapid, delicious movements. She opens her legs wider and braces her hands on the bed.
Longing and desire and satisfaction fill me as I fuck her furiously, until we both fall over the edge together, into an abyss of breathless euphoria so deep and wide that I lose touch with reality as I claim her. The world disappears. The war. The memory of the islands and loved ones taken away. Pain and heartache and lost faith vanishes. Judith consumes me even as fully as I consume her.
We collapse on the bed after this first time, utterly spent in a tangle of arms and legs as the scent of sex permeates the room.
It’s done.
Marriage consummated.
She officially belongs to me.
Chapter9
JUDITH
I stareout the window as the rain ricochets off the lake. The front door and all the windows are locked, and the security system is armed too. Before he left to go patrol the borders of the settlement with his men today, Luka made a point to inform me of the measures he was taking to make sure I didn’t escape.
But, technically, I could still run away—with a little brute force.
I fetch a chair from the kitchen and stand in front of the large bay window, trying to work up the courage to smash the glass. It feels sturdy in my hands, and I suspect it would shatter the glass on impact.
If I break a window, it’ll set the alarm off, and Luka will be alerted immediately. I don’t know how large the settlement is and how far away he might be at this very moment, but if I run fast, maybe I can escape this place.
Maybe I can escape him.
A groan leaves me as my courage falters, and I set the chair on the floor and run a hand through my hair in frustration. Then I start pacing the living room. With each step, I can feel my sore ass cheeks brushing against the fabric of my pants.
I pause and rub my bottom as memories of what happened yesterday return, leaving me strangely breathless and aching between my thighs. I try to push my sudden desires away, but it’s useless. The more I try not to think about the spanking, as well as the explosive sex that followed, the deeper the ache in my core grows.
If I run away and Luka catches me, I have no doubt he’ll drag me back to the cabin and punish me. And I suspect if he’s forced to deal with another escape attempt of mine, particularly so soon after the first one, he will use more than his hand as he spanks me.
His belt. He would probably use his belt.
A quiver assails me as I imagine him bringing the thick leather implement down across my bare bottom.
As I return the chair to the kitchen, I try to convince myself that I’ve decided not to run away right now because it’s raining and I might catch a chill, not because I fear being punished by my husband.
Husband.
My breath catches at the word.
Is he truly my husband though?
He forced me to marry him.
