Page 183 of Seizing Control: Part One

I close my eyes again.

This time, it’s to block out the anger in his gaze.

I love Carter’s darkness.

I hate Slash’s jealousy.

“It’s not good enough, wife.” After he’s made me gag on his length four times, his anger dissipates. Slash’s touch is gentle when he frees his dick from my mouth. He catches me under the arms and lifts me back onto the washing machine. I don’t have time to protest before he’s sliding inside my body again. “This pussy is mine. If I want to treat her soft, then I’m gonna do that.” Punctuating his words with shallow thrusts, my husband circles his thumb over my clit. The instantaneous sparks of desire that catch alight in my lower belly make my limbs turn to molten lava. “I feel you, baby. Grippin’ me tight. Your pussy wants me deep as I can get, my dick buried inside you to the hilt. Hard and fast. Soft and slow. Your body wants me... but that big fuckin’ heart of yours keeps hangin’ on to your different but equal bullshit so you don’t feel bad for bein’ happy with me.”

“Carter. Don’t do this.”

“Do what, duchess... make you face the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Too late, baby.”

With deep, measured pumps of his hips, my husband pleasures my body at the same time as he annihilates my heart. I convulse around his hard length when he pushes me toward climax with his deliberate movements. The combination of Slash’s precise thrusts, his soul-destroying words, and his magical thumb moving over my clit, I crest the pinnacle of desire. My legs close around him, holding him close, and I frantically tear at his man-bun so I can feel his long locks running through my fingers. My other hand roams his chest, my nails reopening the scratches I made along his torso five days ago as I try to change up the tempo before he emotionally breaks me.

Catching hold of my wrist, Slash stops me from turning things violent.

He pulls my arm around his neck.

Fingers in his hair, the other hand cupping his nape, I bury my face in the crook of his neck. Over and over, I chant, “Different but equal” as my inner muscles grip his cock tight. The surge of emotion that hits as I reach orgasm makes me whimper. I love him so much. More than I safely should. Losing Slash is my second-biggest fear. The first is losing my baby—the final remnant of mine and Zeke’s love or the start of my bond with Slash.

I’ve survived losing my first love.

Barely.

I won’t survive another loss.

I know this instinctually.

“That’s it, baby. Clench my dick, keep me inside you. Let me feel you splinter... break apart in my arms, duchess. I’ll hold you together. Never let you go.” His words begin to run into each other when his own release starts to build. I’m spasming around him, the staccato cadence to his thrusts losing their potency as my husband abandons the rhythm of his punishing love to chase ecstasy with me. “I love you, duchess. You’re my wife. My everything. I’m your safe haven. You’re my salvation. So, break, baby... let go. Love me. ’Cause I’ll catch you when you break.”

“Don’t stop,” I sob. Clutching him tight, I fight through the waves off bliss crashing through me. “Don’t let me go.”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

I sink my teeth into his shoulder while the final vestiges of pleasure roar in my ears and roll through my body. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m goin’ nowhere.”

Finishing with a juddering shiver that racks the length of my spine, I whisper, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.”

When I realise that Slash has finished ejaculating, despite his continuing hardness inside me, I lift my head from his shoulder and force myself to meet his eyes. The muted glee I expected to find is curiously absent. In its place, I discover adoration and understanding. He is satiated, yet I can see that he’s worried he’s pushed me too hard.

“Love you, duchess.” The kiss he presses to my forehead is soft, yet it feels like he’s struck me with a hammer. “We’ve got somethin’ good here. Needa protect it with everythin’ we’ve got.”

Repeating his earlier admission, I tell him, “I know.”

“This baby is mine, ya hear me?”

Somehow, I understand that this is the closest Slash is going to get to addressing the uncertainty surrounding my baby’s paternity. Seizing the opportunity with both hands, despite my fragile state, I nod twice. “I hear you.”

After the big man uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaking my cheeks, he collars my throat. I sigh as the tiny amount of tension left in my body evaporates in the wake of his savage claiming, and my husband swallows the sound in a kiss. Still connected in the most elemental way, his cock inside my wet warmth, our tongues touch as we breathe each other in while we taste the other’s desperation.

---