Page 70 of Deadly Oath

For a long moment, neither of us speak. We’re both panting, breathless, wrung out with pleasure and orgasms and an absolute marathon of sex. I want to say something, but I can’t think of what, and for a second, I think I might fall asleep just like this, I’m so tired.

When I open my eyes again, Kian is looking at me with a strange expression on his face. There’s that same victorious gleam in his eyes, too, but something else—something unsettled. I want to ask what it is, but I don’t have the energy for that, either.

“I should go clean up,” I whisper. I can feel his cum, still sticky onmy face, making me even more of a mess than I would be otherwise. I wonder if he’ll tell me no, if he’ll say that he wants me to sleep like this, wrecked and used and full of him. The thought sends a small tremor of arousal through me, but Kian just nods, shifting so that he’s lying back against the pillows. His muscled body still looks utterly gorgeous, reclining back on my bed, almost out of place in the modest, rustic surroundings.

“Are you going to be here when I get back?” The question comes out before I even realize I’m going to ask it. “Are you going to stay?” He’s never stayed before, and an odd feeling tightens my chest at the thought.

Kian looks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “Of course, Sabrina,” he says, chuckling softly. “We’re married.”

Of course.I feel idiotic for asking, now. “Sorry,” I murmur. “It still feels new to me.”

“I might be asleep when you get back,” he adds. “But I’ll be here.”

I nod, slowly finding the energy to move my limbs again, to slide off of the bed. When I stand up, I feel his gaze raking over me, and I’ve never felt morehisthan I do in that moment. There’s no part of me that he hasn’t been inside of now, nothing he hasn’t made his own, and I like it more than I thought I would.

For the first time in what feels like a long time, I feel safe.

28

KIAN

When the morning light wakes me, threading through the curtains, for a brief moment, I don’t know where I am.

I felt like this once before, recently, when I moved to Rivershade. My first morning in my house, I woke up entirely disoriented, unsure of where I was and why I was there. It took me a few days to lose that sensation, especially given how different the little house I moved into is from what I’m used to.

This morning, the feeling is amplified by the fact that there’s a warm, soft, feminine body next to me. Sabrina is on her side, naked, curled up with her blonde hair spilling across the pillow, sleeping the sleep of the thoroughly exhausted. It’s no surprise—I wore her out last night. I was surprised she had the energy to get up and shower before coming back to bed.

I’d almost told her she couldn’t. I’d been tempted to tell her that she had to sleep the way I left her, covered in my cum, with it dripping out of her holes. But something in me deflated, afterward, and it wasn’t just my exhausted cock. I hadn’t thought I would lose my taste for dominating her so quickly, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that she wasn’t allowed to go clean up.

So instead, I’d laid in bed while I listened to the shower run, and thought about the fact that I’m now a married man.

The gold of my wedding ring gleams in the sunlight, and I look at it, surprised all over again at the sight of it. I’d known I would end up married one day, but I hadn’t thought, until very recently, that this would be the way it played out.

Sabrina stirs next to me, letting out a sleepy yawn that tells me she’s on the verge of waking up, and I tense. I don’t know what she expected last night would be—her wedding night—but I doubt it was what I gave her. She seemed shocked by it, in the moment. Startled by the roughness of it, my possessiveness.

But she liked it, too. I know that from the way she came for me, over and over, with my cock in her mouth and her pussy and finally her ass, the way she moaned and screamed my name. She might have been caught off guard, but she loved every second.

That doesn’t mean she might not feel differently in the morning light, though. I watch as she stretches, yawning again, and I feel that strange tug in my chest that seems to come more and more often when I’m around her. I find myself wanting to just look at her, admiring the way her slender, lithe body moves beneath the blankets, the way her lips are parted, her long eyelashes dusting against her cheeks. I’d expected her to be a spoiled brat when we first met, but there’s more to Sabrina than that. I’ve seen it in the days I’ve spent with her, the interactions I’ve seen between her and her friends, the way Daphne and Marie came together to give her a wedding day that would be special.

That doesn’t matter, I tell myself firmly as I push myself up against the headboard.You married her for a reason. That’s all that matters. It doesn’t change anything.

Sabrina rolls over, blinking sleepily, and I tense for her reaction when last night comes back to her. But she just rolls into me, slinging one arm over my waist as she pillows her head against my chest and lets out a sigh.

There’s that tug in my chest again, but deeper this time, stronger. I have the urge to wrap my arm around her and pull her closer, to sinkback down into the bed with her and spend the day here with her. It’s the day after my wedding—no one would think twice about it if I called in. But Ishouldn’t.

I can’t let her get under my skin. I’ve already let my desire for her come close to spinning out of my control. Letting myselffeelsomething for her is impossible.

It can’t happen.

“I think that was the best night’s sleep I’ve ever gotten,” Sabrina murmurs dreamily, nuzzling into me a little closer before opening her eyes. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Get married?” I smirk down at her, and she opens those wide blue eyes, giving me a sleepy smile in return.

“If that’s what it takes.” She has that look in her eyes that I’ve seen on women’s faces before, the look of someone satisfied and well-fucked, but I’ve never had this feeling wash over me before. It’s something different from satisfaction, something I can’t quite put a name to.

Something I don’twantto put a name to.

“Take your time getting up,” I tell her, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll go cook you breakfast, since that’s the only thing I know how to make.”

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