Page 18 of Iron Bride

Ready for what? I had no idea. But the answer was a resounding, “Yes! Yes!Yes!”

He lifted himself up, his hand on either side of my head, boxing me in.

He pulled himself out, until only the tip connected us. Then he violently thrust in, entering me easily and quickly, the slick sound of my juices accentuating the slap of our hips.

I screamed. I screamed and struggled, but not to escape. To get more.

He thrust in again, and the corners of my vision blurred. Another thrust, and I lost all sense of the world. I was floating on a cloud, my body coiled in anticipation. One more thrust, and I was in ecstasy and bliss, high above the clouds, cresting a wave that pushed through my entire being.

“My God!” I marveled, unsure how any one person could hold such feelings within themselves.

“Well done,” he praised, bringing his face down to my throat.

In a flash, the binds around my wrists were undone.

“Wrap your arms around me. Wrap your legs too.” The instruction, like all the others, was obeyed. “Don’t let go.”

He rode me like a madman. I saw my own feelings mirrored in his frantic movements. Despair, desire, desperation. His skin heated, just like mine, as the sweat pooled between our bodies. He kissed me.

I was surprised. I never thought that Cillian would be the kind of man to kiss. But he was.

And I liked it.

The words blared in my mind.

And even that was a robbery. He stole another part of me. I didn’t even get to choose whether Ilikedthis arrangement. This marriage. My husband.

He growled, as his pace increased, his hips rubbing against my sensitive clit until a second wave went through me. My back arched, my hands clawed at his skin, he moaned in pleasure as our bodies bucked together, slamming as one until the final, hard thrust that joined us. The sensation of him coming inside me was thrilling and satisfying—even more than the two orgasms he’d granted me.

The feeling of him, satisfiedinsideof me.

Our arms and legs tightened, as we clung on, holding each other until we fell back down to earth.

The haze of lust burned away, and sadness gripped me in its jagged claws.

I was a traitor to Morelli. I had betrayed my father, my mother. My family.

“It’s alright, love,” he chanted over and over again.

I realized that I was crying.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” He went on and on. “You’re alright.”

I clung on tighter. I held on and wept.

“Talk to me, Wife,” he whispered against my cheek as he kissed a tear away. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s not alright,” I wept. “It’s not right.”

“What’s not right?”

“This. This isn’t right.” I balled my hand into a fist and slammed him on the chest. But he didn’t move. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

He kissed my other cheek. “I know.”

“I hate you.” I wept as if he hadn’t said anything. “And you’ve taken my hatred too. You’ve taken everything. You’ve even takenthis.The choice. I didn’t even get to choose who I gave my virginity to. It wasn’t a gift. It was a commodity.”

I was so distraught that I didn’t feel it when he rolled us to his back. That he had brought me to his chest, and held me to him, his fingers stroking my back.

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