Page 35 of Cruel Pawn
I kept talking, words spilling out, and with every eruption of rage across Arden’s knife-sharp face, I felt freer.
“He had everyone pin me to the ground during training after that job. He saw my fear, saw me freeze and stood by to see what I’d do. But Chaudhrys aren’t allowed to freeze. We’re not permitted a single weakness, so he had to train it out of me. It went on for months, my cousins pinning me down and forcing me through that trauma, even Grandfather’s guards restraining me when I managed to beat my cousins. All in the name of strength.”
My laugh was a little manic. “Well, the jokes on him because the trauma never went away. I just got better at hiding it and found a way to manage it during the sparring sessions.”
Arden pressed his lips to my forehead, the kiss so long that a lump grew in my throat and something hot and sharp clawedat my eyes. Bastard. Then he got up silently, releasing his clingy arms and depositing me on the bed without a single fucking sound.
“What are you doing?” I asked, and even I could hear the bitterness.
“Getting my wife clothes, as promised.”
“We’re not married,” I muttered, pulling my knees to my chest and not caring that I was flashing my pussy.
“Yet.” He returned from a chest of drawers on the edge of the room with a big, slate-grey shirt with a watercolour tabby cat on it. She had a pink, knitted bonnet on her head, bright fuchsia eyes, and her hand lifted as she was poised to clean her face.
“Interesting choice of shirt,” I commented as he brought it closer and tugged it unceremoniously over my head.
“It’s my favourite. Only the best for my pretty wife.”
“Still not married.”
His smirk reiterated the wordyet.
I watched closely as he retrieved the key that unlocked the padlocks at intervals on my chains, this time allowing my right wrist free so he could guide my arm into the shirt’s hole.
“You could unchain both my wrists,” I suggested, peering up at him with wide, innocent eyes, blinking so my lashes swept my cheeks. “I won’t go anywhere.”
“Ah, but that would make me a fool, my opera,” he said with a wider smile, snaring my free wrist and clicking the padlock back in place. Motherfucker. “And I wouldn’t be your perfect husband if I was a fool. You need someone smart enough to match you.”
He kissed my other palm before he unchained that wrist long enough for me to shove my arm through the hole of the T-shirt. The second it was on, I lunged at him, using my free hand to knock him onto his back, slamming him flat to the mattress and scratching at his closed fist.
“Give it to me,” I snarled, my jaw clenched in determination as I forced one finger out of his fist, determined to get that infernal fucking key.
“Well, if you insist,” he purred, which should have set alarm bells ringing, but I was a little busy fighting for my own freedom to—
His cock plunged into me in one ruthless, glorious thrust, and my toes curled at the sudden stimulation. Thestretch. God-fucking-damn. His free hand latched onto my hip, slamming me all the way down on his length, controlling my body so easily, so perfectly, grinding me against him. My eyes rolled.
“The key,” I managed to hiss, but I couldn’t keep my teeth from sinking into my bottom lip when his piercings grazed my inner self-destruct button.
“Should have been more specific, my pretty little opera.”
“Stop with the names already,” I spat, renewing my fight to get the key.
“Why? Because you like them too much? Because my perfect future wife is greedy for every bit of praise she can get?”
My stomach caved in. My fingers shook as I clawed at his closed fist, my freedomright there.But as he rolled his hips up into me, sending my breaths and heartbeats both scattering, the key wasn’t the only thing right there.
“I’m proud of you for opening up and telling me what haunts you,” he said as he snared me in a moment of eye contact, sounding so genuine that I bowed over him, my pussy rippling, squeezing. His lips brushed mine in a loving caress. “I know it wasn’t easy, and your instinct is to keep it all locked inside, but you have me now, Priya. You never have to fight your demons alone.”
“Shut up,” I said through gritted teeth, my eyes slamming shut, my thighs shaking as he ground our bodies together.
“I’ll be right here, holding you through every nightmare. I won’t leave your side, because there’s no one more special to me in the whole world, no one more perfectly suited to me than my pretty opera, my good girl.”
Air tore itself from my lungs in a gasp, and I came so hard my toes curled tight and my whole body quivered.
He repeated that infernal phrase over and over, his voice growing tighter as my pussy strangled his cock, forcefully ripping his climax from him. His loud, desperate moan made me come harder, his whining, aching noises dragging my orgasm out until I thought it would never end.
“Priya,” he moaned, frantically grappling at my hips to bring me closer, pressing the warm metal of the key against my skin. I didn’t even care about getting it anymore. I gave him what he wanted and draped myself over his chest, pouring my body over him as a deep sigh softened every part of me. The sound of my name on his lips shot me right into another climax, this one slow and heavenly. Arden sank his teeth into my shoulder with a breathy little sound as I clamped around him in rippling waves when he must be sensitive. Served him right for torturing me so often.
