Page 48 of Captive Bride

It’s hard to hold back. She can and will be my little slave forever. I’ll have her begging for it and running no more.

She cries out softly but tangles her fingers through my hair as if that could stop me. There’s no going back now. She’s mine.

“But, Tristan, how can this work? A Capulet and a Montague? We’ll both be disowned.”

“Fuck them,” is all I say as I growl my way down her belly to her tender sweetness. “You’re a virgin, right?”

She sits up and attempts to stop me. “Tristan, I’m serious. We could die from this.”

I stare into her eyes and find a sincerity there that’s compelling.

“Baby, why don’t you let me worry about them, and you just worry about giving me this moment?”

The gravity of the situation has been weighing on my shoulders since the moment I took her. I know she’s right, of course.

Once her father finds out that it’s me who has her, he’ll go on a killing spree like never before. We are in danger. I put her in danger.

But I can’t imagine it’s any worse than what she’d have to experience being with the Governor.

I make an internal note to see that he dies for almost taking this sacred moment, her virginity, from me.

“Tristan, we can’t. It can’t be...”

“Love?” I say the word before she can. “It is love, Isobel. I feel it, too, and now I’m going to devour you and show you just how it feels to be loved by a Montague.”

“Tristan, this can’t be real. This can’t be happening,” she says.

I pull her towards me and deliver her a kiss like no other, one that she’ll remember for the rest of her life.

I scrape my teeth along her bottom lip, and I taste her. She moans a little into my mouth.

I look into her blue eyes that suddenly seem a shade or two deeper.

“It’s real, Isobel. I felt it from the first moment I laid eyes on you. It’s love or lust or eternal desire, whatever you want to call it. But I’m fucking obsessed with you. You are mine. And I promise you that you can trust me.”

She peers up at me from under her long lashes, and all I can think of is how desirable she looks.

I put my hand between her legs and spread them out. I kiss her the whole time, trying to assure her. I’m intending to make this a nice first experience for her.

I won’t be too rough because I know the pain of taking in all twelve inches of me will be enough.

Sliding my hand down between her legs makes her shiver, and that excites me more than anything. I can tell I make her nervous. She should be nervous.

I finger her pussy nice and slow at first. I circle her clit with my thumb, and she looks like she might explode already.

That’s my girl.

I kiss her mouth, her neck, her tits, everything.

“Isobel Capulet, you fucking princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” she objects as I glide my tongue down between her breasts.

“You’re my princess,” I say darkly, trailing kisses down her skin.

She gets wetter by the second, and it’s hard to contain my throbbing erection, but I do. I’m going to make this last for as long as possible. It’s not every day you get to deflower the Capulet heiress.

My lips make contact with her innermost thighs, and she cries out my name.

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