Page 47 of Captive Bride

“So, your solution was to barge in on me, take me away from everything I love, and bring me out here to god knows where?”

She’s down to the just the rain-soaked robe. I can see the slim lines of her body beneath it, and I have to tell myself that it’s not right. The girl’s a fucking virgin.

Yes, I owe her apologies, maybe...but I’m not an apologetic man.

“I had to do it. You think I was just gonna stand by and let you marry that man, the Governor? Fuck, Isobel. The guy’s a criminal.”

“Well, so are you!” she says furiously, and it’s the truth.

I have no recourse except to tell her the truth.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, do you realize that?” I say, admitting it all in a kind of defeat.

She looks at me with a certain amount of caution in her eyes, and it starts to register. Yes, my feelings are real. She’s not alone in this.

“You did it to get me away from the Governor?” she asks.

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? You ran away from me, Isobel. Don’t ever do that again,” I say to her sternly, meaning every word.

She shakes out her hair, and I just watch, wanting to touch her, to go to her, to crush her beneath the weight of my body.

“You know I’d never been kissed before tonight?” she says lightly.

I can believe it. Her father’s had her chained up within that skyscraper for as long as I can remember. I’d hear stories of Isobel Capulet and how beautiful she is, but I never dreamed it could be true, that she could be so...fucking perfect.

“And so? Was it worth the wait?” I say, taking a seat on her bed.

The place is outfitted perfectly. It’s opulent, but that’s the Montague way.

She ignores my question and says, “Turn around so I can change.”

Is this it? Is she forgiving me now?

I don’t turn around. My gaze is set on her, and I make sure she knows it.

“Don’t run from me again, Isobel. Let me see you,” I say, knowing that the moment I truly capture her is upon us.

She walks toward me. The sexual tension is more apparent than ever. There’s no escaping this thing we have.

Her long blonde hair is wet, and it drips onto my pants. I stare up into her crystal blue eyes.

There’s no going back.

I run my hands up her thighs. I pull the robe down off her body, and her perfect tits come into view, constrained only by the flimsy lace bra she’s wearing.

She says, “Why did you have to kiss me like that and make me fall in love?”

“Love? How can you love me? You don’t even know me,” I say, brushing off her comment like it’s not even true, like I don’t also feel the raging torrent of emotions that she brings down upon me.

“Don’t you want me?” she says, taking my hand and sliding it up her torso, across her flat stomach that trembles to my touch, then to her breasts.

I clutch at her bra and yank it off. Her beautiful tits are almost more than I can bear.

I become hungry. Hungrier than ever before.

Pulling her toward me, I take a handful of her tits and slam her down on the bed where I can finally have my way with her.

I kiss her nipples and tease them with my tongue, devouring her all too quickly.

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