Page 93 of Captive Bride

The vision above me is one of sheer fucking perfection. With her perfect curves, bouncy tits, and long, cascading nearly white hair, she’s reminiscent of Amorsa. Like Amorsa, Isobel draws men to her with her irresistibility. It’s quite fitting, considering she was decked out in diamonds the first time I met her, much like the Greek goddess she resembles.

Defiance flashes in her blue eyes, a shade deeper with lust. From seemingly nowhere, she pulls out her dagger.

Crafty girl.

I smirk at her.

What does my princess have up her sleeve?

“You want to die for me, right?” Her voice is but a whisper, but there’s a look of challenge in her eyes. “Do it now then.”

She presses the tip of the dagger ever so lightly against my chest and drags it down my torso.

She’s got guts, though I can tell it’s desperation driving her right now.

“Let’s do it together, Tristan. Because if there’s a world without you, I don’t want to be in it. I’d rather go out together than lose you.” Her eyes shift between mine, and I can see the slightest glimmer of tears forming at the corners.

So that’s how she wants to play this. I’ll do her one better.

I grab the dagger from her hand and run it down the tip of my chest, pressing enough to create a shallow cut. Just enough to spill some blood.

The pain is negligible. I don’t even feel it, really. Fuck, I was just shot the other day; this is child’s play compared to the shit I’ve seen and felt in my life.

Her eyes widen at the sliver of blood that runs out of the cut.

“Is this what you want? You want to see blood? You want to be in control of our lives?”

“…N-no.”

“Then don’t ever do this again. Don’t challenge me unless you’re prepared to follow through,” I lift her off me and toss her back on the bed. “Your life isn’t a joke. Not to me, Isobel.”

From the nightstand, I grab my gold handcuffs. I flip her onto her stomach and restrain her, biding her wrists to the headboard.

My crimson tie catches my eye. It’s lying on the floor, having been discarded in the heat of the moment. I quickly make use of it, tying it around Isobel’s eyes.

“Your life is mine,” I growl into her ear, before nipping at her lobe.

My cock twitches as she gasps, and I answer its call. Slipping my hands under her, I hoist her waist up, elevating her ass.

Thwack!I smack her perfectly round ass.

“That’s for being sassy with me.”

Thwack!I smack it again, seeing the red imprint bloom against her creamy white skin.

“That is for pulling your dagger on me.”

The third smack is the hardest yet, and I immediately plunge into her and groan loudly as the pleasure washes over me yet again.

It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I’ve got one hand on her shoulder, the other wrapped around her pelvis, stroking her clit. I alternate my movements. I don’t want to come yet.

I can feel the tingles and twitches of my orgasm bearing down on me, but it’s not time.

Not yet.

My hand moves from Isobel’s shoulder to the base of her neck where I grab and fist her hair, tangling it between my fingers.

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