slid across my neck. “I kept pushing it deeper. I kept bleeding.”
“More,” he demanded. His dick throbbed inside of me, like he was getting off to the worst parts of me. The darker I went, the louder he groaned.
I was twisting in it.
“But I only want you inside me. In my heart. In my soul. In the dark parts I can’t go. And when I realized there was someone still inside me…making me bleed…”
“More.” He went harder—punishing.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Little nun,” he said soft and coaxing, “do you think anything you say could ever make me leave you? Make me look at you differently?”
“I-I…” I broke off on a groan as he switched positions, deeper—ripping my darkest, dirtiest thoughts while he gave me pleasure.
“Be a good girl, Story.” His kiss turned sweet. Hot. Massaging my breasts and down between my thighs. I couldn’t think. “Give me a secret.”
“I don’t feel bad,” I admitted on a long groan as his fingers rounded my clit. “I’d do it again. Because…because I think that night showed me all the thorns I couldn’t see. That night freed me.”
There it was.
The piece that had been cutting my soul. That horrible, jagged shard I was too afraid to say to myself, let alone aloud, to the love of my life.
I waited for him to shame me.
To hate me.
“Grayson—” I tried to backtrack.
He groaned a deep, longing sound at the base of my neck, head falling to my shoulder blades. “Fucking perfect.”
Then he lifted his head.
Our eyes locked.
It was out.
It was finally fucking out.
I felt…free.
“I knew you were trouble when you kissed me.”
He crushed his lips to mine, violent and vicious. It was sloppy and wet and desperate. Grayson flipped me to my stomach, his cock bottoming out inside me and I sucked in air.
This position was the deepest.
His lips brushed my ear. “Breathe, little wife.”
He started a slow, gentle, ruthless rhythm until I was nothing but heat and aching. Until my stomach was a knot begging to be undone. Until every slight touch had me preening into it like a cat.
“Fuck. You’re so perfect.” He brushed the hair out of my face, lips against my neck. “My good little wife, letting me deep inside her soul.”
His approval made my skin tingle, my teeth ache.
I would do anything to hear that soft, gentle tone.
“Please,” I begged.
I don’t know what I was begging for.
Harder?
Slower?
Faster?
Just… “More,” I groaned.
Using me like a doll, he reached under and lifted me up so my ass was in the air and my cheek flush against the marble. Everything about this was wrong and so right. He burned our love onto the marble, on a floor I’d once mopped, where he’d once tormented me.
“Your soul is fucking mine, Story. Every dark corner, every bleeding piece. You don’t give that shit out to anyone ever again.”
“Yours,” I sighed. “All yours.”
He ripped my lips to his for a brief, soul-searing kiss, then he slapped my pussy again and gripped my hips, pounding.
“Whose cock is inside you?” Pound.
“Yours.” Pound.
“Who do you think about when you’re filled?” Pound.
“You.” I groaned. “Only you.”
Grayson was everywhere. His muscular thighs caged me, his carved chest and abs hot on my back. His lips and teeth kissed and bit from neck to shoulders to spine.
I was delirious with him, with his ruthless rhythm.
He was marking me. Owning me.
“You don’t have a similar piece, you are my piece,” he snarled against my flesh. “Now come on my cock, dirty nun. Your tight ass is begging to squeeze me.”
He pushed against my lower stomach as he thrust deep inside my ass.
And I saw stars.
The world around me shattered, and then all I knew was rolling, gasping waves of pleasure. Deep, aching waves I think might destroy me.
“Scream,” Grayson demanded. “Fucking scream, little nun. You own this house.” Thrust. “You own me.” Thrust. “Fucking scream.”
The great chandelier blurred with his thrusts. I think I screamed, by the way my throat ached. I had a vague view of Grayson’s warm hand closing over mine as I clawed at the cold marble.
“You are so goddamn perfect when you come,” he murmured against my flesh. “My perfect little wife. You only come for me.”
His sweet words licked my ear just like the very first time Grayson took me, tethering me as I came. This orgasm felt different. Marked. As if Grayson was holding a hand to my soul, bruising the name Grayson Crowne forever and indelibly with his thumbprint.
“I will never let you go again,” he continued. “Never