Page 17 of Branded

I set a punishing rhythm, fucking her hard and deep, the bed frame crashing against the wall with each thrust. Her breasts bounce with the force of it, and I lean down to catch one nipple in my teeth, biting hard enough to make her yelp.

“This is what you signed up for,” I growl against her skin. “This is our marriage, Lennox. Over and over again for the next two years.”

She is making sounds now, half gasps, half moans, her body moving in time with mine. She brings her legs up around my waist automatically, changing the angle, letting me sink even deeper. God, she’s perfection.

I grab her wrists and pin them above her head, holding them there with one hand while the other grips her hip, controlling her movements. She is completely pinned beneath me, unable to do anything but take what I give her.

“Look at me,” I command.

Her eyes flutter open, dazed, furious, but more importantly, aroused.

“Say. It,” I demand, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. “Say you’re mine.”

“Fuck you.”

I reach between us and find her clit, circling it roughly with my thumb. Her whole body jolts.

“Say it, or I’ll keep you on the edge all night. I’ll make you beg for release and never give it to you.”

“I’m…” She gasps, her pussy clenching around me. “I’m yours.”

“Louder.”

“I’m yours!” She screams it, and I feel her orgasm slam through her, her whole body convulsing beneath me.

The sensation of her coming around my cock is too much. I fuck her through it, chasing my own release, my hips pistoning brutally. As my orgasm hits, I bury myself as deep as I can possibly get and come hard, spilling inside her, marking her from the inside out.

Mine. My wife.

As her aftershocks fade, I stay inside her, both of us breathing hard. Slick sweat clings to our skin where our bodies press together. Her wrists are red from holding them, her hips already showing the fingerprints I’ve left.

Perfect.

I pull out slowly and roll to the side. My cum leaks out of her onto my expensive sheets, and the sight of it sends a dark thrill through me.

“That’s how it’s going to be,” I say, my voice rough from exertion. She turns her head to look at me, and there is pure in those blue eyes now. But underneath it, something else. Something calculating.

“I need a shower,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“Before round two? That seems counterintuitive,” I say as I reach over and palm her breast.

“In your dreams,” she fires back.

“I don’t have to dream, darlin’; round two will happen.”

“I fulfilled my contract obligations; that’s all it was.” She gets up slowly.

“Nowhere in the contract did it say you have to come more than once, though.” I lie back, smirking.

“Well, I come for my vibrator too. You’re not that special.” She winks at me, and I watch her walk naked to the bathroom, appreciating the view—long legs, perfect ass and the sway of her hips. She closes the bathroom door, and I hear water running, so I get up and pour another whiskey. This will be an interesting two years.

I should feel satisfied. Triumphant, even. I’ve just fucked my new wife, claimed her and established exactly how our marriage is going to work. Instead, I feel unsettled, and it excites me more than anything I’ve had in years.

I thought I wanted someone to break. Turns out, what I really want is someone strong enough to not be broken. Someone who’d challenge me every moment of her submission.

The water shuts off in the bathroom. I hear movement, quiet sounds. The medicine cabinet clicks open, then drawers open and close with haste.

I give her space. Let her process what has just happened. Let her hate me in private.