Page 63 of Under His Rule


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“It’ll be over quickly … I promise,” he whispers.

As though it’s just work. In and out. Job well done.

But it’s not, and I know it’s not, and even though I told myself I would close my eyes until it was finished so I didn’t have to see those men, I can’t stop myself from staring straight into Noah’s eyes. I want him to see. I want him to know that I’m only letting him do this because of our exchange. Because it’s my choice to do so.

And I can tell from the way he looks at me that it’s not at all sexy to him either. He looks as though he’s irritated, like he’s about to pull out and storm off. But he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting into me at a steady pace, never taking his eyes off me, as though he wants to drown himself in me.

As though he’s forcing himself to witness my rage.

I won’t stop him. If he wants to chastise himself, he deserves every ounce. I’ve already lost all my dignity, might as well enjoy it for what it is.

My eyes drift away from his in a moment of clarity, but they meet Patrick’s eyes instead, and I’m struck by how bothered he looks. He’s literally slouched in his chair, arms crossed, eyes like thin slits, lips smashed together, as though he’s barely making it through watching Noah and me … fuck.

It’s despicable, and I want to close my eyes and cover myself with a blanket, but that’s not possible.

Suddenly, Noah’s hand wraps around my chin, and he says, “Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

I gulp as he fucks me even harder, almost emblazoned by my attempt to humanize the people watching me.

“I own you now,” he murmurs.

I grimace. “You only own my body.”

His eyes twitch, but his dick hardens inside me.

“Everything you are belongs to me,” he growls, and he starts pumping like a madman.

Is he angry? Hurt that I won’t give him my heart and soul? Good. I hope it stings with just a fraction of the anger I feel.

“Look at me, Natalie,” he murmurs, his finger still on my chin as he fucks me with rhythmic strokes. “Look at your husband. Your owner. Your lover.”

And before I can say anything, he’s smashed his lips onto mine. His kisses have never been greedier, more ravenous than they are right now, and I can barely resist. Even though I try not to give in, my mouth moves along instinctively. But my eyes follow his as he glances back and forth between me and Patrick, the intensity blazing in each of his looks.

This isn’t just for show … this is to stake a claim. To tell Patrick to back off or else …

But I wonder what else could happen. So I keep staring at Patrick until the jealousy seeps through his eyes so badly he has to look away.

The spell is broken, and in that instant, Noah leans up, pins me to the bed with two hands on my throat, and thrusts into me fully. A groan escapes his mouth and a warm, wet liquid squirts into me … and I can’t … fucking … breathe.

He pants heavily, still upright and on top of me. His fingers slowly peel away from my neck, and a tear escapes my eyes as I gasp for air. The whole room is silent as I struggle to regain my breath.

“The deed is done,” the president’s voice booms again. “Noah with Natalie … husband and wife until death.”

All the patriarchs stand and one of them rings that bell again. Then they all leave through the same door we came through and close it behind them.

As if they’re expecting the newlyweds to want some more time to themselves for another fuck.

Noah gets off the bed and tucks everything back in, then zips himself up again as though nothing ever happened. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even acknowledge my existence except for a few words.

“Be ready tomorrow. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

I make a face as I crawl off the bed, but the minute I do, he turns around and walks toward the door.

“What … that’s it?” I ask, patting down my dress to regain a tiny bit of decency.

He sighs again, his head between his shoulders, almost as if something’s weighing him down. “That’s it.”

He opens the door, but then pauses again. “I … wish I didn’t have to be this way.”

Then he walks off and shuts the door.

Regrets. That’s what he leaves with?

After fucking me until he came in front of everyone, willingly … he’s the one with regrets?

My face scrunches up, and rage bubbles up to the surface and bursts out in a violent scream. I grab the pillow and punch it a few times before chucking it across the room.

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