Oblivion (Alphaholes #4)

20. Evan

20

EVAN

T here’s a smug sense of pride that fills me as I watch Sammy get dumped. Maybe if she was a little more upset, I’d feel some remorse, but despite how much I know she’ll argue with me, she doesn’t really care about him, at least not in the way she should care about someone she intended to marry.

Before Drew arrived, I arranged for a car service to be waiting near where she parked her Tesla, ready to drive her straight to the private jet that’s scheduled to take her back home. I know she won’t call me for help, so I had Bastian, Clay, and Hunter, as well as Starling, ready to inform Sammy of her travel arrangements, should she call them.

I’m not hugely surprised to find that it’s Bastian that she calls. They bicker like siblings, but he cares deeply for her, and I know he’ll be almost as pleased at her homecoming as Starling will be.

Once I’m sure she’s headed toward the car, I step out of my hiding place. “Drew,” I call, squaring my shoulders and clearing my expression as my wild one’s ex-fiancé turns to look at me.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his lips pulling down into a frown when he recognizes me. “You,” he hisses.

“Evan Morris,” I say, stepping forward and holding out my hand to him.

Just like I knew he would, he grasps my hand and shakes. Disappointingly, his grip is weak and pathetic. A part of me had wondered if he’d try to break my hand or at least do something. I sent him a picture of me snuggled with his half-naked fiancée. If it was the other way around, I’d want to kill him.

“Drew Merrick.”

“I know,” I say simply.

“You sent me those pictures?” he asks.

“I did.”

“Why?” he looks genuinely unsure and for some reason that pisses me off.

“Because she’s mine.”

Blinking, he stares up at me, confusion screaming from his body language.

“She said she didn’t cheat on me. I’m assuming she lied?”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “She didn’t lie.”

“Then why—” he starts.

“Because I can,” I state. “Because I wanted to see if you’d pick her over your career. You didn’t. But mainly because I wanted you to see just how easily I could ruin your life if you ever go near her again. Samantha Hartley doesn’t exist to you anymore. You don’t call her or text her. You lose her email address and block her on social media. If you ever try to speak to her again, I’ll ruin you, and I don’t mean I’ll share those pictures and sully her reputation. I mean I’ll ruin you. I’ll destroy your life and that of your family and everyone important to you. I’ll bankrupt you and see you living on the streets, and I’ll do it all with a smirk on my face without breaking a sweat. Because Sammy is mine, and unlike you, I’m not stupid enough not to see her worth. I’ll never let her go. I’m far too selfish to ever free her, so she’ll be mine until her dying day. Do you understand?”

As he listens to me speak, Drew’s eyes widened, and his jaw drops open in shock.

“You’re insane,” he croaks.

“Utterly.” I laugh.

“Who are you?”

“Evan Harold Morris. Google me. I quite like the picture they have of me,” I taunt.

Snickering silently to myself, I watch as he slips his cell from his coat pocket and quickly types my name into the search bar. I see the exact moment when he realizes who I am, and then watch as he clicks into the pictures of Starling and Sebastian’s wedding and sees the seven of us together.

That picture doesn’t normally come up when you search for me, but I had Clay arrange for it to be there just so Drew could see how connected to us Sammy is. The picture is one of my favorites of us all. It’s a shame that Bunny isn’t in it, but she and Hunter didn’t actually meet until the day of the wedding.

Sebastian and the rest of us are all in matching suits. Starling is in her wedding gown, and Sammy and January are in matching champagne-colored gowns. In the picture, she’s between Hunter and me, her eyes bright, her smile happy and wide. She looks nothing like the girl who just walked away. In the picture, she’s vivacious, beautiful, and free.

“I don’t understand,” Drew says, more to himself than me. “She never mentioned any of you, except for Starling.”

“That doesn’t matter now. I need you to assure me that you understand what I’ll do to you if you ever try to see her or speak to her again.”

“I don’t…” he stumbles over his words.

“Do you need me to show you how easily I can destroy your life? It’ll only take one phone call to have you kicked out of Harvard.” I click my fingers for dramatic effect.

“My parents are friends with half the members of the admissions board,” he scoffs.

“That’s great, but my dad and I used to spend winter break skiing in Aspen with the dean and his family.” I smirk. “Roger owes me a favor or two. I doubt he’d care if I called in a marker to get you expelled.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “Our families are friends. I can’t cut her out of my life.”

“I’m flying from here to speak to her family. I’m sure you can figure something out to ensure that you’re never in the same room as her again. After all, you understand the consequences if you can’t.”

Not bothering to wait around to hear his response, I pull the ring he gave my girl from my pocket and flick it at him, then I turn and walk away, not glancing back. He’s irrelevant now.

Jumping in my rental car that’s parked beside the Tesla he gifted her, I drive straight to the airport, climbing the stairs and into my plane, just as Sebastian’s jet taxis down the runway, taking my wild one home.

Nodding to the stewardess, I take a seat in the middle of the cabin and tap the screen of my cell, checking the tracking app and ensuring that Sammy is on the plane where she’s supposed to be.

I already know she is, and one of her security team is even on the plane with her, but I still check, just for my own peace of mind. Once I’ve assured myself that she’s actually on her way home, I relax, exhaling a breath as I hear the doors being shut and feel the plane start to move.

I use the flight to her parents’ place to try to decide what to say to them. Out and out lying to them feels like a mistake, but so does telling them the complete truth, so I decide that falling somewhere in the middle, offering them some truths while also telling them what they need to hear, is the best option.

Once we land, I descend the stairs and climb into the back of the car I arranged to be waiting for me. On the plane, I changed out of the jeans and T-shirt I’d been wearing and into something a little more meet-the-parents appropriate. Now I’m dressed in a button-down, pressed slacks, and a wool coat. I might be a psycho, but I know how to dress to impress, and I need Sammy’s parents to not only like me but also to understand that what I say is final and beyond question.

Once we’re outside her parents’ house, I wait for the driver to open the door, then step out, stride up the driveway, and knock on the front door. It’s almost eight p.m., which is a little late for an unexpected visit, but I want to get this sorted as soon as possible so I can get home to my wild one.

It takes a couple of minutes, but the door eventually opens revealing, Sammy’s dad.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his tone cautiously polite.

“Hello, sir. I apologize for the late visit, but my name is Evan Morris. I’m a friend of your daughter.”

His brows draw together. “Samantha isn’t here. She’s starting school at Harvard.”

“That’s actually what I came to talk to you about. May I come in?”

Clearing his throat, he glances at me, then turns to look behind him. “Of, err, of course. What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Evan Morris. I believe that you may know my father, Harry Morris.”

“Of Morris Enterprises?” he asks, slight disbelief in his tone.

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes widen as he pushes the door open and steps aside. “Come in. You say you’re friends with Samantha?” he asks.

“Yes, sir, we met at Kingsacre.”

“Let’s sit in my office. I’ll ask my wife to bring us some coffee,” he says, more cordial now that he knows who I am.

“That would be great. Thank you, Mr. Hartley.”

His office is exactly what I was expecting. Dark wood, impressive antique desk, and comfortable leather chairs. However, instead of taking the seat behind his desk, he takes the one beside me. “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll just call and ask for that coffee,” he says, picking up an old-fashioned phone from the desk and pressing a single button on the receiver.

I’m assuming it’s some kind of intercom system when he starts speaking into it and I hear the sound of a female voice speaking back. The Hartleys don’t have live-in staff, and in my opinion, this house isn’t big enough to require an intercom, but I guess it must work for them.

“You wanted to talk to me about my daughter?” he asks bluntly.

“Yes, sir, I do. I’m actually not entirely sure what Sammy’s told you about her time at Kingsacre…” I leave the statement open-ended, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks, which he immediately does.

“She was living on campus with the Attingham girls and some boys. I don’t approve of co-ed housing, but as it’s all they offer at Kingsacre, we had to concede.”

“Actually, Sammy only lived in Alistern House for a matter of weeks. Shortly after arriving at Kingsacre, Sammy became friends with my stepsister, Starling, and when we realized her living situation was less than ideal, we moved her into our house.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Hartley questions, his voice rising two octaves.

“My family is Kingsacre legacy, and as such, we have a private residence on campus that we share with our close friends, the Lockwood, Jansen, and Rossberg families. My stepsister Starling moved in with us when she started at the school, and as we had a spare room, we invited Sammy to move in too, which she did a few weeks after school started.”

“She would have told us—” he starts.

“I believe she was concerned that if she told you about her dissatisfaction with her living arrangements, you may encourage her to leave school and come home.”

Mr. Hartley’s expression opens, then immediately closes again. “While I appreciate you telling me the truth about where my daughter has been living, I’m unsure why it’s relevant information. She’s recently engaged and starting Harvard with her fiancé this week.”

Making a soft sound of sympathy, I exhale dramatically. “Actually, sir, I’m afraid none of that is true anymore.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Mr. Merrick and Sammy’s engagement actually ended earlier this evening. I’m sure you’re aware of Mr. Merrick’s political aspirations. Well, it seems that after polling his future constituents, Mr. Merrick and his team have decided that Sammy does not poll well. That her taking a semester off school while you were unwell appears like a lie to cover up an unplanned pregnancy or drug addiction. He and his father’s PR team feel that instead of Sammy helping his campaign, it would in fact hinder it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he roars angrily.

“Mr. Hartley, may I be frank?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat.

“Please,” he says, gesturing for me to speak.

“I have been in love with your daughter since the very first time I met her. I believe she feels the same way for me, but she’s scared that our lifestyles are too different and that she would feel like an outsider. She expressed her concerns about introducing me and our friends to you and your wife, but honestly, I believe her worries are silly.”

“Evan, she’s engaged.”

“When Sammy flew back to California at the end of the summer, it was to attend the wedding of one of our friends. As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s very common in our social sphere to marry young without considering love and thinking more of connection and gain.”

Mr. Hartley nods, like he’s buying all the bullshit I’m slinging, so I carry on.

“At the time, she said that she was considering transferring to Harvard, as she felt that the school would give her a better chance of securing a good job, and that although she loved us all, she feared she could never truly be one of us. I’m not entirely sure when she and Mr. Merrick rekindled their high school relationship, but I believe it was as a direct result of her uncertainty over her place in my life.”

“Evan, is there a point to all of this?” he asks.

“Yes, sir. The point is that Sammy isn’t in love with Drew. She was marrying him to ensure herself a life she understood and which she felt comfortable in instead of pursuing a relationship with me.”

I wait for outrage or shock that his daughter would marry someone she didn’t care about, just to ensure her future, but if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

“Mr. Hartley, when Mr. Merrick ended his and Sammy’s engagement earlier tonight, he had already taken it upon himself to decline her place at Harvard on her behalf and had arranged for movers to take all of her belongings to a hotel.”

“He what?” he gasps, finally showing some emotion.

“Don’t worry. She’s not in a hotel. She’s actually on her way to California where she will be starting the new semester back at Kingsacre. She will be living in Collinswood House with us, and once I can convince her that she has a place at the very center of my world, I hope to persuade her to marry me.”

Shaking his head, Mr. Hartley looks like his head is about to explode. “Home. She should come home so we can straighten all of this out. I’ll speak to John and Drew, and we’ll set things right.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening.”

“What?”

“I don’t tolerate the people I care about being treated badly. Drew Merrick and his father cast Sammy aside in favor of nameless and faceless voters. I will not allow him to do anything to disparage her reputation or hurt her again. I have spoken to Drew and informed him that he is no longer a part of Sammy’s life and what the consequences of him trying to contact her would be. While I respect your friendship with him and his family, I urge you not to encourage his trying to maintain any kind of relationship with her.”

“John Merrick is the mayor. He has influence over the allocation of work contracts?—”

“Mr. Hartley, do you golf?” I ask with a wide smile.

“I do, yes, but?—”

“My father and some of his associates have a regular game in a few weeks. They’ll be in Washington, DC, to play at the Congressional Country Club. Perhaps you’d like to join them?”

Blinking, he stares at me. “What?” Then he nods. “I would…Yes, that…I’d like that a great deal.”

“Perfect, if you give me your contact details, or that of your PA, I’ll have my father’s PA contact you with the dates,” I say, offering him a blinding smile.

“Well, yes?—”

His rambling, shocked reply is interrupted when the door opens and Sammy’s mom strides confidently inside, carrying a silver tea tray.

“Elizabeth, let me introduce you to Evan Morris. He’s a friend of Sammy’s from school. His family own Morris Enterprises.”

Pushing out of my chair, I rush to Sammy’s mom and take the tray from her hands. “Please, let me help you.” Placing it down on the desk, I turn back to her and hold out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Hartley. Sammy has spoken about you very often.” It’s another lie because, beyond mentioning that her parents like her to dress conservatively, she’s never mentioned her mom in detail.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too,” she says, her accent thick with a melodic Southern twang.

“Evan came to let us know that Sammy has decided to finish her degree at Kingsacre with her friends,” Mr. Hartley says, flashing his wife a pointed look that silently lets her know he’ll tell her the details later.

“Well, I…” she gasps, then trails off.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, beyond letting you know about Sammy’s change of plans, I also came here to officially ask you for your permission to pursue a relationship with your daughter and hopefully convince her to marry me. Given your knowledge of my family, I can assure you that I am in a more than comfortable position to be able to ensure Sammy a happy and fulfilled life. I know we’re young, but I know that Sammy is meant to be my wife, and I hope to make her mine as soon as possible, assuming you give your consent.”

Honestly, I don’t give a fuck about their permission, but I refuse to allow anyone to get in the way of me claiming my woman, and if that means sucking up to her parents and helping her dad find some business connections, then I’m more than happy to do it. It’s certainly easier than having them hate me the way Starling’s dad hates Sebastian.

“But she’s engaged,” her mom says.

“I’ll let your husband explain the details, but as of a few hours ago, her engagement ended, and I’ve accepted her return to Kingsacre as her giving me the green light to explore our relationship.”

Mr. Hartley glances at his wife before he focuses on me again. “Yes, I’m happy to give you my permission to pursue her. You seem like a nice boy, and I’m aware of your family’s reputation. But I’d like to speak to my daughter, perhaps even visit her in California?—”

“I’d be happy to arrange for my family’s private jet to bring you to California whenever you’d like to come. I just ask that you give Sammy a few weeks to get settled back into school.”

Clearing his throat again, he says. “She gave up her place at Kingsacre…”

“Please, don’t worry. Dean Livingstone is a personal friend, and I’ve already spoken to him about her coming back.”

“Well, okay. I’ll arrange a check?—”

Lifting my hand, I cut him off, “Her tuition for the rest of her degree has already been taken care of, and as our house on campus is privately owned, there are no housing dues.”

“No, that’s?—”

“Sir, it’s already been taken care of,” I assure him. “All I needed was your blessing.”

“Have you eaten? Can I make you something?” Mrs. Hartley asks, her expression a mix of bewilderment, anger, and awe. She may not know who I am, but she understands the power that comes with wealth and privilege. She may have been looking forward to Sammy and Drew getting married and living vicariously through their success, but she’s a smart woman, and although I’d guess part of her wants to tell me to go to hell, the other half recognizes that I could be a very valuable asset.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I actually need to get back to the airport. The jet is waiting to take me back to California, and I’m eager to get home. I’ll have Sammy call you as soon as she’s settled. It’s been lovely to meet you both,” I say, shaking her dad’s hand before I lift her mom’s hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. “I look forward to seeing you again when you visit. Let me leave you a card, and you can send me your PA’s contact details to schedule those eighteen holes,” I say, pulling a business card from my pocket and handing it to Sammy’s dad.

Ten minutes later, I’m chuckling to myself as my driver speeds down the freeway toward the airport. It’s a five-hour flight back to California, so it’ll be the middle of the night by the time I get back to school, but I don’t care. Sammy’s home and there to stay. So far, everything is going to plan.

The house is dark and quiet as I open the front door and step inside. The familiar scent of home hits me, and I inhale deeply, letting the smell of old wood and history settle over me. I haven’t always been entirely happy at Kingsacre, but I do love it here.

Being in this house but free of most of the turmoil and guilt that has kept me caged is odd but strangely evocative. Two weeks ago, there was no way I’d have allowed my feet to carry me up three flights of stairs to the turret that houses Sammy’s room, but as I open the lock on her door with the app on my cell, I don’t feel anything holding me back.

Her bedroom is dark, but instead of being asleep, she’s awake, sitting up in the bed, like she’s been waiting for me, and maybe she has.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she says the moment I climb the final step into her room.

“Probably.” I shrug.

“You don’t care, do you? You don’t care that you just ruined everything?”

“I spoke with your parents. They’ll be coming to visit in a few weeks.”

“What?” she gasps, sitting up straighter and twisting her bare legs beneath her as she turns to fully face me.

“I explained the situation?—”

“You told them that you sent my fiancé awful pictures that made me look like a slut so he’d dump me?” she hisses.

“I explained that Drew and his father, in conjunction with their PR team, decided that your engagement wasn’t polling well and that you’d broken up. Then I told them that you’d be living here, with us, and that you’ll continue to do so until you’ve graduated.”

“And they were just okay with that?” she asks sarcastically.

“Perfectly okay, which I’m sure they’ll confirm with you when you call them.”

“I don’t want this, Evan. I don’t want you,” she says, her voice thickening with emotion.

“Yes, you do. You want me as much as I want you. But you didn’t want me shackled. You want every single unhinged inch of me. You want the toxic love, the obsessive control, and the crazy, intense, intoxicated oblivion. And now that’s exactly what you’ll get. Only if you thought my brothers were psycho, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Oh, yes,” I say, closing the distance between us, shucking my clothes off as I walk.

“Go away, Evan. You’re not sleeping in here.”

“I am, and you can sleep beside me, or I can sleep inside of you. I’m down for either option. My dick is excited to fuck you, but I’ve learned in the last year that I’m a bit of a masochist, so I’m okay with torturing us both with a little cock warming.”

“What the hell is cock warming,” she gasps.

“It’s where I’d push my hard cock into your pussy, or your ass, but I wouldn’t fuck you. We’d just cuddle, then fall asleep like that.”

“What’s the point?”

“You’d fall asleep stretched full of my cock, feeling how much you belong to me right until your slip into unconsciousness, and I’d fall asleep with my dick being hugged by one of your tight holes, knowing that I can take you any how I want, and you’d let me.”

“We’re not doing that,” she snaps, shuffling backward across the bed as I kick off my shoes and push down my slacks.

“Maybe not tonight, but soon.”

“No, never. You need to go downstairs and sleep in your own room.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll move your stuff down there, but tonight, I’m too tired to care what room we sleep in.”

“There’s no us Evan. There’s you, and then there’s me. That’s it.”

Inhaling, I sigh loudly. “There’s never just been you and me. It’s always been us, right since the very first time I saw you. You felt it that day in the foyer. I know you did. That’s why every time you flirt or dance or kiss another guy, you look for me first to make sure I’m watching. You don’t care about them. You just want me to see you give yourself to them. Because since the first time we met, you’ve been daring me to claim you, and now I have. So, from now on, there will be no other men but me, Sammy. No more dances with anyone but me. No more grinding on anyone but me. No more kissing anyone but me.”

“And if I do?”

“You won’t.”

“How exactly are you planning on stopping me? I could kiss the first guy I see in class tomorrow, and there’s no way you could stop me.”

“If you so much as push your pretty little nail against the arm of another man, then I’ll ruin his life. It doesn’t matter that it’ll be you who touched him. It doesn’t matter that he’ll have done nothing wrong. I’ll destroy him. I’ll get him kicked out of school, bankrupt his family, evict him from his house. I’ll ruin his siblings’ lives, his parents’ and grandparents’ lives. I’ll systematically annihilate his world, and it’ll be your fault. I’ll do it over and over again to anyone you try to offer yourself to, and I won’t stop until there’s a trail of destruction in my wake and you learn that you belong to me .” I shout the last three words, not caring that all the color has drained from her face. Not caring that I really do sound like a psychopath. I’m more than willing to scare her once so that I don’t have to follow through on my threats. Because the truth is, I’ll happily do everything I just told her I would, and I know she knows that.

“So, am I a prisoner now, like Starling and the others were?”

I chuckle. “I don’t need to cage you, Wild One. You’re already bound to me, and now you know the consequences of escape.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, but it’s not hate in her eyes. It’s heat and excitement and fear. She’s as scared as she is turned on. My wild one doesn’t want to be tamed, almost as much as she doesn’t actually want to be free.

“You don’t look hateful. You look horny. Shall I make you come? I don’t care if it’s an angry orgasm. It’ll still taste the same all over my face.”

Her breath hitches, and her cheeks turn pink. The light is too dim to see her eyes fully, but I’d bet her pupils are blown wide and full of excitement.

“When was the last time he made you scream? When was the last time he pinned you to the bed and destroyed your wet cunt with his cock? Did he ever? Did he even try?”

“Shut up,” she gasps.

Pushing down my boxers, I let my hard dick pop free, not bothering to try and hide my weeping erection. “Oh, Wild One, he didn’t, did he? All these months and he never fucked you like a man should fuck his woman. He never left you a wet, cum soaked, depraved mess, did he? Let me take care of you. Let me look after you like you should be looked after, and I’ll let you pretend to hate me again as soon as I’m done.” Chuckling, I lift my knee and climb onto the mattress, slowly pursuing her as she foolishly tries to back away from me.

“No,” she says, shaking her head, even as her legs part, revealing the dark fabric of the shorts that are hiding her from my view.

“Let me give you what you need,” I coax, slowly peeling her tank up and over her head.

“No,” she says again even as she lifts her butt, helping me to peel her shorts off.

“Mine,” I whisper, “All fucking mine.” Dipping my head to her soaked core, I lick her from clit to ass, cleaning her folds of the arousal that’s coating her cunt. Her keening cry is like music to my ears, but instead of gently eating her, I push two fingers into my mouth, then force them into her cunt, loving the gasping pant that bursts from her shocked mouth as she arches off the bed forcing her cunt into my face.

Plunging my fingers in and out of her core, I lap up all of the cream that’s dripping from her, sucking at her clit ruthlessly as she rolls her hips, pushing my fingers deeper into her as she grinds her clit against my tongue.

No matter what she says once this is done, she’s not a passive participant, and I’m not forcing her or taking advantage. She’s soaking wet and so turned on I could fill a shot glass with her arousal and drink it as a chaser. She wants this, me, just as much as I want her, and my dick twitches excitedly at the idea of finally getting inside of her.

Instead of words, the sounds coming out of her mouth are plaintive, animalistic wails. I feel it the moment her orgasm hits, her internal muscles clenching and quivering as her wails become guttural groans of desperate pleasure. Finding her clit with my teeth, I scrape across the bundle of nerves and she explodes, screaming, her head thrown back in unadulterated pleasure.

Incapable of holding back, I pull my fingers out of her body and wipe my soaked face with the back of my hand. Positioning myself between her thighs, I palm my dick and wait for her to calm enough to see me.

When her feral eyes drop to my dick gripped in my fingers, she shakes her head. “No, that’s too big. You’ll hurt me.”

“I stretched you out. I’ll fit. My thick cock will slide straight into your wet little kitty, and you’ll purr for me. I don’t need you to beg. I want to hear you tell me how much you love it when I fuck you, and when I come, I’m going to stuff you full of me. I’ve got over a year’s worth of cum to fill you with, and I can’t wait until it’s gushing out of you with every breath you take for the rest of the night.”

She’s had enough time to say no and mean it, but she hasn’t. She can deny it all she wants, but she craves me. She wants me crazy, and right now, I’m downright certifiable. Guiding the head of my dick to her entrance, I line myself up, then slam into her, filling her completely in a single thrust.

Instead of pushing me away or screaming, my wild one’s eyes light on fire, and her legs wrap around my waist, pinning me in place while I hold myself deep inside of her.

“You’re all mine now, Sammy. That was your last chance to keep me at bay, but now that I know how it feels to have my dick in you, the gloves are completely off. I own you. You’re mine, and I’ll never fucking let you go.”

Pulling back, I slam forward, finding her clit with my thumb as I hold her hip tightly with my other hand. “Fuck, Sammy, your cunt wants my cum, doesn’t it? You want me to fill you up. You want to milk my seed out of me so you can claim me as yours, so you can know how it feels to be claimed.”

Her moans become cries then desperate mewls that make my dick twitch, ready to explode. “Look how well your cunt it taking me, Wild One. I’m taming this hole more and more every time I push into you. By the time you’re full of me, you’ll be begging me to brand you with my name so everyone in the world can see just how much you belong to me.”

Her whimper of need is music to my ears.

“I almost did it the other night. I already have the brand ready to burn into your skin. I’m going to pierce your clit too, and put my initials on the hoop I put through it. I’m going to mark you over and over until you’ll never be able to look at yourself without seeing me. I’ve spent years neutered by my guilt, but not anymore, and you’ll feel the full impact of my freedom. You’ll be a willing prisoner, my perfect captive, my tamed wildness. Mine.”

Her cunt pulses and tightens as I fuck her, and when she comes, I follow suit, my balls tightening, cum surging up my cock and pulsing out of me in hot spurts. “Fuck, yes, take it, Sammy. Take all of my cum. You’ve earned it baby. You deserve it for waiting all this time for me to make you mine.”

Tears stream down her cheeks as she screams her release, her nails gripping my forearms, branding me with crescent-shaped marks. When the last drops of my release fill her, I fall forward, bracing myself on my elbows over her.

Fascinated, I watch as her body slowly relaxes, her clenched thighs gradually untensing as she releases her death grip on me. It feels like it takes a lifetime for her eyelids to flutter open, but when they do, I suck in a sharp breath at the look in her eyes.

“What did you do?” she whispers, her voice hoarse and rough.

“What we both needed me to do,” I reply, unrepentant.

“I was happy.”

“No, you weren’t. You were running, and you’ve seen what happens to the women in our lives who try to run from us.”

She’s not fighting me as hard as I was expecting her to, but maybe I just fucked all of the sass out of her. Or maybe she understands that this was simply inevitable. Either way, I enjoy the moment of submission and dip my lips to hers.

Truthfully, I’ve never understood the hype about kissing. Trying to figure out someone else’s rhythm has always felt clumsy and awkward. But not now. The moment my lips touch Sammy’s, it’s like I’ve kissed her a million times before. Her lips part and her tongue greets mine like it’s missed its presence in her mouth and is frantic for its return. My fingers are buried in her hair, but I don’t have to demand her compliance. Instead she tilts her head to allow me to deepen the kiss, like she’s just as desperate for it as I am.

Nipping at her lip, I drag myself from her mouth. Finding her pulse, I suck and nip at her lifeforce, silently informing it that it belongs to me now while her hands find my head, sharp nails raking deliciously across my scalp.

Now that I’m inside of her, her body is full of my cum, my seed hopefully burying itself deeper into her body and making her mine for the rest of our lives in a very permanent way. I feel the deep-seated frantic need I’ve felt since Starling gave me her blessing to do anything I needed to do to bring her home start to ebb.

I know she’ll truly hate me once she finds out I’ve had her IUD removed and that I plan to fill her with my baby, but she’ll get over it. She said she didn’t feel like she belonged, and this is how I’ll make sure she understands she’s truly one of us. I’ll get her pregnant with my heir, and with the life that she’ll make, our blood, family, and futures will be so bound together that she’ll forget when we were two people instead of just one.

Moving back to her mouth, I slip my tongue between her lips and kiss her soft and slow, so differently from the way I just used her body. Instead of howls of desperate pleasure, her kitten mewls are soft and sexy, and my dick starts to harden again.

Slipping my arms beneath her knees, I lift her legs and slowly grind my hardening dick, keeping my mouth on hers as I fuck her in druggingly slow rolls of my hips. She’s so wet with my cum and her arousal that her cunt feels like a deliciously warm hug around my cock, and I vow to make this last, to hold myself back and enjoy the sensation.

Despite the lack of anger-fueled intensity, this feels more intimate. I’ve above her, over her, in her, my dick filling her, my arms immobilizing her, my lips owning her. I fuck her and kiss her until my lips feel raw and my balls are screaming with the need to come, but this time isn’t about release. This is about us connecting, sharing something, truly becoming one in the most intimate way, and if this is how our child is conceived, then it’s fucking perfect.

When she comes for the second time, I swallow her cries, pushing the sound back into her mouth with my eager tongue. When I finally follow her over the edge, it feels like my release lasts for hours, and when I’m finally finished, I can feel my cum fighting to escape her cunt around my softening cock.

“Evan,” Sammy says when I drag my lips from hers.

“Go to sleep. We’ll figure this all out in the morning.” Rolling us to the side, just enough that I’m not crushing her with my weight, I wrap my arms around her, cradling her head to my chest as I allow my eyes to slip shut and sleep to take me.