My Dark Divine

58. West

I never intended to give my heart to anyone. But as I look at the woman standing before me, adorned in a flowing white silk dress and finishing off the cake we just cut moments ago, I find myself believing she has my fucking heart.

Irrevocably and unconditionally.

She’s eating the cake with her bare hands, her eyes fixed on her father, whom she’s been rebelling against for the past few hours. He’s powerless to act in public, and she’s been taking full advantage, saying whatever she wants and behaving as she pleases.

I’ve been right there with her, supporting her every step of the way. It’s been a sleepless night for both of us, poring over the flash drive Eli provided and dissecting every piece of information it contained. For someone I once despised, the fucker managed to gather an impressive amount of evidence. There are photos, recordings, and copies of documents—enough to put my father and his accomplices behind bars. We’re planning to release it all, to strike before they have a chance to retaliate. And then, all our focus will be on coming back to life after a powerful blow to both of our companies.

But today, I’m pushing these thoughts aside. We’re surrounded by people buzzing around us like incessant flies, all fighting for our attention. The constant chatter from the dozens of guests feels like a persistent hum gnawing at my nerves. The only thing keeping me grounded is Venetia by my side. If it weren’t for her, I would have already snapped and stormed off—either to lash out at someone or to get high again.

She makes everything easier. The urge remains, pushing relentlessly against my skull, trying to tear through the fragile barrier of composure I’ve set up. After years of addiction, I know that keeping my sobriety won’t be a walk in the park.

But she motivates me. She inspires me to try harder and be better. We’ve been through so much together, and I never thought I’d find such joy in seeing her in a wedding dress. The white silk enhances her allure without changing who she is—she’s still the Venetia I know: a wild little serpent with a tattoo on her hand, sharp nails, and that daring glint in her eyes.

She’s not a fragile angel. She’s my Lilith, a force to be reckoned with. We’re equals, forged in the fires of our own making.

My gaze flicks to her hair, and a wide, idiotic grin spreads across my face as I remember the hairpin she once used to stab me. Every time I see it, I feel a swarm of ants dancing beneath my skin, igniting a warmth that spreads like an electric current through my veins.

She knows I remember that this is the same hairpin. And she definitely knows it turns me on—the memory of what she did to me with it—right here, right now, while we’re still surrounded by all these idiots. I’ve managed to keep my composure for a long fucking time. It’s been hours since we went through the traditional wedding nonsense and listened to everyone’s meaningless chatter.

I’m tired of watching her give attention to everyone else. She’s spent too long trying to annoy her dad, chatting with her best friend, talking to my grandma, and mingling with random guests she doesn’t even know. That’s more than enough.

I want her all to myself, and I refuse to wait any longer.

We can sneak away. The ceremony was held outside, but this wedding is an extravagant event, and our parents have gone all out to make it as fancy as possible. Aside from the guest house and the expansive outdoor veranda, we have the entire mansion to ourselves for the next twenty-four hours. Inside, there’s a little surprise waiting for her—the one she’s unaware of.

The distance between us shrinks as my hand finds her waist, pulling her closer. “We need to get out of here,” I whisper, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in the scent of cherries. “I missed you.”

Her laughter fills the air, echoing in my chest. “We’ve been together this entire time, silly.”

I angle my face toward hers, noticing the mischievous sparkle in her gaze, and my cock twitches in my pants, urging me to persuade her faster. “You know what I mean,” I say, slightly tightening my grip on her waist. “Come on, baby girl. I can’t fucking wait any longer.”

The sparkle in her eyes intensifies, and I take a deep breath, realizing this little serpent is about to throw me a challenge. “Do you really think I’ll do it just because you said so?” she teases, stepping away. I let my hand slide from her waist, offering her the illusion of freedom. “Try to catch me first.”

She whirls around in a sudden burst of movement, drawing all eyes to her. The silk dress billows behind her as she sprints away, making a dramatic escape from the suffocating boredom of the space. Their chatter fades, replaced by the stunned silence of their gaping stares.

The bride has dashed from the wedding she’d been eagerly awaiting. I can already imagine the gossip spreading through the media like an out-of-control blaze.

With a bite of my lower lip, I follow her, keeping my steps deliberate. She may be fast, but I’ll close the distance easily with my longer strides.

I block out the questions tumbling from her dad’s mouth, his attempts to keep up with me failing. Inside, amusement, arousal, and raw, primal desire blend into something explosive—a force I’m eager to release on her.

In no time, we leave everyone behind, the air filled only with her soft giggles and breathless gasps as she realizes I’m catching up to her. The thrill of chasing her is unlike anything else, knowing I’ll catch her and claim her as mine—because she’s officially my fucking wife .

I reach her effortlessly, my hand firm on her waist as I lift her off the ground. She screams, but I ignore it, leaning in close to her ear. “Got you, baby girl,” I whisper, relishing the goosebumps that rise on her skin at the sound of my voice. “Now, let me remind you what it means to be mine .”

I carry her into the mansion with ease, and she tries to squirm free, smacking my arm and laughing. Her smile is so dazzling that I swear a plant of wilted flowers nearby just began to bloom again. It’s fucking surreal to realize I’m the one responsible for making her so happy.

I slam my hand against the front door, flinging it open with a satisfying groan. The air is thick with the scent of roses, a crimson pathway leading to the flickering flames of candles, casting an ethereal glow across the meticulously clean, luxurious, and spacious interior.

An impeccable stage for the perfect start.

I didn’t choose the mansion, but I was the one who filled it with all the romantic shit. I had no clue how to do it properly, but I put in some thought and effort, hoping she’d appreciate the little touches.

Right now, though, I doubt she’s thinking about any of that.

She won’t stop laughing and wriggling in my grip, and while I enjoy the sound of her joy, right now, I crave the screams of pleasure more. I shove her against the wall, my body crashing into hers, letting her feel every inch of my mania. Her laughter dies on her lips, replaced by a soft, quiet moan as she braces herself against the wall, palms flat against the surface.

My hands claim her, exploring every inch of her, squeezing, groping, as if discovering her for the first time. She gasps as my hand cups her breast, my other hand framing her face, fingers pressing into her cheeks, savoring the tremors that ripple through her body. Holding her firmly, I tilt her face closer, my lips crashing against hers. I can feel every muscle in her neck tighten as she struggles to stay steady in this uncomfortable position, but I can’t focus on what’s best for her right now.

I just want to give everything to her and watch as she takes it from me.

She can barely keep up with my pace as I ravage her mouth, bruising her tender skin. I sink my teeth in, nipping at her bottom lip before moving to the top, squeezing, biting, and savoring until I taste the copper warmth of blood. My tongue traces her lips, leaving a smoldering trail of desire.

I pull back, my hand tracing the curve of her body in a slow, deliberate descent to her hip, while my other hand moves to her neck. “Look at you,” I whisper, my voice a breathy caress as I deliver a rough slap to her ass, sending a thrill through her body.

She writhes in a desperate attempt to break free, and I trace the spot where I slapped her, slowly massaging the sting. “You love trying to run away from me, don’t you?” I growl, slapping her ass again. Her cry is fucking music to my ears, and I press myself closer, relishing the heat of her body and the way she trembles beneath me. “You love it just as much as you love what I do to you after you fail. My dirty fucking girl.”

I pull back before spinning her around and slamming her against the wall, my hands claiming her wrists above her head. Her eyes are half-closed, her lips parted, bruised, and bloodied. She looks up at me, a silent plea in her gaze—a plea I’m eager to answer, to deepen the connection.

“So perfect,” I taunt, letting my eyes rake over her disheveled appearance. The messy hair, flushed face, and wrinkled dress—it’s hard to believe she was pristine just moments ago. She looks up, her lips searching for mine, and I let out a low chuckle that brushes against her mouth before pulling back. “And so fucking needy. I’ve gotten too soft with you, baby girl. Don’t you think it’s time I remind you of what you signed up for?”

I taste the fear coursing through her, its grip tightening in her veins and gradually taking over. She’s scared of me, and that’s what turns her on.

“Drop to your knees, my girl,” I demand, weaving my fingers through her hair and grabbing a handful of strands. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

Without waiting for her to comply, I yank her down, forcing her onto her knees. She cries out, a sound of surrender blended with pure desire, her palms pressing against the floor as her eyes meet mine. I pull my pants down, and her gaze drops to my hands as I do, her tongue darting out as she slowly—so fucking slowly—wets her lips.

Fuck me . Intimacy with her is incredible, not just because of the pleasure we give each other, but also because of how much she invests in the process, offering all of herself to me as I do the same for her. I’ve told her that we’re equal, but I can’t help doubting my own words.

Who is she, if not a goddess who effortlessly breathes life into me?

“Give me that pretty mouth of yours,” I breathe, watching as she moves closer to my cock and wraps her lips around it. My eyes roll back when she swirls her tongue around the tip, hollowing her cheeks to suck up the pre-cum. “Fuck, that’s it, baby, make me feel good. Make me fucking proud of my wife.”

Her muffled moan wraps around my length. She explores every inch of me, her tongue a brushstroke, tracing paths up and down before returning to the tip. Her lips feel like the best thing I’ve ever experienced, sending me straight into fucking oblivion, and I can feel my knees weaken.

With each move she makes, my control unravels. Each second she grows bolder, pulling me from her mouth just to spit on my cock before her hand smears it across my length. My head falls back as she takes me all the way in, gagging with the effort while helping herself with her hand and giving me slow, long strokes. I want to see her eyes water, but I can’t focus on that—not when the sensation feels so fucking overwhelming. I become too tired to hold my head up, my muscles crying out in nagging pain that spreads in waves.

When her hand moves to my balls, kneading them and sending an electric ripple through me, I snap. Grabbing her by her hair, I yank her head back, forcing her to release me from her mouth. The loss of her warmth sends a wave of agony through my body.

But I don’t want to come. Not yet.

I pull my pants back on, ready to shift my attention. She’s panting as I lift her up and slam her back against the wall, sending a shudder through the room. My fingers reach for the hairpin, now hanging loosely from her dark strands, practically begging to be removed. A low laugh escapes my chest as I remove it and bring it to her face. “I remember what you did to me,” I say, watching fear etch itself onto her face. “You thought you could taunt me without consequences?”

Her mind is too clouded to process my intentions as my hand travels down, lifting her dress and exposing her bare pussy. She’s wearing no underwear, and for some fucking reason, it turns me on even more.

Twisting the sharp tip until it faces my palm, I place the hairpin between her legs and push it inside her. She squirms, crying out in discomfort, and I place my thumb on her clit, rubbing a slow circle across it. “Keep your legs open,” I command, barely containing a groan at how fucking wet she is. My thumb is seconds from sliding off. “Let it in.”

“West, you’re fucking insane!” she yelps, throwing her head back, her eyes closing as I balance her pain with pleasure. “Fuck, I can’t?—”

“You can ,” I cut in, maintaining a steady, firm pace as I work it in slowly. “And you will take this punishment like a good fucking girl you are, Venetia.”

Gradually, with my measured pace, her body begins to relax, and she wraps her arms around my neck, seeking something to hold on to as I start to fuck her harder.

“What will you learn from this?” I ask, cupping the side of her face with my free hand and brushing my thumb across her cheek to wipe away the glistening tear.

“Don’t stab you,” she squeaks out weakly, a gasp tearing from her throat when I hit that spot. “I can’t stab you.”

The way she interprets it makes me laugh. She sounds so innocent, so fragile, especially when she’s trapped like this. “Not without my permission,” I correct her.

She lets out a soft whimper, her eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure crash over her, melting away all her tension. She opens up, like the first bud of spring blossoming under the sun’s touch, letting me in—her trust the only drug I’ll never stop craving.

I work the hairpin in and out, feeling her juices slick its length. Her face contorts with every thrust in a fucking masterpiece of surrender, telling me she’s close, and I struggle to hold myself back. Not being inside her when she’s practically begging for me to is torture—one I’m not sure how long I can endure.

My mouth is a force of its own, claiming her lips in a searing, bruising kiss. My tongue circles hers, and I press harder, feeling her lose control, her knees buckling, her nails digging into my shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold on.

Her throat tightens, and a little squeak breaks free as she tenses like a taut string. My final circle on her clit sends her spiraling, her cheeks burning crimson as she reaches her peak, her body convulsing around the hairpin. I feel the strain in her body, the desperate moans she can’t contain, and I push even deeper, drawing out her orgasm until she’s clawing at my face, begging for me to stop.

When I pull back, her body shudders with aftershocks, her hands clutching my neck. Her half-mast eyes follow me as I lift the drenched hairpin and suck it clean, desperate to prolong the sweet taste of her punishment.

A hard swallow travels down her throat, and her lashes flutter as the corners of her lips try to form a weak smile. “That makes us square,” she breathes, sounding like she’s on the verge of blacking out.

I laugh, dropping the hairpin to the floor before wrapping my hands around her waist and lifting her up. “I’m not done with you yet,” I say, and the intoxicating, mind-fucking fear returns to her face.

I carry her to the bathroom, where the second part of my little surprise is waiting, pausing briefly to scan the room once we enter. It’s bathed in the soft, seductive glow of neon lights, casting an ethereal hue that dances across every surface. The jacuzzi sits at the center, its water shimmering under the light, steam curling upward in delicate wisps. The colors shift, casting different shadows on the furniture and reflecting the glow off the sleek walls.

I’ve never paid attention to such things, but fuck, this place feels perfect for having her here.

I place her on the edge of the hot tub, and she doesn’t hesitate. Her little hands reach for my blazer, pulling it off before focusing on my shirt, stripping the rest of my clothes away. The shirt is only halfway unbuttoned when impatience takes over—I rip the fabric apart, ignoring the buttons as they scatter across the floor.

She gasps when I do the same to her dress which is no longer white.

“Get in,” I command, and she complies instantly, knowing better than to argue with me—especially now, when I’m on the brink of fucking insanity. I finish with the rest of my clothes, my body humming and trembling with impatience.

My hand slides under the jacuzzi to retrieve the remote for the speakers, and even as I focus on the buttons, I can feel her watching me intently.

“West?” she calls, suspicion creeping into her melodic voice. When I finally turn on the music, its soft beat begins to pulse through the speakers, and she gasps in surprise.

Yes, I do remember the exact songs she played that night at the motel, mostly because our music tastes are so alike. And yes, as cheesy as it might sound, I set up the speakers in this room because I genuinely thought she would love it.

I follow her into the water, the wave of scorching heat pleasantly numbing my body. For a moment, black rims edge my vision, and I blink them away, wondering how the fuck I’m still holding it together.

I’ve never wanted to be inside her so desperately.

Sitting down, I shift into a comfortable position, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her onto my lap. “Sit down on it, baby. I can’t fucking wait any longer.”

“You’re such a romantic,” she says, allowing herself to take a moment. I’m seconds from passing out and she wants to fucking talk about the bare minimum I did. “I… Thank you. It’s?—”

“Baby, whether you’re doing it yourself or I’m rearranging your organs,” I cut in. “Sit. Down.”

The threat does its job, and finally, she obeys, balancing her weight as she sinks onto my cock. A groan catches in my throat, and I bite my lower lip, tasting copper as the sensation of her body sucking me in takes over. The warmth of the water blends with the heat of our bodies as she melts into me, gradually pushing herself down.

“Fuck,” she moans, every muscle in her body trembling as I stretch her. “It’s—It’s too fucking much?—”

My hands move under the water, brushing across her inner thighs, gently widening her legs and easing the tension. “You can do it,” I assure, my voice quivering with need. With every inch she takes, I turn into a fucking mess. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

She whimpers in response, her eyes squeezing shut as her consciousness begins to slip away. “West?—”

I cut her off when my fingers find her clit and give it a sharp pinch, earning a visceral reaction from her body. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes!” she yelps, and I ease the pain, rubbing a soothing circle across that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Open wider and let me in, then,” I breathe, grabbing her jaw with my other hand and pulling her closer, crashing her lips onto mine. “Show me how good you can be for me.”

As my words ignite her, she gradually surrenders to the pleasure, her hips rocking back and forth in a perfect rhythm. Euphoria washes over her, and her lips part, leaving her breathless and unable to respond to my kisses. Her hands grasp my shoulders, nails digging in as she seeks stability. I recline against the tub, continuing to circle her clit, my eyes locked on her.

Soft neon lights cast shadows across her bare skin, and I bite my lower lip, tearing the fresh wound, hypnotized by the sight before me. Her nipples harden, and her perfect tits bounce with every move she makes as she chases her high. Water splashes around us, staining the pristine marble as she quickens her pace, riding me like it’s her last time.

“That’s it,” I praise, unable to keep even one fucking hand to myself. Before I realize what I’m doing, I cup her breast, pinching the hard bud between my fingers. Her cry mingles with the low drum of the song playing in the background. “Take that fucking cock, there you go.”

“Oh, fuck, West,” she chokes out, slowing down her pace just when both of us teeter on the edge of breaking apart. I want to kill her and beg her to keep prolonging the pleasure at the same time. “Don’t stop touching me.” Her plea sends my eyes to the back of my head, and I comply, my hand tracing lazy circles around her nipple while I maintain a balanced pace on her clit. “Yes, yes, you’re going to make me come?—”

She’s cut off when I can no longer contain the choked, utterly pathetic whimper as it eventually rips from my throat, echoing the enjoyment that vibrates through every inch of my fucking body.

She drains me like a vampire feasting on the lifeblood of my soul, and I savor every moment of her satisfaction, thriving on it without shame.

Giving her breast one last, possessive squeeze, I lean in, my fingers curling around the back of her neck as I yank her closer. “Come with me, baby girl,” I urge, my voice thick with lust as I pick up the pace on her clit. “Do it all over my cock while I come in your pussy.”

And she does. A scream, raw and broken, tears from her throat as she clenches around me. The impossibly tight grip of her walls is all it takes for me to go right after her. My eyes roll back in bliss, a sharp spike of pain shooting through my skull as electric jolts race along my veins.

I’m falling, unendingly, with no wish to come back. The world spins—a whirlwind of colors—while the tingles bite my skin and our combined warmth seeps through, erasing everything in its path.

“Fuck,” she weeps, burying her face in the crook of my neck, her frame jerking with aftershocks. “I can’t breathe.”

Neither can I. The steam around us intensifies the feeling of suffocation, draining the last of the oxygen. My ears are filled with a persistent ringing, and black spots reappear, obscuring my vision completely.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way.

But it’s as painful as it is blissful.

“They’re probably looking for us,” she adds, her voice laced with nonchalance, and I can’t help but laugh.

“We’re not going back,” I say, trying to lift my hands to run them through her hair, but they fall limp as if made of cotton wool. I think I’m more exhausted than I feel. “Fuck them all.”

She lifts her head to meet my gaze, and my stomach tightens, a new wave of desire flooding through me. I swear, this woman has some kind of magic because I feel like a horny teenager. All I can think about is fucking her all over this mansion, in every possible and impossible position.

A smirk curves her lips, her wet eyes gleaming with mischief. “Fuck them all but us.”

Butterflies erupt in my chest, and a smirk of my own forms just before she crashes her lips against mine, stealing every last ounce of restraint I had left.

I was wrong. Hell may be my destiny, but she brings me heaven—a gift of pure, forbidden beauty that I selfishly cling to.

I don’t care about anything else with her by my side. From now on, we’re officially united, both of us happy in a marriage we once thought we never wanted.

A marriage forged to please our families, one that will ultimately lead to their downfall.