13. Jet
JET
Amal’s heartbeat is a wild staccato against my chest. It matches the pounding of my own heart.
I’m breathless, every muscle tensed, my cock throbbing as I slowly draw out, come and blood warm and slippery as I ease my hold on Amal, realizing how tight my grip had been, how, even as I tried to keep my full weight off her, I’m crushing her.
She draws a trembling breath in. Her body eases into the bed and I look between us to see the blood staining the white sheets, her thighs smeared with it. Mine too. The long shaft of my cock pink with a mixture of blood and come.
A virgin bride no longer.
A wife claimed.
Mine.
Those words circle my brain. They seem to be the only coherent thoughts I’m capable of.
She pulls her hands from my shoulders, and I feel where her nails dug in, where she, too, drew blood.
I brush a curly lock from her face. “You are so beautiful. Do you know that?”
She pushes a hand through my hair. I don’t miss how it trembles. How her whole body begins to shiver.
I hug her to me and she curls up, her arms close to her body, her cheek pressed to my chest.
“Baby. You okay?” I hold her to me, kiss the top of her head. I think she needs me to hold her tight. When she doesn’t answer, I nudge. “Amal?”
She makes a sound and buries her face deeper into my chest. I’m not sure if she’s embarrassed or just doesn’t know how to be or if I hurt her too badly. It’s her first time. But then I feel the warmth of tears on my skin and understand that she’s crying.
“Hey,” I say, pulling back to look at her. She resists and swipes at her face angrily before finally looking up at me. “Did I hurt you?” I touch her face, brushing away a tear.
She shakes her head and I’m not sure she can speak.
“It’s okay. I have you. I have you now. Cry. Let it out.”
Her back stiffens like she’s steeling herself and she finally opens her eyes.
“I’m fine. I just… I need a minute,” she says, and tries to scoot away.
I hold onto her, searching her face.
“Please, Jet.”
“One minute,” I say, and reluctantly let her go.
She slips away the moment I release her, snatching her ruined dress from the floor and cover herself, failing to and hurrying to the bathroom.
I note the prints of my hand on her ass before she disappears and closes the door behind her. I roll onto my back and stare up at the elaborately decorated ceiling. Even the ceilings in this hotel are something else and so completely different to my own home.
I hear the water switch on. A bath in the two-person tub is a great idea. I’ll join her, but first, I need to take care of business.
Although reluctant, I get up out of the bed. I cross the room to get my cell phone. Time to get back to reality. I switch it back on to find several missed calls, three from Cassian and two from Severin. Sev doesn’t usually call. He’s more a man to text, which I appreciate.
I listen to Cassian’s first message. It’s a two-word pissed off message to match all the texts, as if he wanted to make sure I got his tone. I had. I don’t bother listening to the rest. I’ll call him in a minute.
Sev’s message is different. More ominous. “Where are you? I need you at the club. We have a fucking problem. Wherever you are, either fucking pick up your phone or get here. Pronto.”
Pronto.
Fuck you, Sev. I give my phone the finger and delete the message then scroll to Cassian’s number and hit the call button.
I’m ready for him to answer on the first ring, pissed as fuck, but he doesn’t.
The call goes to voice mail. I try again.
Same thing. I leave him a voice mail asking him where he is for a change, then drop my phone on the dresser and walk to the bathroom.
All is quiet and, because I’m polite, I knock.
“I’ll be out in a little bit,” Amal calls out, her tone aloof.
I try the door but find it locked. “What the fuck, Amal?”
“There’s a second bathroom. You can use it.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, then grip the doorknob and turn hard enough to pop the flimsy lock and push open the door to find Amal soaking in the tub, mouth opening in a surprised O.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.
“Checking on my wife.”
“You just broke the lock.”
“Thought you were running a bath for us. It is our wedding night,” I say and step inside. The room is steamy from the hot water and Amal is leaning against one end of the two-person tub hands protectively if not a bit dramatically covering her breasts.
“Did it occur to you I might need a minute alone.”
“You had a minute. More than one.”
I go to the toilet, lift the lid to take a piss.
She mutters something as I flush then walk over to the sink to wash my hands. In the mirror I see her gaze is glued to my ass. When I catch her eye and raise an eyebrow, she quickly looks away.
“Do you have to stand there naked?” she asks.
I cross the spacious bathroom and step into the tub. Amal pulls her legs back.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Conserving water. Better for the environment.” I settle in across from her and we watch each other, her with her arms still covering herself, me with mine spread over the edges of the tub. “Come here,” I tell her, gesturing with a curl of my fingers.
“I’m fine here.”
“Come anyway, little wifey.”
“Little wifey?”
“Just trying it out since Little Virgin is out. Now come here.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I think you’re taking the obedience thing a little far. If you’re not getting out, I will.”
She makes to stand but I grab hold of her arm and pull her down to me. Water splashes out of the tub making a mess on the tiled floor.
“Did I miss something?” I ask, surprised at her behavior. “Is there a reason you’re being an asshole?”
“I’m not. I just need a minute!” She struggles as I wrap my arms around her, holding her back against my chest.
“You were crying.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I have eyes in my head.”
She shrugs a shoulder.
I lift her, turn her to face me.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shifts her gaze away and shakes her head. “You didn’t hurt me more than anyone would have. I’m just—”
“First of all,” I cut her off because did she just fucking say that? “No one else will ever touch you because if they try, I will kill them.”
She looks up at me, clearly surprised by my tone. “It’s not like–”
“I will kill them. Understand?”
“Yeah. Fine. Don’t be crazy.”
I grit my teeth because she’s right, I am being crazy, but I feel very protective of her. Not to mention possessive. I have from that very first day she came walking into my office, still in her school uniform. Just strolled right into the devil’s lair and had no idea what she was getting into.
“Now tell me why you were crying,” I ask, very aware of the proximity of her pussy to my cock.
“It was just a lot, Jet. It’s all a lot.”
“Tell me what’s a lot. What are you doing in Scotland anyway? What secret are you keeping?”
She shifts her gaze from mine. Whatever she’s hiding, I need to know. But when she draws her fingers up over my stomach to my chest, my breath catches and my dick takes it as an invitation.
Amal shifts on my lap, glancing down at my cock, licking her lips when she shifts her gaze back to mine, then to my chest, to the scars and tattoos there. I hold my breath as she traces the lines of scar tissue and ink, touching them gently. Curiously.
“What secrets do you keep, Jet?” she asks, then leans closer, brushes her lips over mine to kiss me.
“You can’t distract me that easily,” I say against her mouth, my hands closing over her arms.
“No? I think I can.”
She kisses me again, a tentative, inexperienced kiss, and I find I like it. I like my seductive, innocent wife very much. She sets her hands on my shoulders and opens her eyes to look at me as she raises herself up a little, brings herself closer to rub her clit against the length of my cock.
“Fuck.” I groan out the word because it’s going to take all I have not to impale her here and now.
“Make me come, Jet,” she says.
I slide my hands to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh before shifting my grip to her hips to draw her up along my shaft, then down.
Her eyes darken and her lips part.
“You want me to make you come?”
She nods, hands clawing into my shoulders. She tilts her hips, trying to mount me.
I groan but stop her. “This is hard enough, Amal, but I don’t want to hurt you and if I fuck you again now, I will.”
“Maybe I want it to hurt,” she says against my lips. “Maybe I’ll like it.”
I tilt her chin up to look at her. She closes her eyes and tries to kiss me again, but I stop her. I want to see her face, her eyes.
“You want it to hurt?” Her cheeks flush red and her eyes dart away. “My dirty little virgin bride,” I start, kissing her hard while squeezing her ass, rubbing my cock against her clit until I hear her moan. “You are very distracting.”
She smiles, pleased.
I kiss her mouth, my tongue slipping inside to taste more of her. “I have a proposition for you.”
“What proposition?”
“You tell me what you’re doing here, and I’ll make you come so hard you will forget your own name.”
Her body stiffens, the shift instantaneous. She draws back to look at me.
“Are you negotiating sex for information?” she asks bluntly.
“Is that any worse than you using sex for distraction?”
“I tell you what. You keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine.” She begins once more to struggle against me.
I tighten my grip. “Don’t fight me, sweetheart.
I’m stronger than you. Bigger than you. And I might like it too much if you fight.
” I pause, taking in her eyes, how they turn a deep ocean blue when she’s aroused.
“And no, I’m not negotiating sex for information.
I like fucking you very much. I plan to do it again and often. ”
Her eyes flash with anger. She tries to slide off my lap, but I don’t let her.
“Let me go.”
“You don’t get to walk away mid-conversation. That’s not how this works.”
“What am I, one of your poor victims to interrogate? A job? Why did you marry me anyway?” She stops, suddenly, as if she’s just thought of something. “Oh my god. It’s Cassian, isn’t it? He made you do it. He sent you here after me!”