Chapter 32 #2
The ocean supported us, warm and gentle, rippling with each movement we made. I could feel it caressing my back, my thighs, sliding between us where we were joined. The sensation of skin on skin, water on skin, heat and silk, completed the moment.
"I love being inside you like this," I told her roughly, my voice strained with the effort of maintaining some semblance of control. “I love feeling your skin directly on mine. No barriers, nothing between us. Just you and me and your ocean."
She moaned again, her inner walls starting to flutter around my cock in that telltale pattern. “I love it too, daddy.”
“I love how warm you are," I thrusted. “How perfectly you fit around me.” Thrusted again. “How your body responds to mine.” A deeper thrust. “You were made for me, Marie.”
Her flutters turned into clenches, and I knew she was close.
“You’re close,” I purred, adjusting my angle. "Come on daddy's cock. Squeeze me, darling. I want to feel this pussy milk me.”
The combination of my cock hitting her G-spot and my thumb on her clit pushed her over the edge.
She came with a cry over the gentle waves, her whole body shattering in my arms, inner walls clamping down around my bare cock in pulses. I groaned deeply at the sensation, at feeling every clench directly.
“This perfect fucking pussy,” I growled, my hips stuttering as her orgasm gripped me. “You make daddy feel so good—you drive me crazy, Marie.”
I kept moving, working her through it, and felt my own release building at the base of my spine like molten heat. I didn't want to stop being inside her, feeling her, claiming her like this under the stars with her ocean as witness.
After today, after the terror of finding her gone, the relief of finding her safe, the pride of watching her face down her nightmare and emerge whole, I needed this.
I needed to fill her, needed to mark her so thoroughly from the inside out that she'd never question who she belonged to.
My rhythm turned erratic as my orgasm approached, each thrust deeper than the last, each one accompanied by the warm rush of ocean water and the incredible sensation of her bare pussy wrapped around my bare cock.
"Daddy's going to fill you up," I growled against her ear, my voice rough and primal. "Going to pump you so full, darling. You're going to take every drop.”
She made a desperate, needy sound and tightened her legs around me, her heels digging into my lower back.
My orgasm hit like a tidal wave—pleasure so intense it whited out everything else for a moment. I buried myself as deep as I could go and came hard, my cock pulsing inside her, flooding her pussy with hot cum.
But I didn't stop. I kept moving in gentle, shallow thrusts, pumping every last drop into her, wanting to give her everything, wanting to fill her until she was overflowing with me.
When the initial waves finally subsided, I stayed buried inside her, both of us trembling, breathing hard. The ocean rocked us gently, the moon painted us in silver, and I'd never felt anything more perfect than this moment.
Every small shift made us both hiss from sensitivity, but I didn't want to pull out. I wanted to stay right here, plugged deep inside her, keeping my cum exactly where I'd put it. Keeping her full of me.
"I love you," I breathed against her temple, my arms locked tight around her. "I love you so much, Marie."
She turned her head, kissing my jaw softly. "I love you too."
I held her there in the warm ocean, still buried inside her. Her dark skin was luminous, water droplets catching light like diamonds on her shoulders. Her braids floated in the gentle current, and she looked like a goddess, a mermaid. Mythical and mine.
I knew what I wanted.
Not just having her in my bed, in my house, in my arms whenever I reached for her, but I wanted her to have my name.
I wanted Marie Rivers to become Marie Easton.
It settled over me with the same inevitability as the tide—certain, unchangeable, and right.
I was forty-seven years old, I’d built empires and destroyed enemies, and thought I'd already experienced everything life had to offer.
Standing in the ocean with my love in my arms, still buried inside her, our bodies joined in the most intimate way possible under the stars, I realized I hadn't known anything about what I wanted until I met her.
And now that I did know, I was going to make damn sure of it.
Marie Rivers was going to be my wife.
Marie was sound asleep beside me, curled into my side with one arm draped across my bare chest, her breathing deep and even. We'd barely made it to the bedroom before she'd started nodding off—exhausted from everything today had demanded of her.
I'd stripped us both out of our damp clothes, toweled her off, and settled her into bed, where she'd immediately burrowed into the pillows.
Now she was lost to the world, her face peaceful.
Honey was practically snoring from her pink pet bed in the corner, sprawled out wide. I'd given her extra treats tonight for standing guard by that door, for being Marie's loyal companion when I couldn't be.
My fingers played idly with one of Marie's braids, feeling the texture, tracing the neat pattern someone had woven some time ago. It was soft despite all the salt water she’d been getting lately.
I reached for my iPad from the nightstand, careful not to jostle her. The screen lit up, and I navigated through several encrypted security feeds until I found what I was looking for: the transport truck's internal camera system.
I only needed to check. To confirm that what I'd arranged had been executed properly. To feed the darkness that demanded his suffering.
The feed loaded, grainy but clear enough in the low light of the truck's interior.
There.
Castellanos was slumped against the metal wall, his body limp, head lolling to one side. Blood smeared the floor beneath him, dark and wet, spreading in a pool.
His pants were pulled down around his thighs, and more blood streaked down his legs and between them.
The asset I'd arranged stood over him, massive and hulking, a sadistic smile splitting his face as he tucked himself back into his jumpsuit. He looked directly at the camera for a moment, a brief acknowledgment that he knew he was being watched, then turned his attention back to Castellanos.
I zoomed in to look at the terror etched into Castellanos’s unconscious face. I looked at the ruin of him, though it wasn’t nearly enough yet.
Then I turned the iPad off, the screen going black, and set it back on the nightstand.
That was all I needed to see. Confirmation that the man who'd hurt my girl was experiencing a fraction of what he'd inflicted on others. That justice was being served mile after mile on that endless route.
I hoped he lived for days, I hoped the driver took the roughest roads, I hoped every breath he took felt like swallowing glass.
I lay my head back against the pillow and smiled into the darkness, my fingers resuming their idle play through Marie's braids.
Everything was perfect.
My future wife was safe in my bed. Her abuser was meat in a grinder, and she was a queen in silk sheets.
Marie shifted against me, curling closer, her nose nuzzling into my bare chest. Her breath was warm against my skin, tickling slightly.
"Daddy?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"I'm here, darling," I murmured, my hand moving from her hair to stroke down her back. "Go back to sleep. I’m never leaving.”
She made a small sound, a mix of contentment and something else. Her fingers flexed against my chest, then relaxed.
"Wanna change my hair," she mumbled, the words slurred and barely coherent. "Back to natural. Been so long... and he touched these braids."
My hand stilled on her back for just a moment, then resumed its soothing path.
The thought of that filth touching her, his hands on her hair, on her skin—I wanted to reach through the screen, drag him out of that truck, and start over just so I could kill him slower.
I swallowed the rage, burying it deep where it fueled the fire that kept her warm.
"Of course, darling," I managed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, anchoring myself this time. "Whatever you want. I'd love to see your natural hair."
She made another small sound, squirming slightly against my side, and I felt her tilt her head up to peer at me through half-lidded eyes.
“It’s different than yours," she mumbled, her words still heavy with sleep. "My hair. It's... we're different."
She meant race. The fact that her beautiful dark skin and coiled natural hair would look nothing like my pale skin and blond hair.
I looked down at the contrast of her hand against my chest. Midnight against daylight, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I smiled and leaned in to kiss her, letting my lips linger there, breathing in her scent mixed with the salt of the ocean.
"There could be nothing more perfect than you," I told her quietly, meaning every word. "Exactly as you are. Your hair, your skin, everything about you is perfect, Marie. I worship you.”
She hummed softly, already drifting back under, her body going limp and heavy against mine.
"Love you, daddy," she whispered.
"I love you too, darling." I loved her more than she could ever know.
Within seconds, her breathing evened out again, deep and steady, and she was asleep.
I lay there in the darkness, one hand stroking her back in slow, soothing circles, the other still playing with her braids.
My girl was safe, her nightmare was in his own, and tomorrow we’d keep building this life that revolved around her.
Marie Easton.
It had a perfect ring to it.
I closed my eyes, pulled her closer, and drifted off with her warm and safe in my arms. Everything was exactly as it should be.