Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
LAYA
“ B lack Magic” by Little Mix plays as background noise when Owen kicks the bedroom door shut.
Then he goes over to the closet, and my eyes narrow. What the hell is he doing? We agreed no honeymoon.
When he returns, I latch onto the chain hanging from his palm.
He kicks off his shoes. “Owen, what is that?”
He crucks an eyebrow at me, “A chain, baby girl.”
“A chain,” I repeat dumbly.
“You said you wanted to be my wife, chained to the bed and pregnant. My wife gets what my wife asks for.”
“You’re chaining me to the bed?”
“Absolutely.” He beams, and my gaze locks onto the solid length of his cock protruding from his pants. Oh, sweet Jesus.
“And I need to fuck my wife’s bloodied cunt.”
A choking sound traps in my throat. “I’m not.” I wave my hand down toward my pussy while he continues to undress. “I’m not bleeding, Owen.”
“I know. You think I don’t monitor your period?” He pins me with a glare. “You’re two days late, by the way.”
My mouth falls open. “But you said.”
He ties the chain around the headboard, and my mouth waters to taste the pre-cum dripping from his heavy cock so close to my face. Then he opens a drawer on the bedside table, takes out a penknife, and holds it up to show me. The blade glimmers in the light, and I swallow hard.
Before I have a chance to question him, he slices through the palm of his hand, making me gasp at the sight of his blood dripping from him, but when he pumps his cock, my pussy pulsates with a familiar need for him to fill me.
“Oh god,” I pant as he attaches my wrists to the chain.
“You’re going to scream my name as I slam inside your bloody cunt, understand me, wife ?” He bites out the latter, and I nod.
Dark Owen is in full control now, and I so desperately want him.
“Now I need to punish your tight little cunt for tormenting me with the good-girl act you’ve done all day.” I gasp, wanting to argue. “We both know what a filthy little slut you are for your husband, don’t we?” He pumps his cock vigorously while straddling my torso.
“Have I put a baby in here?” As he points his cock toward my stomach, I swear the possessive gleam in his eyes almost makes me combust. I want to beg him to do just that, to fill me so full I’ve no choice but to become pregnant.
“I’m going to force my baby inside you, Laya, and you’re going to be a good little wife and accept it. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’m keeping you chained to my bed and full of my cum.” He slams inside me. “Every fucking hour.” Slam. “Filling you with my cum.” Thrust. Sweat drips from him, and every vein on his body bulges, indicating the pure masculinity rolling off him in waves as I lie powerless beneath his powerful force.
The headboard bangs, and the chains rattle as I grip onto them like a lifeline. “My dirty”—he grunts as he plows into me—“cum slut”— slam —“of a wife.” Snarling, he palms my aching tits, then pushes them together as I stare down at him and revel in the roughness of his hand. “That’s it, feed me.” He grunts with each deep thrust of his strong hips. “Fucking. Feed. Me.” My milk flows from me, coating his mouth and chin, and the delicious bite of his rough hands teasing over my nipple has my pussy clenching around him. “Such a beautiful baby girl.” He groans as his movements become stuttered, a telltale of his orgasm.
“Take all of me!” he roars with every ounce of his domination, filling me to my core.
I close my eyes with the familiar touch of his fingers wrapping around my necklace, my chain forever tying me to him, and I willingly allow it, knowing we’re only just beginning. I place my hands on his, tangling them in the chain, and encourage him to press harder. His lips part, and the stars dance in front of my eyes as I willingly float away.
“I finally have my everything,” he whispers as my vision blackens, and I couldn’t agree more.