Chapter 26
JOSEPH
Iwas surprised she came back so soon. I’m guessing she went to the black room because it’s the only room she is guaranteed her safety—from me.
I waited, not really expecting a return visit but enjoying the solitude simple surroundings can bring.
The attic room is perfect. It’s stripped of everything but necessity and focuses the mind instead. I have wealth, privilege, and comfort, and none of that means shit when it comes with a restless mind.
Then she came back.
She stood like a warrior in the doorway, intent heavy in her expression, and it was fascinating to watch.
A thousand doubts played across her features; her bravery taking her on a trip her weakness cowers away from.
When she stripped, she grabbed my attention by the balls because she is stunning. Perfectly formed and everything I admire, and it’s not just her beautiful body, it’s her mind.
Rather than be forced, she is forcing the situation, and I admire that. She doesn’t require sarcastic words, gloating even. I respect her too much for that.
Neither of us asked for this, and I wonder how I could have been so stupid. Who wouldn’t want this—her? She is like a broken doll whose cracks only add to the appeal, making her even more beautiful, more tragic, more captivating.
As I lower her onto the bed, she closes her eyes, and I whisper against her ear, “Eyes on me, princess, always on me.”
They snap open and I kiss each one in turn, loving how her chest heaves, the confusion in her darkening gaze, and the deep blush to her skin.
My fingers trail down her body as if I am playing an instrument. Loving the soft, gentle sound as it’s brought to life. She gasps, her deep groan revealing her pleasure, and as I trail kisses down her body, her velvet skin tastes like the perfect peach.
I reach her pussy, desperate to devour innocence, and she gasps, “What–”
I say nothing and merely swipe my tongue along her crease, connecting my lips with her clit, gently rolling it around and biting down gently, my fingers searching for her hidden treasure. She groans, pushing up against me, desperate for something she had never contemplated before.
She is dripping sweet honey on my tongue, and I curl one finger inside her, testing the water as they say, loving the pressure as her pussy clamps down on it.
I insert another one, my emotions heightened, and she clutches them almost possessively, her gentle moans of pleasure all the encouragement I need.
Heat rushes through my veins, my heart pounding, as I do something I’ve done a million times before, but savoring it as if it’s my first time. It is my first time with her. With my wife and I doubt the moment will ever be sweeter as I prepare to claim her for the first time.
Her body shudders under me, and I contemplate her impending orgasm, surprised at how jealous I am that she will come without me. I want to be inside her to experience her pleasure, to ride the wave, to own it and to experience the rush at the same time.
My attention moves back up her body, her disappointment sadistically bringing me pleasure as I attack her mouth with her desire fresh on my tongue, forcing her to sample the sweet honey she has given me.
She kisses me back with enthusiasm and desperation, and as I shift against her, I flick her clit, rubbing it, coaxing it to the edge so I catch her as she falls.
The room is silent as the heavens weep for their angel. The red blood surging through my veins resembling the fires of hell, rejoicing in another ruined soul.
I waste no time, almost hoping it hurts like crazy because I want to rip apart her innocence and bring her to heel. To be my broken angel, experiencing the burn of my possession, reminding her I own her now and will do until I say so.
She is my wife, and I never realized how different that would feel as I prepare to seal the deal and do a victory dance inside her where no man has ever been before.
It’s intoxicating, thrilling, and I can’t prolong this any longer. As I push inside in a surprise attack, her agonized scream rips from her center, her tears bleeding her virginity.
Fuck! That is so good.
I’m inside fucking paradise and as I pull her in deeper, I hiss, “Eyes on me, princess.”
The pain in her eyes doesn’t concern me, but replacing it with pleasure does. As my finger rubs her clit, I move slower, her body adjusting to me taking over like an emergency medic at a wreck.
Ecstasy is the pain relief and as her body concedes it’s not so bad after all, she relaxes as my cock soothes her from the inside. Painting her with my mark, our bodies consummating a marriage neither of us wanted but are happy with now.
I move up and love how she bites her lip, her gaze never leaving mine for a second as her blood heats inside. It’s intimate, hot and heavy, perfection, and a thrill to be fucking my wife for the very first time.
Silence is comforting, and only the roar of the blood inside me and the frantic beating of my heart disturbs the peace.
Her fingers claw my back, her heart racing against my chest, and our sweat glues us together as I rock in and out, in no hurry to rush this.
I study her, loving the glaze to her expression as she experiences pleasure—a softening of rage. I move deeper, faster, harder and stare into her eyes the entire time, enjoying the conflicting emotion as it plays out like a movie in front of me.
Her body glides against the sheets, forward and back as I pump inside her with no mercy. My cock is about to explode, but I must ride her orgasm, and so I increase the pressure on her clit, her skin puckered, a shiver passing through her as her attention drifts.
Biting down on her soft lip, I hiss, “Eyes on me, princess.”
They snap on me and the emotion in them feeds my jaded heart.
She is so beautiful as she hovers on the edge of the unexpected and as I push down on her clit, her entire body stills and her stricken expression is exactly what I hoped for as a ragged scream is ripped from her throat as her innocence is claimed in one euphoric moment.
Her entire body breaks as she screams in ecstasy, and as my cock explodes, my mind goes with it, as for once, I am free to enjoy an orgasm that will find its mark.
No rubber to contain my enjoyment, and as I shoot high into her womb, the effect is incredible, blowing my mind and creating emotions I never realized I was capable of.
My entire body throbs, softened by fulfillment and I pull Tiffany hard against me, buried deep into her to the hilt.
My chest presses against hers and her heart taps against mine, the scent of my woman filling my senses as I bury deeper inside her sticky paradise.
I close my eyes against her cheek, our faces pressed together, our skin slick with sweat.
Our breathing is heavy, as if we just ran from the world, holding hands together. I can’t pull away. For some reason that terrifies me, and I must still because her soft voice soothes.
“Are you okay, Joseph?”
I tighten my grip, reluctant to destroy the moment with mere words, and as she gasps, it reminds me of my strength as I crush her beneath my attention.
“I’m sorry.”
My ragged breath accompanies my withdrawal; my mind shifting to business, always to business – shutting emotion down.
As I roll onto my back, I stare at the white ceiling, an empty space I am used to.
“I–”
She is struggling for words, and I certainly don’t have any as my mind processes what just happened.
It’s as if I lost control for a second. I was free even. The weight shifted, and nothing mattered but pleasure.
She whispers, “I’ll, um, well, clean up, perhaps.”
I hate how nervous she sounds, upset even, and I push myself aside and turn to face her, reaching out and trailing my fingers down her gorgeous face.
“You are perfect, Tiffany, and I appreciate what you gave me.”
She blinks, her lower lip trembling as the enormity of what just happened hits her.
“I don’t know what came over me.”
Guilt is riding shotgun on her emotions right now, leaving me feeling like the biggest bastard alive—not for the first time, if I’m honest.
“Come here.”
I inject some warmth into my smile and pull her close, my arm circling her shoulders as I pull her head down to my chest, allowing my fingers to lazily play with her hair, creating a moment of intimacy, reassuring her because she deserves to feel special after what she just gave me.
I drop a kiss on her head and say huskily, “That must have been difficult for you to give me something you have protected for so long.”
“I never protected anything. I just never found anyone who wanted it. Wanted me.”
Her words are empty, hollow even, and I recognize them.
It’s hard being alone, and I say gently, “But you have your sisters. The other nuns. Surely, they want you as a sister, a friend, a like-minded soul even.”
“What about you, Joseph?”
I don’t miss how skillfully she changes the focus of my attention away from her, which intrigues me.
“You have brothers, a family even, but you choose to live here alone, protected in a house that appears to have no life in it.”
“We are alike, Tiffany. You choose to live in a convent that I’m guessing has no life in it other than the waiting room for death. You can’t judge me by your own standards because you have your reasons and I have mine.”
“And pain, Joseph. You hold a lot of pain that you can only deal with through more pain. Have you ever talked to anyone about that?”
“A shrink?”
“Or your family.”
“That’s an amusing thought, princess. Reserve judgment until you’ve met them.”
She shifts and turns to look at me, and it strikes me how possessive I am already of her. I love the bright sparkle in her eye, the concern in them for me, and she shakes her head and says with a slight hesitation, “What or who stole your heart, Joseph?”
“Who says I have a heart?”
I twist her hair in my fingers, loving how soft it is, and without warning, I pull her roughly toward me, crushing her words inside, claiming her lips in a far more interesting way than conversation.
I don’t relent for ages, enjoying silencing the questions, making my excuses for not answering them. Only once I’m certain her lips are swollen and bruised from my rough treatment do I pull away and nod toward the door.
“You’re right, we should clean up. If I’m right, we will have guests, and I really should prepare for that.”
“Guests?”
Her eyes are bright, her hair tousled, and her lips swollen, and I don’t believe I have ever witnessed such beauty before.
She appears immune to the fact that she is naked, her perfect breasts tantalizingly close, and as I reach out and run my thumb around the nipple, her small groan alerts me to endless possibilities as I teach her what letting go really involves.
“We should leave.” I add, almost to myself, and she nods, her breathing ragged as she whispers, “We should.”
Images of her broken virginity lying between her thighs cause a sudden rush of blood to my head and my cock. It’s suddenly the most important thing in my life to be inside this woman again, and I spin her around, pushing her legs apart, holding her down as I growl, “But first.”
As I push into her, her sudden groan matches mine as I dance in the ruin of her slayed innocence, celebrating the fact I have a new hobby to enjoy and I love how I never saw it coming.