Chapter 12 #2
“Gonna keep you full,” he growls against my ear, curling his fingers possessively. “Gonna fill this cunt every single day until it takes. Until your belly swells with my baby and everyone knows exactly who bred you.”
I moan softly, still sensitive and trembling as he works more of his cum deeper with unhurried strokes.
He leans in closer, lips brushing my neck, voice dropping even darker.
“You’re going to look so fucking good pregnant with my child.
Tits heavy and full, belly round and swollen, walking around this island with my seed still dripping down your thighs.
That’s what I want, Summer. I want you marked.
Claimed. Ruined by me in every possible way.
” He pushes a third finger inside me, stretching me open while he keeps pumping his cum back in.
“And even when you’re carrying my baby, I’m still going to fuck you like this.
Reminding this pussy who owns it. Who owns every fucking inch of you.
” He kisses me again, deep and possessive, while his fingers keep working inside me, making sure not a single drop is wasted.
“You’ve never asked me if I’m okay with this?” I whisper, voice shaky as his fingers keep moving inside me.
Kairo stills for a second, his fingers buried deep. He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark but searching.
“Asked if you’re okay with what?” he murmurs, voice low.
“All of it,” I say. “Being yours, being fucked like this, being … bred.”
He doesn’t pull his fingers out, just gently strokes as he watches my face.
“No,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed. “I haven’t.”
He leans in and kisses me again, slower this time, almost tender, while his fingers continue their lazy, possessive movements inside me.
“I’m asking now,” he whispers against my lips. “Are you okay with this, Summer?”
“I have a choice?” My voice sounds hopeful.
“No.”
The word is soft but absolute. His fingers continue to curl gently inside me, pushing his cum deeper as he holds my gaze.
“I won’t lie to you,” he says quietly. “I’m never letting you go. You’re mine now. You’re my wife, and that means a lot to me.”
This man is so confusing. One moment he is fucking me to death, and the next he is being tender while still keeping my leash tight. I’m not sure if I love it or hate it. I’m not sure of much anymore.
I lie there in his arms, his fingers still buried deep inside me, lazily pushing his cum back where he wants it, and I feel completely lost. My body is still humming from everything he’s done to me, but my mind is spinning.
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, almost sweet, like he didn’t just ruin me.
“I know it’s a lot,” he murmurs against my skin. “But you’ll get used to it. You’ll get used to me.”
I don’t know if that’s a promise or a threat.
“Do you think you could ever love me?” he asks.
His question catches me off-guard. I go completely still in his arms, my heart stuttering in my chest. His fingers are still buried deep inside me, but everything else feels frozen. I stare at his handsome face, trying to process the words.
Love?
Him?
The man who bought me. The man who hunted me through the jungle. The man who just fucked me over the edge of a cliff.
I let out a shaky breath.
“I don’t know,” I whisper honestly. “I don’t even know if I like you most of the time.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers still moving slowly inside me, almost absentmindedly. Then he presses a soft kiss to my collarbone.
“That’s fair,” he says, voice low. “I haven’t exactly given you many reasons to love me.”
He finally pulls his fingers out of me, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he wraps both arms around me and holds me tighter against his chest, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.
“I know I’m fucked up,” he murmurs into my hair. “I know the way I want you isn’t … normal. But I do want you, Summer. Not just for your body. Not for revenge. I just want you.”
“Do you love me?” I ask.
He stills for a moment, then gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him. His amber eyes are raw, unguarded in a way I’ve never seen before. “From the moment I saw you,” he says, voice low and steady. “Yes.”
I gasp in surprise, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“I know it’s going to take a while for you to catch up,” he continues, thumb brushing my cheek. “I’ve got seven years on you. But I fucking hope you do soon.”
The confession hangs between us, heavy and terrifying and strangely beautiful. I don’t know what to say, my throat feels tight.
He leans in and kisses me, slowly, deeply, and achingly tender. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“I’m not asking you to say it back,” he whispers. “I just needed you to know. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Summer. Even when you had no idea who I was.”
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by his declaration. The man who has done terrible things to me just told me he’s been in love with me for seven years.
I don’t know if I’m terrified or relieved.
Maybe both.