Chapter 12 #2
“LEITH!” Just as I commanded, she fills the train with her libidinous scream.
I pack her full of my hot essence, till there’s nothing left to explode. Thrusting at random, I finally jerk out of her and look down at our uncoupling.
Fuck. There’s blood all over.
“Are you on your period?”
She gives a slow shake of her head, her eyes wide, innocent, and disbelieving. “This was my first time.”
What?
“As in, you’re a virgin?”
She blows a matted lock of hair from her eye. “Aye. Well, was.”
“Fuck.” I untie the belt and ropes, freeing her wrists and ankles. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to make a big deal of it. The way you are now.”
“But how . . .” I’m at a loss for words.
“I steered clear of men all this time.”
“Until me.”
“Until you.”
Holy fuck. A virgin. My sperm do a victory dance in my balls.
She pulled a fast one on me. With her looks I never expected her to be anything less than experienced. But I shouldn’t have assumed anything. Not with her past.
She reads the expressions flitting over my face. “You’re judging me.”
I flop beside her, supporting her head with my arm. “Maybe I am. But we all judge one another. It’s human nature.”
Snuggling into my chest, she looks up at me. “You’re no idealist.”
“I’m a pragmatist, Iona.” I rest my hand on the curve of her waist.
She scrunches her lips. “Does that mean you’re calculating how to capitalize on this discovery?”
A smirk pulls at the corners of my mouth. “I already have capitalized on it, and I have no complaints.”
“Why did you try to kill me?”
I wrap my hand around her throat. “If I’d really tried, I would have.”
A shiver ripples through her. “But why?”
“You caused Aaron Frye’s death,” I say tightly. “He was my best friend.”
Her pupils dilate with fear, and she tries to escape my hold, but I roll on top of her, pinning her in place.
“Please, Leith,” she whispers. “I didn’t cause his death on purpose.”
“You put him in prison, where he was knifed to death. He never should’ve been there.” Grief, rage, and bloodlust mix in one potent concoction in my chest, making me ache to avenge my lost friend.
“But he assaulted Grizel?—”
“He did no such thing.” I close my fingers on her pulse points. “You got the wrong man.”
Her eyes blaze. “Then kill me. Because I’d identify him again and again. As many times as it takes to bring him to justice.”
Fury roils in my belly. I’m going to fuck the fight out of her.
The thought of killing and fucking her at once has my dick granite-hard again.
Positioning my head at her threshold, I impale her on my cock.
She lets loose a scream and tries to pry my arm loose from her throat, but I only tighten my hold on her.
“Beg for mercy,” I taunt, not planning to show her any but wanting to hear her plead. I rise up and stab her up to the hilt, relishing her hot, narrow channel.
As I loosen my grip, her eyes bulge, and she gasps, “Please.”
“Louder.” Pulling out, I thrust deep, jostling her and sending her several inches toward the opposite edge of the bed.
“Please,” she chokes out. “Spare me.”
“Why should I?” I pound her with the force of a battering ram.
“Because—ungh”—she moans as I tap into her deepest pleasure well—“because if you kill me now you won’t be able to drag it out.”
I hiss at the satisfaction of plowing into her, even while admitting she has a point.
I want to draw out her suffering and punish her as thoroughly as possible.
Pumping her twice more, I withdraw, lift up, and jet my cum across her face and chest. My release is an avalanche that crashes through my core, shatters my sanity, and spreads destruction to my fingers and toes.
I growl, reveling as much in my spunk covering her breasts as in the explosion of pleasure.
I stroke out every last drop of it, then lean over and use it to paint the word mine over her cheek.
“If that’s true, why do you keep threatening to kill me?” she huffs, frustrated I didn’t let her come.
I let out a dark chuckle. “You’re mine to kill, use, or torment, as I see fit.” I spring off the bed and take her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Get ready for bed, but don’t clean up or dress. I want to see my cum marking you.”
“But we’ll be asleep,” she protests.
I cup her jaw, admiring my handiwork. “Neither of us is sleeping. We have too much fucking to do.”
* * *
The whole night I make good on my promise, breaking in my virginal wife to the joys of sex in many positions.
I take her from behind as she kneels on the floor.
I eat her out as she takes my cock down her throat.
I fuck her from below as she rides me cowgirl.
I seat her on my lap facing forward and peg her.
And just after the sun has risen, I press her into the shower wall and hammer into her, driving her upward till she screams my name.
True to my word, I make her so sore she can barely move.
An hour before the train arrives in London, our hostess brings trays of full Scottish breakfasts. She tosses me a wink and opens her mouth to flirt, but I shut the door on her face. I’m in nowt but my boxer briefs, while Iona wears just her panties.
Over haggis, tattie scone, beans, sausage, and bacon, I ask, “If I hadn’t come along and forced your hand, would you have continued avoiding sex?”
“You forced more than my hand.” She dips her head, looking at me through her lashes. “And I avoid men altogether.”
I knit my brows. “What about Darian? And that man who works with you?”
“Stennis? I have to do breathing exercises and focus on not having an anxiety attack when he comes on to me.” She takes a sip of coffee. “Same with Darian, but I felt safer with him because you were nearby.”
She really hasn’t been with a man before me. The thought satisfies me profoundly.
My dick jumps in my boxer briefs. “Why don’t you have the same aversion to me?”
She considers me as if for the first time. “You have a smell about you—like our Highland cottage near Achnasheen—and you give off a homey aura. I just can’t fear you the way I fear most men when they get close.”
“You feared me when I was choking you,” I point out.
“That’s different.” She carves up her haggis. “You were angry and keen to take it out on me.”
“I’m still angry, Iona. Still will take it out on you.” I sit back, admiring how the early morning sun flecks her auburn-wine hair with gold dust. “Just not yet.”
“Shouldn’t you be asking if I’m glad I broke my no-man rule with you?”
I pop the rest of my scone in my mouth. “I don’t need to ask, because I know you’re glad.”
She parks a fist on her hip. “How?”
I open a palm. “Look how heartily you’re eating. The direct effect of a night of earth-shattering sex with me.”
She nudges me in the ribs. “Arsehole.”
“You’re inviting more of said sex.”
Her mouth drops open. “We’re about to arrive at the station.”
I smile. “I’ll hold the train.”
Awareness kindles in her eyes. “Like you hired everyone to exit the Club Car last night while you hunted me down?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” I stroke the back of my knuckles over her cheek. “I have this whole train in the palm of my hand. Draven and McKinley ensured that no one made a false move at the wrong time.”
“All so you could kill me?” The two bright flames on her cheeks match her locks.
A wicked smile plays over my lips. “So I could do whatever I wanted with you.”