She doesn’t answer, which pisses me off more, but there’s a flicker of something in her gaze now. A flash of anger, or maybe, just maybe, a hint of challenge. And I want that. I don’t want some pliable wife. I want the fight.
I grab a fistful of her hair and drag her closer, forcing her to look up at me as I unzip my pants and pull my hard cock out.
“Have you done this before, Datura? Has your mouth ever been on another man?” She shakes her head slowly, eyes huge. “Words,” I growl, my cock already in my hand as I stroke it. “Say it.”
“No,” she whispers. “Never.”
She goes to say something else but I don’t even give her time to finish. Instead, I shove the head of my cock past her lips, pushing inside until she gags. Her fingers dig into my thighs, nails leaving little red crescents as I pull out and ram back in, deeper this time. She chokes, but doesn’t pull away. Good girl. If this is what she wants, I’ll give it to her.
“This is a wifely duty, Datura,” I say, holding her head in place as I use her mouth like she’s my own personal fucktoy. My pants and briefs around my ankles and my shirt still on as I push and pull myself in and out of her mouth.
“If that’s all you want, I can make it happen. You want to be the good little wife who sucks my cock on command? Show me how good you are, because if that’s what this is, I can get it anywhere. I can have any woman on her knees for me, so show me what’s so special about this mouth of yours.”
Her eyes flick up to mine and I see that familiar spark of anger again. Good. I rather her be angry than a statue. She starts to move her mouth then, hollowing her cheeks and dragging her tongue along the length of me. She’s a fast learner, I’ll give her that. I can already feel my balls tightening. She’s beautiful like this, her hair wild and eyes shining with defiance. I watch her, fighting the urge to tell her to stop so I can take her to bed and do this right. But I don’t. I can’t. I force myself to stay cold and detached, just as she wants.
Unfortunately, she has other plans and before I know what’s happening, she’s taken over control causing me to groan out loud. I’m so blissed out on the way she watches me as she sucks me down while jerking me with her hand that I barely hear the jumbled mess of words coming out of my mouth. She continues her onslaught until my balls draw up and my hips jerk forward. I don’t ask if she’ll swallow or spit…I don’t have time. Instead I slam into her one last time, spilling down her throat. Then I pull back and watch as she swallows every drop, staring me down the whole time.
When it’s over, I let go and step back, breathing hard. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then stands slowly, leaving the dress on the floor at her feet. Her lips are red and swollen, and her chin is glossy with spit. She holds my gaze for a long, silent moment before finally speaking.
“Husband,” she says coldly, then turns away and disappears into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
I stand there for a minute, shaking with some feeling I can’t name. Maybe it’s rage…or shame? Maybe it’s just that I’ve never lost control like that in my life, not even in the ring, not even with a gun to my head. I pour another shot of tequila and drain it in one quick swallow. It burns all the way down, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through my chest.
This is going to be a long fucking marriage.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liana
“Your duties, huh?” he asks. “Is this what you want our marriage to be? You want me to use you when it’s convenient?”
I clench my fists and force myself to look at him without responding. I’ve read every romance book ever smuggled into that goddamn estate. I’ve watched every trope, every power struggle, every slow-burn explosion of love and hate and possession. I know exactly what he expects from me.
He pulls his cock out, already hard, veins standing out along the shaft, tip wet with anticipation. For a second I’m in complete shock and I know I shouldn’t be but I can’t help it. He grips my hair so hard I’m afraid it might pull right from my scalp.
“Have you done this before, Datura? Has your mouth ever been on another man?”
I shake my head no and feel his grip on me tighten, causing me to wince.
“Words,” he growls out while stroking himself. “Say it.”
“No,” I whisper. “Never. Wa…”
I try to finish speaking but he doesn’t give me a chance. I want to tell him to wait, just a minute. Give me a second to get my bearings and prepare. Instead he shoves the head of his cock into my mouth, pushing inside until it hits the back of my throat. Embarrassingly, I gag like an amateur. I grab his legs and my fingers dig into his thighs, hard enough to leave marks, but he doesn’t stop. He pulls himself out before ramming back inside. All I can do is sit and take it as I choke on the length of him.
“This is a wifely duty, Datura,” he grits out as he holds my head in place. “If that’s all you want, I can make it happen. You want to be the good little wife who sucks my cock on command? Show me how good you are, because if that’s what this is, I can get it anywhere. I can have any woman on her knees for me, so show me what’s so special about this mouth of yours.”
I see red. How dare he bring up other women while his dick impales my mouth over and over again. How dare he compare me to the random women he has fucked around with, knowing I was sent to him against my will. I may be young and I may have even been a virgin before he played with my heart and body but I’m not as innocent as he thinks I am. I’ve envisioned, devoured…memorized every sexual scene I’ve ever read and for the first time in my life, I’m going to deliver it so hard he’ll never know what hit him. I open my mouth and take him in. All the way. No warm-up or slow tease. This time there’s zero hesitation as I flatten my tongue and push until I feel the head press against the back of my throat.
Rio’s entire body goes rigid and a small sense of satisfaction rushes through my body. I’ve caught him off guard. Feeling bolder, I hollow my cheeks and pull back with a sharp, obscene slurp. I hear him suck in a breath, the second sign that he’s not as composed as he wants me to think.
“Fuck,” he mutters, gripping my hair harder and sending heat pulsing through my body and straight to my core.
I don’t break eye contact. Not once. I remember what the books said about the power a woman can have even on her knees. I set a punishing rhythm, gripping his cock and twisting my wrist at the base just the way they described. I hear him curse in Spanish under his breath, a feral sound that makes me want to smile smugly. He tries to regain control by grabbing my head harder, yanking me closer with rough hands, but I just swallow him down. There’s no way he expected this, not from the little innocent girl he thought I was. He’s close already. I can feel the way his cock twitches in my mouth and hardens even further. I can barely breathe as I watch the way his muscles lock up and his whole body tenses, so I take him as deep as I can until my nose is pressed against his skin. He loses it. He comes with a raw, guttural sound, his hands tangled in my hair like he might tear it out by the roots. I hold him there, swallowing everything, not letting even a drop escape and keeping my eyes glued to his. When it’s done, I pull back slow, letting him watch as I release the length of him from my mouth.
For a second, the only sound in the room is his harsh breathing as he stares down at me. I stand slowly, wipe the corner of my mouth, and keep my eyes trained on his.
“Husband,” I say, voice flat.
