“What?” he stammers.
Vian’s jaw sharpens, making him appear even more lethal. “Now.”
He peels himself off the spiked wall, his face paling, and with uncoordinated movements, he removes his shirt and pants while a puddle of red gathers at his feet.
His flaccid, small dick elicits a smile on my face.
“Get it up,” my husband orders.
I blink, realizing where he is heading, while a rush travels through me. It’s arousal mixed with excitement, surprise mixed with horror.
Vian jerks his chin at him, saying matter-of-factly, “You wanted to rape my wife. Show me with what.”
I hate that I drank too much because I would love nothing more than to throw myself at him and let him have his way with me. I am fairly sure the alcohol evaporated during the wild ride I’ve embarked on tonight.
His world is as dark as it is elite.
His touch is as sweet as it is feral.
His mouth is as sensual as it is criminal.
Hollow cries burst from his throat. “I can’t.”
Vian cocks his head and says in an eerily low voice, “So you can only get it up for unwilling women?”
Pride blends with satisfaction, a sense of rightness overcoming me. He deserves nothing less.
“I said get it up,” he roars, the walls shaking with the force behind it.
The man jerks off, fat tears gathering in his eyes, snot bubbling under his nose.
I love the power imbalance. I feel vindicated for all the women who have suffered at the hands of men like him.
I admire my husband. For the first time, I even respect a man.
Even at his most exposed, the man is nothing like Vian, who makes me feel not only desired but safe.
He swings the blade through the air, and the punishment lands with brutal finality.
My jaw drops, and the man falls to his knees, his sobs piercing the room.
Vian doesn’t end him, though. He issues another cold command “Pick your dick up off the floor.”
With shaky fingers, the man obeys, but with the substantial blood loss, he doesn’t have much time left. Vian drags him from the floor by his hair and thrusts him back into the wall, the spikes piercing his skin again.
Sobs bounce through the room, yet their vigor wanes, sounding like a distant echo of life.
“Now, shove your dick in your mouth.” Vian says, his voice stripped of mercy.
The man’s entire body shudders as he obeys, and Vian ends him with skilled precision. He bleeds out, yet not even one drop of blood touches my man.
If I hadn’t watched the scene unfold, I would never have guessed what he did tonight.
Done with him, he spits at the ground. “A fucking disgrace.”
As I witness how personally he takes it, I can’t shake the feeling this is not only about encroaching on his territory, but about what the man threatened to do to me.
I know he loved his mother, and the one woman who came before me.
