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Rhett

Her things arrived from her father’s house this morning. Only two boxes, which tells me everything I need to know about how much she gave a shit about what she left behind. Or how much of hers the Council decided to keep.

My phone buzzes while I’m having my coffee.

Ryker:

Property deal closes Friday. Should be home within the week. How are you doing with the little bride?

I think about how I had her tied naked to a chair last night with my cum dripping down her chin. And how perfect her mouth felt around my dick. That’s how the bride is doing.

Me:

She’s learning how things are going to be.

What I mean is I’m going to fuck every hole except her cunt and teach her to beg and come on command. When Ryker walks through that door, she’ll know how to take a dick and swallow every drop.

Ryker:

You fucked her already, didn’t you? Damn you work fast.

I haven’t fucked her. Not her cunt. Her virginity is still intact, and I’m fighting every urge not to take that for myself. I will make no such promises about her ass. Ryker can’t have everything.

We’ve shared women before, Ryker and I. It’s just something we do. And as soon as I met Laine, I knew we’d share her too. But she will be his wife. And the only man he will be sharing her with is me.

Me:

No. Not exactly. But if you want me to leave her alone, you know I will.

Ryker:

If you want her so much, why don’t you just marry her then? I don’t even want to get fucking married. You know that.

I groan. He and I have been through this countless times. Even if not to Laine, he has to marry. But Laine elevates us. The Ravens expect us to reproduce and keep powerful families strong. He must marry and have children. There is no other option.

I fight the bile rising in my throat.

Me:

I can’t do that. And we both know why.

Ryker starts typing but stops. He does that several times. Then my phone buzzes again.

Ryker:

I’ll see you soon, Dad.

I pocket my phone. My son knows that this is the only way, regardless of how he or I might feel about it. Even if I bury my cock in Laine’s cunt every night, it wouldn’t change what has to happen.

And fuck. I want to fuck the bratty little one living under my roof who tastes like vanilla and makes the sweetest fucking moans.

Now I’m wandering my house looking for her instead of working. I find her in the living room, sitting on the floor next to two open boxes. She’s pulled out most of the contents—some clothes, a few books, a toiletry bag. I’m not sure why she even wanted any of this shit. It’s nothing I wouldn’t have bought for her.

She’s sitting cross-legged with something in her hands, turning it over in her fingers. She doesn’t hear me come in.

Once I get closer, I can see it’s some kind of nesting doll. Small, hand-painted, the kind of thing you’d find at a flea market. The paint is chipped and faded.

“What’s that, baby?”