Captive Bride: A Dark Obsession Romance

by Dark Angel

  My ankles lock together behind his back, my arms pull tightly against my binds, the pain of the tie digging into them, only adding to my pleasure.

  I feel my orgasm building, more intense than any I’ve felt yet.

  My entire body seems to erupt in flame, consumed entirely by him.

  I go completely rigid as I come, my pussy clamping down onto him. I scream in pure ecstasy, nerves aflame.

  My fingernails dig grooves into my palms as the breath leaves my body.

  Still, I continue to come.

  The orgasm racking through me seems to last an eternity.

  I struggle to breathe.

  My thoughts cease entirely.

  There is nothing in the world but this.

  Nothing but him.

  I scream his name again, sounding like its own prayer now.

  The orgasm passes slowly, my body still feeling the ache and the bliss for several moments after. When it’s passed entirely, I look to him in utter fascination, my body trembling in the aftermath.

  He kisses me once, slowly, before re-positioning himself between my legs.

  My chest continues heave, my legs shaking worse than ever as I struggle to draw breath.

  I look up at him, into those piercing eyes.

  They tell me what he’s thinking without any single word.

  A grin tugs at his lips.

  We’re nowhere near finished here.

  16

  Tristan

  Her thick blonde hair is spread across the pillow, glittering in the moonlight that punctuates the darkness.

  Her red, swollen lips are open in a wanton pant, contrasting vastly against the dim room but in perfect harmony with the gothic decor.

  The pulses of her orgasm clench and release my cock, driving me wild.

  I can barely restrain myself from driving into her relentlessly. I want to fill her up, hear her fucking cry my name over and over like a ritualistic chant only for my ears to hear.

  I want to spill my seed inside her, then flip her over and do it all over again.

  I’ve finally made her mine. This gorgeous goddess staring up at me is mine.

  Never has a woman stirred up such desire, such possessiveness within me. It’s overwhelming to the point where it nearly fucking chokes me.

  Sex has always been emotionless for me. Going through the motions and finding my release is all I’ve cared about before.

  I’ve had some good fucks, some great head, but realistically it’s all been mundane up until now. I take what I want and move on.

  But Isobel, holy shit.

  I’ve just had a fucking taste of her and I know, without a doubt, that I only want her in my bed from now on. Nobody else will do. No one else compares.

  “Tristan,” a husky whisper calls my name, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Yes, my princess?” I smirk, looking down at her flush body, glistening with sweat. “What can I do for you?”

  I rub the head of my cock against her slippery wet opening, letting it slide up and rub against her clit. She fucking wants me. I know it, but I’m not going to give in so easily.

  Her chest heaves as she looks at me, eyes drifting to my cock.

  “You want this?” I tease, positioning it over her opening and pressing against her slightly.

  She nods.

  “I can’t hear you,” I move back and glide one hand up her side, my fingers coming to rest on her perky tit.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” I pinch her nipple between my fingers and smile as she gasps and arches her back.

  “Yes…” her voice is hesitant. “I want you…”

  “Say please.”

  “Please…”

  “As my princess wishes.”

  I thrust into her.

  “Fuuuuck…” I groan as she sucks me in completely.

  I’d like to think I’m in full control here, but my cock is completely at her mercy.

  She’s so tight, so wet, and so hot. It all feels so fucking good that I’m ready to abandon self-control.

  “Ah, god!” she cries out as I thrust into her cunt.

  I lean down, crashing my mouth against hers. Our tongues intertwine, dancing the heated tango as I grind against her.

  I cradle her face with one hand, while wrapping the other around her shoulder so I can dive even deeper inside.

  “Agghh…” I moan out in a raspy breath.

  Every fiber of my being is on fire, pulsing with want and need. I want to cherish and punish her all at once for bewitching me with her gorgeous figure, cerulean eyes, and fair skin.

  I alternate my pace, thrusting fast, then slow. Hard, then soft.

  I don’t want this moment to end just yet.

  I lock eyes with her, and the exchange of emotion between the two of us fucking captivates me. She’s no longer a caged bird, locked away for nobody to see.

  She’s here in my arms, writhing and crying out, begging for more. She’s everything I didn’t know I wanted and so much more.

  She’s mine.

  An unspoken conversation takes place, and I know nothing will ever be the same again.

  I can feel her pussy tightening up. She must be close. Her eyes drift shut in ecstasy as she gasps.

  I stop moving abruptly.

  What will you do next, my princess?

  “Tristan…” she whines. The sound is like music to my ears, fucking sadist that I am.

  “Hmm?” I feign innocence, the ghost of a smile forming on my lips.

  I want her to cry out, to fucking beg for my cock.

  Then, and only then, will I give her the release she so desperately wants.

  I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Tell me you want my cock.”

  Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush.

  How fucking gorgeous.

  “I want it…”

  “Want what? Say it, Isobel.”

  “Your cock. I want…your cock,” she thrusts her hips upward, and I can feel her pussy walls clench me.

  The words are so enticing on her lips, to hear her beg, that all semblance of control leaves me. I fuck her harder and faster.

  One hand’s gripping the headboard as the other cups her ass, lifting her higher as I drive toward my release.

  As she climaxes, she tightens up around me, and I can’t hold back any longer.

  With one last thrust, I fucking explode inside her. My cock pulses as I come hard—harder than I’ve ever came before.

  “Isobel!” I call her name as I collapse on top of her, kissing her shoulders and neck before I thrust my tongue in her mouth.

  This isn’t over yet, though. My cock is still rock hard and raring to go, a true testament to how different she is.

  Normally, I’d lose interest at this point. I’d shove myself off and walk away without a second thought.

  Isobel makes me want more. I know I should take it easy on her, it being her first night and all. But desire fucking wins out.

  I’m not letting her go until I’m fully satiated—until she comes all over my cock to the point where she can’t come anymore.

  I tug the tie loose from the headboard, freeing her arms. Without giving her time to grab her bearings, I roll us over so that she’s on top of me, my cock still inside her.

  My hands reach up to her hips, steadying her. The surprise is evident in her eyes, and it makes me chuckle.

  Poor girl, she landed a beast for her first.

  “Move,” I command her.

  It’s an order, one that she dare not defy.

  Isobel gyrates her hips, moving back and forth hesitantly. She bites her lip, sucking it in her mouth as she looks down at me.

  How fucking sexy.

  I can see the shyness in her eyes but also the heat that tells me she wants more.

  “Like this,” I move her hips up and slam her down on my cock.

  She takes over, moving hesitatingly at first but slowly gaining momentum.

  “Yeeaah,” I growl. “Ju
st like that.”

  She throws her head back, letting her long blond locks tickle my thighs. The look on her face is so provocative; my cock twitches, threatening to blow my load right here and now.

  You’d never know that until an hour ago, she was a virgin. I plucked that flower and made it all mine.

  I sit up, grabbing her waist and pulling her flush to me as I thrust up into her. She leans down to kiss me; it’s deep and passionate.

  Her blonde locks fall over my face, enveloping us in a cloud as her hands cradle at either side of my jaw.

  I tangle my hand in her hair, fisting it at the base of her head and pulling slightly. It’s soft and silky, and I can’t help but tug it.

  “Tristan,” she moans my name.

  Her cries are getting louder, and I can feel that I’m nearing my fucking limit.

  “Together,” I groan against her lips.

  I grab her chin, making her look right at me. The bliss is evident on her face, and she’s mouthing my name.

  “I want to see your face as I fucking come inside you. Look at me, and nothing but me.”

  She shudders as the orgasm rocks her body. The force of her pussy clamping down on my cock is too much to fucking bear.

  Slamming her hips down, I come, looking her right in the eyes as I do.

  Her hands tighten on my shoulders before she rests her head against my chest.

  Satiated and exhausted, we fall to the bed.

  I wrap my arms around her, kiss her forehead, and before long, we fall asleep.

  17

  Isobel

  Light trickles through the window.

  It crawls across the floor, brightening the dark tones of the room.

  On the bed, it reaches my eyes, beckoning them open.

  I look confusedly at my surroundings. It’s new and unfamiliar.

  The dark woods and somber coloring remind me that I’m no longer at home. I’m no longer trapped in my tower. I feel a spark of delight build in my chest.

  In the light of the new day, I feel a freedom that I’ve never known before. Strange that it came from my kidnapping.

  Tristan sleeps next to me, his thick arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. I feel the strength coiled in them even when he’s asleep.

  Even when he’s unconscious, I feel his unrelenting possession of me.

  I turn my head slowly, careful not to wake him.

  His dark lashes graze the top of his cheekbones, and a grin plays across his mouth. Here in the morning light, there’s no sign of the criminal, the Montague.

  His peace puts me at peace, and a grin finds its way to my lips as well.

  Feelings stir in my chest, so strong they surprise even me.

  This is real.

  I am in love with Tristan Montague.

  And he is in love with me.

  The thought alone brings me a joy greater than any I’ve ever felt before.

  His eyelids flutter open, as if he senses my gaze. Knowing the man, even as little as I do, it’s a definite possibility. His eyes lock onto mine immediately, deep, green, and fathomless.

  My heart beat races as the grin on his lips pulls into a full smile.

  “You’re awake,” he says, voice husky with unshed sleep.

  I nod, my body creeping closer to his own without hesitation.

  My head nestles into his chest, his steady heartbeat filling my ears.

  “Have you been up long?”

  “No, only a few minutes.”

  He grunts in acknowledgment, his arms tightening around me.

  “We should probably talk about this,” I say, knowing full well the weight those words carry. “You know, you and me...”

  “I know,” he says. “It’s complicated.”

  “Well that’s an understatement.”

  The ghost of a laugh leaves his mouth.

  “I want this to work.”

  More than anything.

  “So do I, Isobel,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.

  “Can it, though?” I pull myself from his arms, sitting up in my distress. “A Montague and a Capulet? They’ll never leave us alone.”

  He sits as well, palms rubbing against his eyes as he does.

  “We’ll make it work.”

  “How?”

  His lips pull into a smile that has nothing to do with happiness.

  “I’ll worry about that.”

  He leans in, lips finding mine in a kiss that brooks no further argument. His hand climbs up to my head, fingers twining through my hair. All argument and all thoughts cease in my head, replaced with sparks of passion.

  I whimper as he pulls away, standing quickly.

  He grabs for his pants, sliding them on with an urgency that says the conversation is over.

  Really, what else is there to say? This ends one of two ways: it’s either we somehow, against the odds, find a way to be together...

  Or we die screaming. No middle ground.

  Without his touch, the thoughts come screaming back into my mind, racing around in an endless loop of worry.

  I push them aside with all of my strength. Worrying won’t help us.

  I pull the blankets aside, crisp morning air meeting my naked skin, and stand.

  Outside, the rain has finally come to a stop. Small droplets occasionally falling from the roof are all that remain of the storm.

  I cross to the terrace, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. Even from across the room, his gaze sends shivers racing through me.

  I bask in it, having never felt anything quite like his eyes on my naked flesh.

  The doorknob turns easily in my hand, and I make my way out onto the terrace.

  The fresh air greets me, purified in a way that only rain can manage. It smells like rebirth, like what remains when everything has been stripped clean.

  The grounds are saturated, sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, endless water drops blinking as far as the eye can see.

  I cross to the railing, my hands wrapping tightly around it.

  Will I ever get used to this sight?

  Behind me, I hear Tristan speaking on the phone.

  “I’ll be right there,” he says, before hanging up.

  He’s at my side the next moment, his eyes skimming quickly across the sodden grounds.

  “I have to go down and deal with some business,” he says. “Meet me for breakfast in twenty minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  He kisses me again, heat trailing down the length of me to pool between my legs.

  I watch him raptly as he turns to leave, his body completely entrancing me now more than ever. Now that I’ve been with him, I doubt I’ll ever think of him the same.

  Or anything for that matter.

  As the door closes behind him, I focus my attention back to myself, to the soreness between my legs and the sensitivity of my own mouth.

  I run my fingers across my lips, delighting in the puffiness he’s left behind.

  I’m no longer a virgin. The thought seems incredible to me.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was dreading the Governor’s bed, the rough parting from me and my virginity.

  How quickly things have changed.

  Last night feels utterly surreal. I fight the urge to pinch myself, terrified that I’ll wake up in my own bed, this whole night being nothing but a dream.

  I know better though; no dream has ever conjured the kind of mind-blowing passion that Tristan has awakened in me.

  My body tenses at the memory, tears of unspeakable joy threatening my eyes.

  I never knew that love like this was possible.

  None of my fantasies or daydreams have ever come close to the reality, to the depth of my own feelings.

  I love him.

  Never before has a word felt so inadequate.

  I love him.

  Suddenly, I need to be with him again, his absence striking me as near painful.

  I leave the balcony, heading instead to the bathroom. I twist
the tap on the tub, hot water cascading into the oversized claw foot tub. It fills quickly, and I waste no time stepping into it.

  I sink into the warm water, already grabbing a loofah to drag across my skin.

  Now that I’ve started missing Tristan, I move with urgency, unable to wait to be in his presence again.

  After I’ve thoroughly scrubbed and washed, I grab a towel from the rack, stepping out into the now foggy bathroom. The plush towel fits snugly around me as I cross to the mirror, running my hand down the condensation that’s gathered there.

  My reflection meets me with level eyes, the bright blue of them staring out at me. My face the same as ever before.

  I don’t know what I’ve expected to find here, but some distant corner of my mind feels surprised at the fact.

  I feel changed. Different.

  That the monumental events of the last day could be utterly absent from my appearance feels wrong.

  I run my tongue over my lips, irritating the sore flesh. At least I can still feel him there, the side effects of just how he’s changed me.

  I grab a brush, carved silver feeling cool in my palm as I rake it though my blonde hair. Tangles from a night well-spent give way with little resistance.

  Feeling wholly more presentable, I make my way back to the bedroom, stopping to pull my black slip dress over my head.

  There’s nothing more I can do, having left so much behind.

  The possessions are replaceable, no matter how luxurious they can be. I feel no connection to them. They were never anything more than tools meant to keep me complacent, anyway. Just more items on a list of my parents deceptions.

  My life was not luxurious, no matter what material items they threw at me.

  A prisoner is a prisoner, no matter if they wear an orange jumpsuit or designer garments.

  If my things were all that I had left, my conscience would be clear.

  However, as I make my way out of the bedroom, thoughts of Theo and Thelma once again plague my mind.

  I imagine their fear at finding me gone. What will they think when they hear the news?

  I know that if I was in their position, I’d be terrified. The fact that I’m here rather than the dank prison they must be imagining makes me cringe.

  I may not have chosen to leave, but I would never go back.