Captive Bride: A Dark Obsession Romance

by Dark Angel

  God, her name feels good on my tongue.

  I lift her, and her legs wrap instinctively around my waist. I carry her to the nearest wall. Her back meets it with a dull thud, eliciting a small moan from her mouth.

  “God, I love you,” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear.

  Instead of responding with words, she reaches down, unzips me, and grabs my throbbing cock.

  “Fuck me,” she moans. “Oh, please, fuck me now.”

  I cave easily to her request, sliding her down so her pussy is where I need it to be.

  Outside, sirens still wail, footsteps echo throughout the mansion.

  I don’t care. I ignore it all completely.

  The only thing that matters to me now is right in front of me, pressed hard against the wall, moaning my name in need.

  I grab my cock with one hand, positioning myself before her. My eyes find hers, staring intently into them as I start to slide into her.

  She moans louder, her body thrusting, trying to shove me inside herself faster.

  “Slow down,” I whisper. “I promise, we have time.”

  She nods in acknowledgment, but her eyes seem uncertain.

  I suppose our time could be even shorter than I thought. Still, I refuse to not enjoy this. If this is my last night on earth, I’m going to drag it out for as long as possible.

  I thrust slowly into her, savoring the feeling as each inch sinks into her dripping wet pussy. I look into her eyes the entire time, loving the way they widen the deeper I go.

  She reaches up to grab my hair, her body tense with frustration.

  “Please, Tristan.” she moans.

  I give in, beginning to thrust harder, fucking her like the maniac that she makes me. Her pleading transforms, changing to cries of ecstasy.

  She clings to me frantically, her finger nails digging deep into my skin.

  “Fuck!” she screams, her pussy tightening around me.

  “Yes,” I tell her. “Come for me, Isobel.”

  She does as instructed, screaming my name as the orgasm rips through her. I shove my cock even more deeply as she comes, needing her to feel me fully, to take every throbbing inch.

  When her body stills, I turn, carrying her quickly into the main room of the suite.

  I stop in front of the large four-poster bed. The Governor’s own.

  That filthy fuck. May he rot in hell.

  The footsteps drawing near tell me I may be joining him shortly. I block them out.

  I throw Isobel onto the bed, her tits bouncing as she hits the mattress. She looks up at me, her eyes streaming tears.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I truly believe it, too.

  We may be in our last moments of this life, but that won’t stop us.

  Heaven or hell, paradise or the abyss—we will be together. There isn’t a level of creation that could keep me from my love.

  There isn’t a void dark enough to stop me from finding her.

  “I love you,” I say again, kissing her hard before spreading her legs beneath me.

  “I love you, Tristan,” she replies, reaching up to pull me closer to her.

  She doesn’t stop crying, merely burying her face into my neck as I push myself back into her.

  I feel her moan against me, her fingers scraping the length of my back.

  I’ve only just started to thrust when we hear the bullets start up beyond the door. She flinches as the explosive sounds echo through the mansion, but she doesn’t stop meeting my thrusts.

  “I don’t regret it,” she says suddenly. “I want you to know that, Tristan. I don’t regret anything, not a single second. I’ll gladly die, if for no other reason than it’s the price of having you.”

  I think of all the time I’ve spent without her. All the loneliness and pain that I felt before she came into my life.

  I never, in a million years, would have thought someone like her would speak those words to me.

  My heart fucking breaks.

  I wish we had more time.

  “I don’t regret it either,” I tell her. “Loving you is the only good thing I’ve ever done. I’m happy to die with you. I’d rather die a thousand deaths at your side than live without you.”

  “At least we got to have this,” she says, reaching up to run her hand down my face.

  I’m completely overcome with love for her.

  My entire body screams with affection.

  I channel everything—joy, pain, loss, and love alike—into this moment. I put my entire being into our final moments, fucking her like there’s no tomorrow.

  Because there might not be.

  She matches my energy, grabbing me tightly so that she can thrust against me just as hard. Her every movement drives me deeper and deeper into her.

  I feel fire racing through me, burning me, consuming me.

  No one has ever made me burn the way Isobel does now.

  She tightens again around my cock, her moans growing longer and louder. My name finds its way to her mouth, and she screams it repeatedly.

  Coming from her lips, it sounds like a prayer.

  I pray along in my head:

  Isobel.

  It’s the only prayer I’ve ever needed to know.

  Certainly, if there’s any salvation at all for someone like me, it’s here now. It’s my name on her lips and my cock inside of her.

  I’m saved by the grace of her touch.

  Her moans turn to screams, her body moving even faster against my own.

  Her mouth claims mine in a kiss more passionate than I thought was possible.

  We come together, clinging wildly, possessively to one another.

  We scream as one, sounds of utter ecstasy, our voices raised so loud it almost drowns out the gunfire.

  39

  Isobel

  Blows strike the door in quick succession.

  Bone-rattling booms echo around the room like war drums.

  Tears flow freely from my eyes.

  This is it.

  This is how we die.

  Tristan pulls himself out of me with an agonizing feeling.

  The void of our separation feels like death.

  “Tristan...” I whisper frantically, grabbing for his hand.

  He clutches my fingers tightly, leaning in for one final kiss.

  “I love you,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.

  The door gives way with a deafening crash, solid wood falling to the floor with unbelievable force.

  I close my eyes tightly, my only hope now being that death is quick. Tears squeeze from my pinched eyelids.

  A moment passes.

  Another.

  “Well,” a voice says. “Isn’t that sweet.”

  I cling to it like a lifeline. I know that voice.

  “Merc!” Tristan shouts, voice heavy with relief.

  My eyes fly open, breath catching in my throat. Abandoned hope sputters to life within me.

  “Benny!”

  They stand in the doorway, angels of salvation disguised as bruised and bloodied mobsters. Tristan and I leap from the bed as one, smiles of pure joy lighting our faces.

  Merc laughs as his eyes trail the length of us.

  I lower my gaze as well, realization dawning.

  Fuck, I’m naked.

  I move my hands to cover myself, pointless of course, but it feels fitting in this situation.

  Tristan doesn’t bother.

  “Your dress?” he asks, eyes skimming the floor.

  I see it across the room, what’s left of it anyway. Delicate lace lies in tatters, Tristan’s handwork.

  “Oh, right,” he says, eyes following mine.

  “Where’s the one I came in?” I ask, already making my way quickly to the Governor’s closet.

  Merc gives me a We don’t have time for this look, but I proceed anyway.

  As I suspected, my real clothes lie in a heap in the corner.

  I pull them on q
uickly, black dress, boots, and dagger securely in place.

  “Please tell me you have a way out,” Tristan says to the guys when I reenter the room.

  Benny grins mischievously.

  “Like a secret passage?”

  Tristan nods. “Yes...like that.”

  “Follow me,” Benny says, the world’s brawniest tour guide.

  The sound of approaching feet echo down the hall, bullets lashing out intermittently. Death, it seems, hasn’t forgotten us yet.

  We waste no time running after Benny, his own grin now tucked back behind a mask of determination.

  Tristan’s hand finds mine, squeezing tightly as if he’s afraid of losing me now.

  I squeeze back just as hard, feeling the same.

  Benny and Merc lead us to a room at the end of the hall, pulling the door shut quietly behind us.

  “This way.”

  Merc approaches a bookcase.

  Of course it’s a bookcase.

  I wait for him to pull the secret lever. I’m surprised when he instead wedges a candlestick into the side. Like a tire iron, he leverages it to force the door.

  Not one for delicacy, Merc.

  It swings open on well-oiled hinges, the perfect hidden escape.

  My thanks to the Governor.

  Merc and Benny take the lead, motioning for us to follow.

  Tristan goes ahead, hand still grasping mine in a death grip. Together, we walk into the shroud of darkness.

  The stairwell smells dank like a cave. The scents of stone and water wash across my senses, giving me the impression of being underground long before we are.

  After several flights of winding steps however, we’re clearly well below ground level.

  Benny leads the way with a flashlight. It’s dim, but helpful.

  I only trip once, my boots catching on a crack in the ominous tunnel. Of course, Tristan is there to catch me. His hand never leaves my own.

  It feels like we’ve been walking for a very long time, my adrenaline refusing to slow down. If anything, the possibility of escape seems to have only made my heart beat faster.

  Before, in the Governor’s room, there was nothing more. We were dead and just didn’t have the sense to stop fucking.

  Now, life once again pulls at my mind, promising happiness, promising tomorrow.

  It terrifies me even more than the looming presence of death.

  Every moment, I expect to hear footfalls rushing up behind us. I picture the tunnel collapsing, earth-like water raining down upon us. I hear gunshots, though I know there aren’t any down here.

  When the ground begins to slope upward once again, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  In a matter of moments, this tunnel has transformed from a lifeline to a tomb, and I’m ecstatic to be free of it.

  A few minutes later, we reach more stairs. They wind tightly upwards, towards freedom. Our escape.

  I patiently wait my turn, Merc and Benny going ahead to make sure there aren’t any traps. Tristan goes behind me.

  Safely sandwiched between them, I climb the stairs towards the hatch covering them.

  When Benny finally returns to tell us it’s safe, I nearly throw myself through the opening.

  The cool night air washes over me, caressing my skin as it brushes back my hair. A chill creeps through me, invigorating and welcome.

  We’ve emerged a couple of blocks from the Governor’s mansion, several from Tristan’s penthouse. The streets stand near empty, abandoned in the late hour.

  “Should I call a ride?” Benny asks.

  “No,” Tristan answers quickly. “At this point, I trust no one. We’ll walk.”

  He turns to me, planting a kiss on my lips as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. He pulls onward, our feet running against the concrete, eerily loud in the still night air.

  The events of the last few hours seem to spill from me, panic and terror fleeing in the face of my newfound safety.

  We’re alive.

  Both of us.

  No matter how hard people have tried to kill or cage us, we’re here. We’re free, and more importantly, we’re together.

  His body presses against my side, warm despite our surroundings.

  I’ve never felt safer than I do at his side.

  I was raised in a virtual prisoner’s tower, countless armed guards swarming the grounds day and night. I was under constant supervision, kept under lock and key.

  Despite all of that, I never truly knew what it was to feel safe.

  I never really understood the concept until I was pulled, kicking and screaming, from my old life...until I landed at Tristan’s side.

  Going with him now, I feel warmth and life rushing through me.

  All the forces in the world could never drag me back to where I came from. Not now.

  I lean toward him, needing to close any space that remains between us. I feel, in this moment, that I am where I truly belong.

  I am home.

  40

  Tristan

  I have my princess safely back in my arms.

  It’s like I can fucking breathe again.

  The thought of spending my life without her had been too great a burden to bear. Now, her safety is my number one priority, like never before.

  Fuck the family name.

  Fuck honor.

  Fuck everything I once thought I had stood for.

  Isobel was right to begin with. We should’ve just escaped. Even if it meant running forever.

  As long as she would be safe with me, I think I can do that.

  Or can I?

  The idea of getting my ultimate revenge is still on my mind. Yes, the Governor is dead. She helped me to accomplish that.

  But what about her father and that rat’s nest of a family?

  I feel like making the Capulets pay for everything they did to us. The entire fucking family.

  It’ll take some long-range planning, but it will be worth it. Most of all, I just have to secure Isobel’s future.

  I don’t want her to run forever. I want her to be safe with me.

  I get her inside the penthouse, already feeling much better having her under my watch in a place I can control.

  I have guys everywhere—more guys than ever before. And Merc and Benny and I go about planning our next move.

  “I’m gonna go change, considering I technically died in this,” Isobel says, trying to crack a joke.

  I don’t blame her. She’s been through so much tonight. We all have.

  And I feel like I have to fucking pinch myself to realize that she’s still alive and that she’s still mine. I will never let her go again ever.

  I feel responsible for what happened, and I’ll be damned if it repeats itself.

  I go to her and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Okay, baby. Go take a shower or something and relax.”

  Then, I pull her close to me and kiss her deeply. I’m never going to waste a fucking second with Isobel.

  She’s my treasure, and I’ll always treat her as such.

  In the meantime, I go back to Merc and Benny.

  I walk over to the bar and pull out a very special bottle of scotch.

  “You guys, I think we should crack this open. You fucking saved us tonight. Without you, Isobel and I would be dead. You’re like my fucking brothers, and I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  Merc comes over to me and examines the rare bottle. “It’s okay, Tristan. We would always do that for you, you know that. We ride and die together. In the meantime, I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

  “Of course, man, you got it. We can drink this while we plan our next move.”

  Benny comes over to us and takes a seat.

  He says, “Come on, Tristan. You know we weren’t gonna leave you hanging. We always have your back. And remember, I’m always one step ahead of the enemy.”

  I smile at him and pour us each a heavy drink.

  I raise my glass.

  “To taking down our enemies.”


  We all clink glasses, but there’s a sort of bitterness behind it. Merc, Benny, and I have been dealing with this Capulet war for as long as we can remember.

  I’d like to think it’s finally come to an end and that tonight was the last and final battle.

  But in truth, this war might still rage on into the future. As long as there are Capulets still breathing, I know the fighting will continue. But as for me, my part in all this killing may be done.

  I want to put Isobel first. And that may mean bowing out of the game, finding a new identity and profession.

  “You guys, we’re gonna have to move. We need a new location where we can build a new life.”

  “Tristan,” Benny says. “I was thinking that maybe the Montague mansion in Vienna would be a nice place for Isobel to stay. It’s far removed from here, and you can leave the dirty work to us.”

  I think about what he’s saying. Vienna is an obvious choice. Why didn’t I think of it?

  And I know he’s right. We have to get Isobel out of the city. I’m going to get her as far away from our enemies as possible.

  I have to keep my possession, my treasure, safe.

  “That sounds like a fucking fantastic idea, Benny. Can you have it arranged?”

  “Of course.”

  I sit with my guys around the table and look out at the remarkable city view. I realize this is one of the last times I’m going to see it—if all goes well.

  I know that tonight has changed things.

  I will never live here again.

  I will never live so close to Capulet territory.

  My main priority from this moment forward is to make sure my princess is free and happy.

  Speaking of princess...I think about Isobel and that she might need a drink, too.

  I pour her a glass of scotch and take it to the bedroom where she’s likely getting out of her war-torn clothes.

  “You guys, I’ll see you later,” I say to Merc and Benny.

  They smirk at each other, knowing exactly what’s about to go down.

  I need to get to Isobel.

  I need to be inside of her.

  “Have a good night,” Benny calls after me.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say.

  Then, I walk to the master suite to check on her. Inside, I see her standing fully naked.

  She’s about to get into the shower. It looks like I came just in time.