Captive Bride: A Dark Obsession Romance

by Dark Angel

  "I’m always good for more," I say and, even though my voice is quivering, it's good enough for me. With both of his hands on my hips, he closes in on me, the tip of his cock right against my drenched folds.

  "I could keep doing this forever," he whispers and, as he finishes his sentence, he simply rams his massive cock inside of me. But he doesn’t stop there—oh no. As he starts to thrust, hell bent on completely demolishing my pussy, he spreads my ass cheeks wide and then starts caressing my crack.

  When one finger of his goes over my asshole, he then starts pressing down on it, sliding his whole finger inside me. I gasp as he does it, but there’s more to come; using his free hand, he takes it around my waist and presses down on my clit with two fingers.

  Working on my pussy, ass, and clit at the same time, it’s only a matter of time until I explode. Finally, when he feels me on the verge of another orgasm, he slides his fingers out of me and gives me a break.

  But not for long.

  I’m screaming now, and I’m also moaning. God, I don’t even know which one I’m doing. I can’t see straight; I can’t hear a thing. This exact moment, the only thing my mind can process is the way Connor’s pummeling me, pushing me toward the edge of ecstasy. He does it relentlessly, almost as if he’s not a normal human being. He doesn’t tire, he doesn’t complain, he doesn’t let up; he simply keeps ramming his cock into me until I start forgetting who I really am.

  "Oh, God… Again… I’m gonna… come again..." I moan, feeling everything in me burning up, from my toes to the tip of my hair. He grabs a handful of my hair and, pulling on it, forces my head back as he buries his mouth against my neck, softly biting there as he thrusts his hips harder at me.

  "Oh my God…" I find myself saying, those flames of pleasure that lick at my muscles turning into a raging storm that makes me shudder and pant. "More." More? I don’t know why I’ve said it; I don’t know if I’m physically capable of enduring more pleasure, but it seems that desire has taken over me. I’m no longer in control. And now that I’ve said it, there’s no going back.

  Connor growls at me and, grabbing me by the waist, he keeps me on all fours as he prepares himself for the final minutes of this round. Oh, yeah, the final moments; soon enough we’re going to be home.

  Massaging my ass cheeks, he slides one hand between my legs and rubs his fingers from my clit to my ass, and then resumes his thrusting motion again. I press my forehead against the headrest, sweat trickling down my back, as his cock parts my folds and lodges itself deep inside me once more. I jut my ass back and start swaying my hips slightly, moving them from side to side as I rock my body against him at the same time.

  He presses into me with all his weight, and I can feel his hard breathing against my neck.

  "I love you, Connor…" I find myself repeating, knowing in my heart that no man has ever made me feel like this. And no, I’m not talking about the sex only. There’s that, of course, but it goes way deeper than just our bodies.

  "I love you too, Clarise," he whispers against my neck, pushing his cock so deep into me that I wouldn’t be surprised if my body broke in half. And what do I do? I push back against him, jutting my ass even more, and he responds by grabbing both my breasts hard, squeezing them against each other. He plays with my nipples by pressing them between his fingers, rubbing and pulling them, and pleasure starts dripping from my breasts to my whole body.

  I’m moaning so hard I’m surprised my throat isn’t sore already. God, there’s nothing better than letting it all out like this

  "Fuck, I want this every day for the rest of my life," Connor groans, and then he slaps my ass hard as he bends over and starts breathing hard against my neck; his hands go to my waist and, holding me in place, he starts fucking me like he's never done before, thrusting his hips into me so fiercely that my whole body is burning up. I didn’t even know until now that a person could move as fast as he’s moving.

  My moans turn into screams and, before I even have the time to realize what’s happening, fireworks are already going off in my mind. I’m coming, each stroke of his cock making my mind splinter into a million shards of pleasure. And, God, it couldn’t be any more perfect.

  He doesn’t stop or slow; he keeps pushing through my moans and my screams, pounding me mercilessly. Only five seconds have passed, and a tidal wave of pleasure is engulfing me once more, all my limbs shaking and trembling as I come like a madwoman.

  He keeps going until that overwhelming pleasure comes for him too; with one final stroke he pushes his cock as deep as it can possibly go. I scream, feeling both pain and impossible pleasure, and he holds it there. His cock sprays my insides in an instant, each spasm of his cock making a shiver go up my spine. I push my hips back at him as he cums, tightening my pussy around his thickness with all the strength I can muster.

  I hold my position, gasping for air and reeling from the maddening attack of ecstasy my body has just suffered.

  As he pulls back, I feel his cum dripping down my pussy to my thighs, thick strands of it running down my legs. I don’t know why, but feeling it running down my legs … it feels good.

  And you know what else feels good? If you guessed ‘having that cum licked off your pussy’, you guessed right. Closing my eyes, I then feel him bend over; he flicks the tip of his tongue against my cum-coated folds, taking them into his mouth and licking me dry.

  I keep in place as he takes good care of me, and I only dare move when he pulls back from me. Sitting up, I don’t take a minute to rest; no, I just turn toward him and kiss him, stealing whatever cum he scooped up from my pussy.

  "This was good," he breathes out, "but are you ready for round two?"

  "More than ready," I laugh. Jesus, I can barely stand on my two legs right now. "But if you want a round two, you’ll have to carry me all the way up to my bedroom."

  "You got yourself a deal … Just don’t get used to it."

  "No? I thought you were a gentleman."

  "Only when I’m around you," he says, and this time he isn’t joking or teasing. He’s being plain honest, the vibrancy of his words making my skin prickle.

  "I guess that, after all, we got our happy ending," I tell him, leaning into him and laying my head on his chest.

  "We did," he breathes softly, holding my head and running one hand through my hair. "We did…"

  Connor

  "I thought you had forgotten where I lived," Jonathan laughs, smiling at Clarise as he refills his glass of wine.

  "C’mon, you know I’ve been busy. Those assholes in Puerto Rico are driving me crazy," Clarise replies, taking the glass to her lips and sipping from it.

  "Those guys still?" Clarise’s mom asks, cocking one eyebrow. "You spoke about them last month."

  "Yeah, the guys at the port are making some kind of strike, so our ships aren't docking. Which has been a hassle, but I’m working on a way around it," she tells them both. "Well, me and Connor," she adds, reaching for me under the table and placing her hand on top of mine.

  We’re having dinner at the Donovan estate, which has pretty much become a monthly tradition. One month after Clarise became interim CEO, we decided to move out and look for something that we could call our own. We settled on a high-rise condo in the city, just a block away from the Donovan Tower; Clarise wanted to be as close as possible to work, and she didn’t get us an apartment in the tower itself because it doesn’t have any residential units. Thank God, or else we’d spend every waking hour of the day working.

  I might be a workaholic of sorts, but Clarise beats me at that. She’s happy, though, and that’s what really matters to me. It’s as if she were born to command a multi-billion dollar company; even during my years at the Order, I never came across someone as gifted as she is.

  Some people say that talent doesn’t exist, that it’s all a matter of hard work. Well, Clarise is a little bit of both; tons of hard work and a natural knack for winning. Yeah, I know how to choose women, don’t I? What? Yeah, I’m bragging a lit
tle bit, but I have every right to do so. After all, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world … and she’s mine.

  "Seems like my girl is kicking ass and taking names," Jonathan says, smiling wistfully as he looks toward Clarise. If that isn’t pride in his eyes, I don’t know what is.

  "No doubt about it," I agree, squeezing Clarise’s hand in mine. "She’s going to take this family to greater heights."

  "Of course," Jonathan and Carolyn say in one voice, and then they look at each other and burst out laughing. Since this house escaped Earl’s influence things have taken a turn for the better. Seriously, I never thought that Clarise’s parents loved each other so much until Earl went away. Since then, their love seems to have blossomed.

  Which kinda made me start thinking about Clarise and I. And that’s why I’m having this dinner. Yeah, it was my idea to have dinner at the Donovan estate today.

  "I’d like to say something," I start, going up to my feet as I hold a glass of wine. Clarise and her parents look toward me, slightly surprised, but they wait for me to continue. "I’ve never really thanked you for making me feel so at home. But I want to say it now; ever since my first day here, you’ve been like a family to me."

  "C’mon, Connor. These things don’t need to be said," he smiles, but I can tell that he’s happy with my words.

  "They do need to be said. Most of what we feel ends up being unsaid, and I don’t want to lead my life like that. Clarise taught me that we have to be true to ourselves, and follow our heart wherever it takes us."

  Looking around the table, I allow them a second for my words to sink in and only then do I continue.

  "I thought that my purpose in life was to help save souls… But, in the end, Clarise was the one who saved my soul," I look at her, smiling, and place one hand inside my pocket, grabbing the small velvety box I’ve kept there all dinner. "She’s my partner when it comes to work, but I want more than that… I want her to be my partner in life. Until death do us part."

  She looks up at me, her eyes glistening as they widen with anticipation, and then I simply push my chair back and go down on one knee. "Clarise, will you marry me?" I ask her, and tears start streaming down her face, ruining her makeup. She doesn’t seem to care, though; she just jumps from her chair and into my arms, embracing me so tightly that I can barely breath.

  "Of course I will! Of course! Yes!" she cries out, still not letting go of me. When she finally does it, she crushes her mouth against mine and only pulls back to look into my eyes, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen dancing on her lips.

  "I love you, Clarise. And I always will," I whisper, going up to my feet and pulling her after me.

  "Take care of my girl, Connor," her father tells me, and I can tell he’s feeling emotion as well; his usually hard eyes seem suspiciously clear, and I’d bet he’s trying to hold back the tears. Yeah, men can cry as well.

  "I will…" I tell him, and then he and Carolyn stand up.

  "This calls for a toast," he says out loud, and a servant appears out of nowhere carrying a bottle of expensive champagne. "Go fetch some more glasses," Jonathan tells the waiter with the bottle, and the man just looks at him slightly confused for a second. "We’re all drinking. Night off for all of you!" he cries out, grinning like a schoolboy on his first day of vacation. Right now, he seems to have shed twenty years from his age.

  "Connor, Clarise…" he then says as the servants gather around the table, at least a dozen of them. They’re all holding glasses of champagne, and they seem pretty excited about the whole affair. "There’s not much to be said… But I’ll drink to a happy life!"

  "TO A HAPPY LIFE!" everyone repeats, our voices rising up in a chorus.

  "And, of course, I’ll want grandchildren down the way," Jonathan doesn’t resist adding. "As many as you can."

  Clarise

  Clarise Donovan - CEO.

  That’s what the plaque outside my office reads. Yeah, that’s right, six months have gone by, and I’m no longer the interim CEO of this company. Nope, I’m the boss, and I call the shots without being second guessed.

  "I still have to redecorate," I tell Connor as I shut the door, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, savoring my triumph. After chasing this goal for so long, I’ve finally achieved it. Not that it was easy, mind you; these six months as interim CEO have been some of the most grueling times of my life. More than anything, it was a learning period… And I had to learn fast. Of course, Connor helped me every step of the way, and that made everything so much easier.

  "What’s wrong with your father’s decoration of the place?" he laughs, waving his hand at the stern bookcases lining every single wall. Yeah, my father didn’t care much about appearances; he only cared about doing a good job.

  "Nothing, really. It just needs a more feminine touch," I tell him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him into me. "Now, I remember you wanting something… What was it?" I ask him, pretending that I’m trying to remember something. "Ah, you wanted to christen this office, didn’t you?"

  "That’s right, I did," he chuckles, his hands running down the side of my body. "And it’s high time we do that."

  "Seconded," I purr, feeling my heart pump boiling blood straight to between my thighs.

  "But you’ll have to obey," Connor continues to say with a grin, a dangerous wickedness flashing behind his eyes.

  "Obey?"

  "Yes, you’ll obey… and if you do that, you’ll have what you want," he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

  "That sounds… fair," I reply, my heart racing faster and faster.

  "It is fair. Now … take off your dress."

  I take one step back and grin at him, taking my hands up to my shoulders. Obediently I pull down the straps, letting the dress slide down my body. I am wearing only my thong and a black bra in front of him, and now my pussy is so wet that I feel the fabric of my drenched thong sticking to my skin.

  "Turn around."

  Dutifully, I turn around, my back to him. I feel his fingers on me and wince. His touch is cold but, at the same time, seems to spread a dense heat on my skin. His fingers open the clasp of my bra, releasing it; he lets it fall to the ground, the humid air of the room caressing my erect nipples.

  "Take off the rest."

  Obedient, and without turning around, I take my fingers down to my waist and pull my thong down, letting it fall down my legs. I'm naked, my back turned to him, but he doesn't say or do anything for several seconds. And I don’t dare say anything. His strong presence is filling the whole room, and I don’t break that atmosphere.

  "Turn around."

  I turn to him, his eyes meeting mine once more. Finally, he looks at my body, his gaze sweeping every inch of me patiently. I feel the pressure of his gaze slipping from my eyes to my lips, and then to my breasts. His gaze goes lower, down my abdomen, my hips... Between my legs... A wild heat sprouts there, a desire that almost makes my body ache. I'm wet. Wet as only he can make me. I crave his touch; I want to feel it on my lips, I want to feel it on my neck. I want him between my legs, sating that urge.

  A smile of approval appears on his lips. He extends his arms to the side and throws his coat to the floor.

  "The shirt."

  I immediately know what to do. I take my fingers to his neck, touching the collar of his shirt. Loosening his tie, I pull it over his head and then I undo the first button on his shirt slowly; then I just keep going. The skin of his chest is tanned, his ripped muscles calling to me as if they were made of marble. And they really look like marble - his perfectly delineated muscles, the lines of his hard and strong chest... It’s as if his whole body has been brought into existence by the skillful chisel of a sculptor.

  I unbutton the last button of his shirt and pull it down, revealing his chest. My fingers touch his skin and I shudder, longing to feel all of him. But I know I can’t do it, not yet.

  His hands touch my waist, his long fingers pressed against my skin, and he pulls me closer, our bodies a few inches away
. He leans into me, his lips pulling back to reveal two rows of perfect white teeth, and kisses me.

  I kiss him back, my hand on his chest. He raises his arm and, grabbing me by the hair, pulls my head back and places his lips on my neck. I shudder, anxious, and feel the cold touch of his teeth brushing against me. He sinks his teeth into my flesh, and then the cold touch of pain fades; it's as if honey is entering my bloodstream, numbing my senses, the beating of my heart the only thing I can hear.

  He kisses me again and I enjoy my own taste in my mouth. He pushes me back against the desk and I gasp as I feel my ass pressed against the edge of it.

  "I’ve been dreaming of this for too long," he finally says, a grin taking over his lips. Reaching with one arm toward the desk, he swipes everything there to the ground; both the phone and the lamp tumble down to the floor, a few folders and documents follow after them.

  Pulling me up, he lies me down on top of the desk and climbs on top of me, hunched like a wild animal preparing to devour his prey. His chest touches mine, my breasts brushing against his soft cool skin, and I lace his waist with my legs, my mind screaming at him to make me his, to subdue and dominate me.

  He kisses me again, his waist on mine. My trembling fingers slide down his chest to his pants and, as if moved by an awareness that is not mine, I grab his belt and unbuckle it. My hand touches something hard and by now I'm almost salivating, knowing that he’s hard because of me. Unable to control myself, I wrap my fingers around his cock, over his pants, and press down.

  His hands fondle my breasts and then slide down to the inside of my thighs. His fingers brush lightly against the heat between my legs, my moisture transpiring in his hands. Instinctively I push my hips forward against his hand, eager for the touch of his hands and body against my pussy.

  He responds brusquely, pushing my body against the desk, his hand pressing hard between my legs.