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Black Forever

Page 22

by Victoria Quinn


  I assumed that meant Christopher didn’t realize that this Isabella and the one who shot me were one and the same.

  Jackson clearly didn’t know what to say. He eyed me like he wanted me to handle the conversation.

  “Isabella and I used to be involved,” I explained. “A long time ago.”

  “Oh…” Christopher leaned back and looked down at his food. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”

  “No, it’s alright,” I said. “And she’s the one who, you know.” I didn’t want to mention the story in front of my mom. She would get upset, and since she wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, it was a waste of time.

  “Oh…” Christopher stopped chewing, speaking with his full mouth. “Shit, I didn’t make that connection.”

  “She’s a good girl,” I said. “You should go for it.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow. “A good girl? Are you kidding me?”

  Rome’s mood darkened, her feelings about Isabella obvious. She would never forgive the woman for shooting me, even if it was an accident.

  “She made a mistake,” I said. “I know she didn’t mean to do it.”

  “But she meant to allow Hank to kidnap me,” Rome said darkly.

  “She didn’t know what he was going to do with you,” I said. “She was depressed and out of her mind—”

  “Don’t defend her,” Rome hissed.

  Mom kept eating, her head down once the conversation became tense.

  I didn’t want to get into this with Rome in front of everyone. We didn’t talk about Isabella or Hank anymore. Now we just lived our lives—in happiness. “All I’m saying is, if you’re looking for a woman from Ruin, she’s a good match.”

  “Well, I’m kinda looking for a wife,” Christopher said. “You know, someone who’s pretty, got her shit together, and knows how to cook. The basics.”

  “That’s sweet,” Mom said. “You’ll find someone special if you look hard enough.”

  “She’s definitely not the wife type,” Jackson said with a laugh. “She’s more of a pit stop on the race track.”

  “Christopher.” Rome’s cold voice cut through the conversation. “I don’t want you anywhere near her. I don’t tell you what to do or who to see. But she’s off-limits. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

  That was the worst possible thing Rome could say.

  “Now she’s forbidden…” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “I’m being serious, Christopher,” she hissed. “She’s not good enough for you—even if it’s just for the night.”

  “Aww.” He patted her on the shoulder. “My little sister is protective. Pointless, but cute.”

  Rome returned her attention to her dinner, finally dropping the conversation.

  We were having a great night, so I decided to change the subject to chase away the tension. “Rome and I are taking a trip to Martha’s Vineyard for our anniversary. We’re gonna have some wine and relax by the pool.”

  “Geez, that sounds boring,” Jackson said. “I’d rather go to Vegas or something.”

  “For an anniversary?” Christopher asked. “I’m not romantic, but even I know that’s not a good choice.”

  “It’s not boring when you’re in love.” I looked across the table and made eye contact with Rome. She was still angry, her lips pressed tightly together in irritation. She tried to avoid my look because she wanted to stay angry. When she was in a bad mood, she did her best to stay that way.

  But under my ruthless stare, she didn’t last long. Her heart called the shots, and her eyes obeyed. She looked at me across the table, those pretty emeralds weak against mine. Her lips slowly softened because she easily fell victim to my powerful look.

  For our anniversary, we would dine on wine and cheese and make love in the cottage I rented on the vineyard. It would be a great way to celebrate a year of marriage, the best year of my life. Everyone was busy talking about Vegas, so I mouthed to her across the table, “I love you.”

  That was the final nail in the coffin. Now she was completely vulnerable to me, a meal on a platter. She pressed her lips together firmly as she repressed the smile that wanted to stretch across her mouth. The joy moved into her eyes before she moved it back. “I love you too.” Isabella was forgotten. Hank was forgotten. Even everyone at the table was forgotten.

  It was just the two of us.

  Rome lay on the bed, her head dangling over the edge with her face to the ceiling. Her mouth was wide open, and I was fucking her throat at the foot of the bed. One hand gripped her firm tit while the other gripped the edge for balance.

  I rammed my cock inside her warm mouth, hitting her deep in the throat every time. Her saliva dripped down her face and onto the carpet at my feet. “Mrs. Owens…just like that.” Anytime I had the opportunity to call her by that name, I did. I didn’t care about referring to her as sweetheart anymore.

  She kept her tongue flat and only breathed when I gave her the opportunity to. She’d become an experienced submissive, doing the things I enjoyed without hitting her own triggers. We’d come to a good understanding of what the other person could handle. She didn’t fulfill every single desire I had, but she made up for it in other ways.

  I was on the verge of coming since I could see my cock press against the inside of her throat. Her skin moved every single time I thrust, and seeing my own definition made me want to squirt down that beautiful throat of hers.

  I pulled out then grabbed my belt from the floor. “On your stomach, feet on the ground.” I slapped the belt against my hand and made a cracking noise, telling her I meant business.

  She turned over and moved to the edge of the bed, but she held herself up on her hands and knees.

  “On your stomach.”

  She shook her ass in my face. “Master, punish me.”

  I slapped the belt against her ass hard, wanting to punish her for defying me. “Call me Husband. Nothing else.” I’d thought Master was the most powerful word in the world, but when she called me Husband, it gave me a new thrill. I loved it.

  She gasped when she felt the belt bite her skin.

  “On your stomach.” I wanted to spank her like a child over my knee.

  She still didn’t cooperate. “You want to be punished more?” I slapped her with the belt again, making her shift forward. “These aren’t part of the ten, just to be clear.” I’d give her ten new ones when she was in the right position.

  Rome turned over, wearing her black bra and thong. She looked beautiful when she was stripped down to her undergarments, her brown hair soft and curly. Her eyes contrasted against the darkness of the room, completely beautiful. “Calloway.”

  I slapped the belt against my hand since I couldn’t hit her when she faced me like this.

  “I don’t want to lie on my stomach because…” Her hand moved to her stomach.

  I eyed her hand, unsure what was happening. Did she have a stomachache? Did she feel sick? I didn’t have a clue. She’d seemed fine a second ago when she was sucking my dick. “What is it, Mrs. Owens?”

  She looked down at her stomach, taking her time before she said her next words. “I’m pregnant, Calloway.” When she lifted her chin, reluctance was written all over her face. She was scared of my reaction, scared of this unexpected news.

  We hadn’t been trying. She’d been taking her pills as far as I knew. We hadn’t even talked about children yet. I assumed it would happen at some point. I just figured it would happen intentionally.

  I had my doubts about being a father since my own was worthless. But Rome would be there with me the entire time. It wasn’t like I would be alone. While I had my darker world, being in charge of Humanitarians United still made me a great role model. Or I could just walk away from Ruin altogether.

  It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

  But all those questions and discussions could happen at a different time. Right now, she needed my assurance that I was happy, that I would love our baby as much as I would love her. I dropped th
e belt on the ground then placed my large palms on her slightly distended stomach. I’d noticed she was rounder in that area, but I never cared enough about her physical fitness to pay attention to it. She was perfect, in my ways.

  I kneeled down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, my eyes on her. “That’s wonderful, Mrs. Owens.”

  “Really?” That single word escaped her throat with such relief that it filled the entire room. Her hands moved over mine, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I know we didn’t plan for this and—”

  “It’ll be alright.” I kissed her stomach again and rested my forehead against her belly, unable to believe there was life growing inside her. “I’m happy.”

  “You are? I was scared what you would think…”

  “I’m your husband. How can I not love anything that comes out of you?” My hands slid over her bare stomach to her hips. I rose to my feet then leaned over her, forcing her back to the mattress. I had been intent on fucking her senseless, but now I wasn’t interested in something so harsh. I wanted to make love to my wife, to celebrate the beautiful thing we made together. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart—both of you.”

  Her hands cupped my face, and she gave me a look of love that had deepened over the years. With every passing day, it grew bigger and stronger. She didn’t just look at me as the man she fell in love with, but as the man she wanted to spend her life with. We’d be together every day until time ripped our bodies apart. But our souls would always remain intertwined.

  Forever.

  About the Author

  Keep in touch with Victoria Quinn and get the latest news about upcoming releases at

  www.VictoriaQuinnBooks.com

 

 

 


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