by Alta Hensley
“Relax, don’t fight me.” Pope’s soothing words brought me back to reality.
I clenched on his fingers, struggling to ease my muscles and succumb to the intrusion. I moaned with a depraved sense of loss when he slowly withdrew his fingers from my ass and then groaned in pure pleasure when he switched hands, working his wet and oily fingers in and out, stretching my opening with each tantalizing pass.
Now we must prepare your tiny hole so that it is able to accept Pope’s manhood.
Again, I fought back the thoughts of Vivian’s perverse advice.
“Demi, don’t. It’s just us. No one else. Just you and me. Relax. Let me love you.”
I closed my eyes and relaxed as Pope had instructed. I relaxed and enjoyed every little delicious taboo move.
The next time he pulled his fingers free, I was panting, desperate for his wicked digits to return. He ignored my, “Please, Pope,” lifting me off his cock. He flipped me onto my stomach onto the cool tiled floor. “Stay still. Don’t move,” he commanded.
Hearing the sound of a bathroom drawer opening and closing, then a snap of a lid, a shiver worked its way down my body. Pope was getting lubrication. I didn’t need to see it to know what he had in mind next.
Moments later, his hand went between my thighs, resuming playing with my clit, reminding me of my out of control passion again. His hand returned to my behind and he began to spank lightly.
He bent over me and pressed his lips to my ear. “I’m going to fuck this ass.”
I jerked as I felt Pope’s cock nudge between the crevice in my behind. He spread my cheeks with his hands as he placed his hardness at my prepared opening. I cried out in pleasure as my tight hole eased open, stretching beyond what I thought possible.
“Pope, I’m not sure I can.” Doubt, mixed with lust, clouded my mind.
“Trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re so big, I don’t think I can take you.” I whimpered as he pressed his bulging cockhead forward.
“Relax your muscles. Allow me in. I need to have you here. Breathe, Demi. Trust that this will feel good. It’ll fucking hurt, but feel so good.” His words were followed by kisses against my neck.
Pope moved a hand to my pussy and slid through the folds. Gently rubbing my clit, he pressed his cock past all resistance, burying his thickness all the way in. A ragged cry escaped my lips as a searing heat exploded deep within my anus.
Intense pleasure heightened with every move of his possession. “That’s right. Just like that. Feel me take your ass.”
Pope pressed two fingers into my pussy, moving in time with the thrusts of his cock in my tiny hole, letting me feel the pleasure of double penetration. His cock plunged harder and deeper inside of me as my moans echoed in the bathroom. Convulsive ripples ran from my anus to my pussy as an all-encompassing climax threatened to conquer me completely.
“Oh, God. Pope...”
“Press back into me. Drive my cock all the way into your ass. Make it hurt, allow the sting to make you come. Have the pain in your ass take away the pain in your heart. Fucking feel me!”
I did as he ordered. Shuddering, crying out, bucking against his hardness, I allowed the electricity to shoot through all parts of my body. I could only hold still as Pope grabbed my hips and forcibly thrust his cock hard one last time as he shot his seed deep within my forbidden channel.
No more pain.
No more darkness.
Pleasure. Long awaited pleasure.
20
The sound of Pope walking out on the deck to join me for our morning cup of coffee and fruit had my heart leap out of my chest. I had woken from a night of nightmares and hours of tossing and turning, and still couldn’t shake the feeling. It still seemed impossible that Viv was dead. Vivian was dead.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Pope asked as he sat down and picked up his mug of steaming brew.
I shook my head. “Barely, and when I did, I kept dreaming I was caught in that fire. I even had one dream where Vivian was holding me down against the floor, refusing to let me up as the shop burned around us. And then I had others where Maria and the baby were in the flames.”
Pope reached across the tiny table and touched my arm tenderly. “It’s all over. You’re safe now. And I called a friend of mine back home and asked for him to check on Maria and Luis last night before you and I went to bed. He texted me this morning telling me they were safe and sound with no sign of Richard anywhere to be found.”
I took a huge sigh of relief hearing the good news. “The rational part of me knows that. But then I can’t help but feel as if any minute I’m going to hear that southern twang dictating how I should be a dutiful wife or else. I know she’s gone, but I guess it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“The entire situation was fucked. It’s to be expected that it’s going to take time for you to get over all that happened. It’s been an awful time.”
I looked out onto the property as the morning sun shone brightly and saw the family of deer return for their breakfast grazing. It was like all the other mornings, yet today I was free. “It hasn’t been all bad,” I said softly as I sipped my coffee, almost in a trance as I watched the deer.
“No, it hasn’t been all bad,” Pope agreed.
I looked at him. “How are you doing? You lost your momma. Are you all right?”
He shrugged. “It hurts, but in many ways I had lost her years ago when Vivian entered our lives. She never was truly my mother after that. And when I went to prison, I had said my goodbyes to her then. I really hadn’t planned on ever seeing her again. I thought she would have died before I was released. So I guess in many ways, I have already grieved her death.”
I took a deep breath. “So, I suppose we have to face reality now. What to do now that I’m free.”
“We do.”
“I’m assuming Maria is worried about me.” I shrugged. “Maybe not. She might have just assumed I skipped town. I’m sure my work and apartment did.”
“Regardless, we need to get you back. It’s a good day to fly. Weather’s good.”
A new sense of dread filled me. What if I didn’t want to leave? What if I wanted to stay? Would that make me as insane as Vivian had been? What would Pope want? Was this really all over?
After a few minutes of silence and my mind going crazy in thoughts, Pope asked, “Can we go for a walk?” His words broke me away from my onslaught of unanswered questions.
He stood up, set down his coffee and then mine. I reached for his hand and linked my fingers through his. I offered a smile as I stood, finding it impossible to give the man anything but. He made me happy. He made me smile.
Pope squeezed my fingers tightly between his as a shiver of delight went through me. The simplest of touches confirmed that Pope was the only man for me. No one had ever had such control over my emotions, my thoughts, and my body. Pulling me into his embrace, he just held me, his breath warm against my cheek. I didn’t want to leave Pope. I didn’t want this all to end, and the thought of my life returning to the way it was, shattered what was left of my soul.
After a few moments, he pulled back to look into my eyes and rested his palm against the side of my face. “We’ll figure this all out.”
I nodded. A glimmer of tears filled my eyes as the pain in my heart subsided. Pope reached out unexpectedly and gripped his hand around my waist. In one swift movement, he lifted me off the ground and pressed me hard against his chest. Cradled so hard in his arms against him, I could feel his heart beating. His mouth came down powerfully on mine, his tongue plunging past my lips as if he were claiming me, possessing me as his. I clutched my arms around his neck as the world whirled around us, leaving nothing but overwhelming love.
I parted my lips, my hands desperately clinging to the fabric of the back of his shirt. Our tongues danced together as electric currents rippled through my body. My sex dampened at the sensation of Pope’s body pressing against mine. My mind spiraled out of cont
rol with the knowledge of the erotic gratification we could bring each other. I melted into his embrace as he lowered me down to the wooden deck and very gently led me down the stairs.
We walked beside one another over the expansive land of the property. The sun began to climb above the horizon, casting a warm glow amongst the clouds. A cool breeze blew softly, causing my curls to escape from the loose bun I wore.
“I want to show you something,” Pope said as he reached for my hand.
The soft caress made my pulse quicken. I wanted more of his touch.
As we reached the other side of the house, I squinted my eyes to block out the sunlight to make out the stunning picture before me. In nicely lined rows of five, stood at least twenty newly planted rose bushes.
I stared at the roses with bewilderment and awe. “These are beautiful! I know you both worked so hard on them. Viv would have loved seeing them start to bloom like they are right now.”
Pope took a deep breath. “She wanted this to be the location of our wedding.” He looked around and took in the blooming roses and sighed. “Ever since the day you were brought here—forced here—I’ve felt complete. You’ve changed and improved my life even though our world was in complete chaos. I hated that I wanted you. I despised the fact that a part of me was grateful that my mother had kidnapped you for me. It was so fucking wrong, yet I couldn’t deny that fact. You were everything I ever wanted. That I needed. You’ve given me something I didn’t even know was missing. You’ve given me love. You’ve given me light. And you’ve given me hope.”
Pope walked us both so we were standing in the middle of all the rose bushes. He brushed his lips lightly against mine, giving such a delicate kiss.
“You were brought here against your will to marry me. But you deserved better. You deserve romance, and a fairytale story of the day your husband proposed. Not the nightmare my mother gave you. Gave the both of us. You deserved all the things a dutiful and proper husband would give you. I didn’t give that to you... until now.”
He smiled softly and got down on one knee. I began to cry at the sight of this strong, powerful man, on one bended knee, giving me the proposal I had fantasized about since being a little girl.
“I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you. And I would be a fucking fool to let you leave here not knowing how much I want you to stay in my life—by choice.” My heart pounded so loud in my ears that I could barely hear him speak. “I want you in my life because I love you. Not because my mother is blackmailing us, but because I don’t go a moment without thinking of you, without wanting you, and without loving you.”
I wiped at the tears streaming down my face. A sob escaped my throat as I stared down at the most handsome man I had ever seen kneeling before me.
“Demi Wayne, will you please do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?”
I threw my arms around his neck, knocking him to the ground. I straddled him on the grass, with the rose bushes all around, kissing him deeper and with more passion than I had ever done before.
Pope pulled away after a few moments of kissing me back with just as much fervor. “Is that a yes?”
I nodded and laughed alongside my tears. “Yes, yes! I love you! I love you! I love you!” I gave him a few more kisses and pulled back enough so I could see his entire face clearly. “I’ve never wanted anything more than you.”
He laughed and kissed me lightly. “I love you. And I’ll tell you those words every day of our lives.”
My eyes burned and my heart swelled. “I want nothing more than to be your wife.” I gave him a playful wink. “Your dutiful and obedient wife.”
With a light chuckle and his eyes growing tender, Pope pressed his lips softly to mine. “I want you to remember this feeling you have right now. This massive amount of love we feel. Because as your husband, I vow to make sure you feel this every day, for the rest of our lives.”
I leaned against Pope, content and at peace as I gazed up at him. “So what do we do now?”
Pope sat us both up, but still held me in his arms. “We head back home and tie up loose ends for you. Of course, check in on Maria and Luis for ourselves. See if your apartment is still there and your belongings.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to return there. Can’t we live here forever? I want to leave that dark part of my life behind me.”
“Yes, we can, and I was hoping you would say that.” He kissed the top of my head. “I want nothing more than to be here with you every single day.”
Relief washed over me knowing that I didn’t have to leave this wonderful haven I had somehow found a sense of home in for the first time. Viv had given me a home. She had given me love. For that, I would be forever grateful.
“I have something I need to give you,” Pope said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a letter. “My momma gave me this right before she died. She wanted you to read it.”
My heart sunk when I saw the paper, remembering the other twisted letters from before. With shaky hands—reminding me of how Viv’s hands also shook—I took the letter and began to read.
Dear Demi,
You were my friend. My real and true friend. I can never apologize enough for what I have done to you and for the pain I have caused. I am so ashamed. Even though I know you don’t blame me, but rather blame my illness, because of the type of person you are, I still hope for forgiveness.
I love you, Demi. I know I have never said those words to you, but I do. I never had a daughter, but if I had, I would have wanted her to be just like you. And if I had lived to see the day you had married my son—regardless if it was because Vivian made you—I would have been so proud to be your momma.
I know I can’t ask anything of you. I don’t have that right. But please don’t remember the worst of me. Please don’t blame my son. Pope has been through so much, and I just hope you can show him the same amount of compassion that you showed me. Be his beacon in his thick darkness caused by me. Give him the light I so want him to have.
I don’t know what is in store for you and my son. I can see love is there. Though I know many wounds are as well. Heal together. Maybe you won’t become his bride, and you both will part ways when I am gone and Vivian has no more control. But if not… if you both decide to explore the love I see in your eyes, then allow me to give you some REAL motherly advice. A good wife is a wife who opens her heart and loves unconditionally. A dutiful wife is someone who returns the same love and passion that her dutiful husband gives her. And when you say your vows, remember each and every word. Read those vows when times grow dark. Live those vows. Become those vows.
I will be looking down on you both. Momma will be watching with love. Always.
~Viv
I was quiet for a long time after reading Viv’s goodbye to me, enjoying Pope’s embrace, allowing the words in Viv’s letter to sink in. Feeling Pope’s breath dance with my hair. Hearing his heart beat against my cheek. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the feeling of sincere, genuine, true love.
Finally, I whispered, “I take you. To honor and obey. Till death do us part. This is no longer my captive vow.”
The End
About the Author
Alta Hensley is a USA TODAY bestselling erotic romance author who has had #1 top-selling books in dark, contemporary, BDSM, erotic science fiction, humor, suspense and historical. She writes the hot, dark, and dirty romance.
Being a multi-published author in the romance genre, Alta is known for her dark, gritty alpha heroes, dirty tabboo, sometimes sweet love stories, hot eroticism, and engaging tales of the constant struggle between dominance and submission.
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Also by Alta Hensley
His Caged Kitty
Bad, Bad, Girl
Delicate Scars
Little Victorian Ladies
No White Knight
Dark Feather
Caring For Citrine
Traditional Love
Traditional Terms
Traditional Change
Poppa's Progeny
In the Palace of Lazar - Harem (Book One)
Conquering Lazar - Harem (Book Two)
The Slave Huntsman
The Dark Forest
Captured by Time (with Carolyn Faulkner)
A New Forever (with Carolyn Faulkner)
Enrolling Little Etta (with Allison West)
The Nanny (with Allison West)
Little Secrets (with Allison West)
Maddox, The Black Stallion Trilogy #1 (with Maggie Ryan)
Stryder, The Black Stallion Trilogy #2 (with Maggie Ryan)
Anson, The Black Stallion Trilogy #3 (with Maggie Ryan)
Delicate Scars
Is it possible to pick that one defining moment in life that fucked you up? Can anyone look back on their life and pinpoint the exact minute it happened? I used to believe that I wasn’t fucked up. I had absolutely no reason to be.
Until I met him.
Axel Rye.
Yes.
He fucked me up.
He really fucked me up.
It all started so simply. I only wanted to write a book about the dark, gritty world of nightclubs, booze, drugs, and sex. I didn’t expect to be sucked in to the point where I could no longer see the light. But I became weak. Axel Rye made me weak.
He was wrong in every way. He was a drug dealer, a criminal, and the kind of man your parents told you to stay away from. Yet, he became my drug, and I shook in need until my next fix.
I was delicate.
He was scarred.
But together…together we became delicate scars.
