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Keep Me

Page 15

   


No, don’t go there, Nora. The last thing I need is to wake up screaming from another nightmare.
“Please make sure we’re not disturbed tonight,” Julian instructs Ana, “unless it’s something urgent.”
“Yes, Señor,” she murmurs, and disappears through the wide double doors leading out of the entryway area.
“Ana is one of the staff here,” Julian explains as he guides me toward a wide, curved staircase. “She’s been with my family in one capacity or another for most of her life.”
“She seems very nice,” I say, studying my new home as we walk up the stairs. I’ve never been inside such a lavish residence, and I can hardly believe I’m going to be living here. The decor is a tasteful mix of old-fashioned charm and modern elegance, with gleaming wooden floors and abstract art on the walls. I suspect the gilded picture frames alone are more expensive than anything I had in my studio apartment back home. “How many people are on the staff?”
“There are two who always take care of the house,” Julian answers. “Ana, whom you’ve just met, and Rosa, who’s the maid. You’ll probably meet her tomorrow. There are also several gardeners, handymen, and others who oversee the property as a whole.” Pausing in front of one of the doors upstairs, he opens it for me. “Here we are. Our bedroom.”
Our bedroom. That has a very domestic ring to it. On the island, I had my own room, and even though Julian slept with me most nights, it still felt like my private space—something I apparently wouldn’t have here.
Stepping inside, I cautiously survey the bedroom.
Like the rest of the house, it has an opulent, old-fashioned feel to it, despite several modern touches. There is a thick blue rug on the floor, and a massive four-poster bed in the center. Everything is done in shades of blue and cream, with some gold and bronze mixed in. The drapes covering the windows are thick and heavy, like in a luxury hotel, and there are a few more abstract paintings on the walls.
It’s beautiful and intimidating, like the man who is now my husband.
“Why don’t we take a bath?” Julian says softly, stepping up behind me. His powerful arms fold around me, his fingers reaching for my belt buckle. “I think we could both use one.”
“Sure, that sounds good,” I murmur, letting him undress me. It makes me feel like a doll—or maybe a princess, given our surroundings. As Julian tugs off my shirt and pushes down my jeans, his hands brush against my bare skin, causing tingles of heat to ripple down to my core.
Our wedding night. Tonight is our wedding night. My breathing quickens from a combination of arousal and nerves. I don’t know what Julian has in store for me, but the hard ridge pressing against my lower back leaves no doubt that he intends to fuck me again.
When I am completely naked, I turn to face him and watch as he takes off his own clothes, his well-defined muscles gleaming in the soft light coming from the recessed ceiling. His body is slightly leaner than before, and there is a new scar near his ribcage. Still, he’s the most striking man I have ever seen. He’s already fully erect, his thick, long cock jutting out at me, and I swallow, my sex clenching at the sight. At the same time, I am cognizant of a faint soreness deep inside and the continued tenderness of my bruised bottom.
I want him, but I don’t know if I can handle any more pain today.
“Julian . . .” I hesitate, unsure how to best phrase it. “Is there any way . . . Can we—?”
He steps toward me, framing my face with his large hands. His eyes glitter brightly as he looks down at me. “Yes,” he whispers, understanding my unspoken question. “Yes, baby, we can. I will give you the wedding night of your dreams.”
Chapter 7
Julian
Bending down, I hook my arm under her knees and pick her up. She barely weighs anything, her small frame impossibly light as I carry her to the bathroom, where Ana prepared the jacuzzi for us.
My wife. Nora is now my wife. The fierce satisfaction I feel at the thought makes no sense, but I don’t intend to dwell on it. She’s mine, and that’s all that matters. I will fuck her and pamper her, and she will fulfill my every need, no matter how dark and twisted. She will give me all of herself, and I will take it.
I will take it all, and then I’ll demand more.
Tonight, though, I will give her what she wants. I will be sweet and gentle, as tender as any husband with his new bride. The sadist inside me is quiescent for now, content. There will be plenty of time later to punish her for her reluctance at the church. At this moment, I have no desire to hurt her—I just want to hold her, to stroke her silky skin and feel her shuddering with pleasure in my arms. My cock is hard, throbbing with need, but the hunger is different now, more controlled.
Reaching the large round jacuzzi, I step in and lower both of us into the bubbling water, sitting down with Nora ensconced on my lap. She lets out a blissful sigh and relaxes against me, closing her eyes and putting her head on my shoulder. Her glossy hair tickles my skin, the long ends floating in the water. I shift slightly, letting the strong jets pummel my back, and feel the tension gradually draining out of me despite my lingering arousal.
For a couple of minutes, I am content to just sit there, holding her cradled in my arms. Despite the sweltering heat outside, the temperature inside the house is cool, and the hot water feels good on my skin. Soothing. I imagine it feels good to Nora too, easing the soreness from the bruises I inflicted earlier.
Lifting my hand, I lazily stroke her back, marveling at the smoothness of her golden skin. My dick twitches, clamoring for more, but I’m in no rush this time. I want to prolong this moment, to heighten the anticipation for us both.