The Marriage Debt: Chapter 35

When we’re finally in the penthouse again, I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t think I’d make it back here alive. Or that this place would be so … clean.

The cleaners and renovators did an amazing job getting it all done. All the shards of glass from the mirror I shattered are gone, as well as all the bullet holes left by the fight between Luca and Nick.

What a difference two days make.

I’ve been staying at the same clinic as Luca because he didn’t want me to leave his side. Not that I could. There were family guards around the clinic, making sure no one unwanted came in to endanger us while he was at his weakest.

Luca closes the door behind us. “Finally. We’re alone.”

I can’t help but spin on my heels and look at him. There’s an animalistic look on his face that’s hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know why,” he says, stalking toward me. “For two fucking days, I’ve been wasting away in that hospital bed, unable to do anything while you sat there on your chair, looking at me like you were worried.”

When he scrapes past a table with his waist, he cringes.

“I am worried,” I reply, and I immediately run to the fridge and take out some ice cubes. “Here.” I lift his shirt and rub them against the wound.

The look on his face darkens. “I don’t want you to fucking worry.”

He grabs my wrist and lifts it in the air while I’m still clutching the ice cubes. “I want you to fucking see me.”

“I do see you,” I reply, confused.

He steps closer until we’re only inches away. “No. You still think I’m in pain and in danger, don’t you?”

I shake my head, but I’m lying to him and me.

He pushes me all the way to the middle of the room, still clutching my wrist. I don’t dare to let go of the ice cubes. “You’re so wrong. After all this time, you still don’t understand.”

“I don’t want you to—”

He plants his finger on my lips and drags it down. “There is only one thing that destroys a man like me. And it’s not having what I desire the most.”

My whole body heats up when he’s so close to me, but it doesn’t feel right. He just came out of the clinic, still busted up because of me.

“Listen to me, Jill. I’m stitched up. I feel fine,” he says, gripping my waist to pull me closer. “But I’m done waiting to have you.”

My breath clamps in my throat, and I’m getting all flustered from the mere idea of doing anything with him when he’s still recovering. But when he plucks the ice cubes from my hand and smashes his lips on mine, I’m light-headed from the adrenaline surging through my body.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs against my lips.

I oblige, willfully, greedily, like I’ve been longing for his commands.

The air whooshes back as he walks away, and I’m left feeling bereft of touch.

And then the guilt washes over me again.

How could I want him so badly when I’m the one who wounded him? It’s not right for me to—

Suddenly, his mouth claims mine again with full fervor, and I’m completely overtaken by the sudden lust overwhelming my body. But the sharp icy cold sting hitting my lips causes me to lean back. “What is that?”

“Open your mouth.”

I do what he says, even though my eyes are still closed.

His tongue swivels inside, and I’m mesmerized by the sheer control he exudes while placing the ice cube inside my mouth. It’s both hot and cold at the same time, the mixture of sensations almost too much for me.

“Suck,” he whispers against my lips.

I gleefully do what he asks, sucking on the cold ice cube as though my life depends on it.

“Arms up,” he says, his voice low but composed.

When I do what he says, another cold zap against the back of my arms makes me suck in a hard breath. The second ice cube is slid down along the inside, causing goose bumps to scatter across my skin. He reaches my tank top and pushes it aside with ease until my boob spills out. The cold ice cube slides over my breast all the way to my nipple, and it makes me swallow a shriek.

“Cold, bunny?”

Bunny.

I used to hate that nickname so much, but now …

Now it makes me want.

Deeply.

Hard.

“Good.”

Luca tugs at my sweatpants and slips his hand inside, along with the second ice cube. I try not to squeal, but it’s hard when the ice slides down my slit, right on top of my clit.

I moan against the cube in my mouth.

“I don’t like it when you think I’m weak, Jill.” Luca groans as he plays with my clit and alternates his finger with the ice, driving me insane. “It makes me want to punish you.”

I mewl with delight when he pushes the cube inside me. “Fuck.”

“Hmm … what’s that?” he whispers, circling me until he’s behind me, and he wraps one hand around my throat while the other roams freely across my pussy lips. And I can feel the ice cube melt inside. “You want me to fuck you?”

He tilts my head to the side and claims my mouth from behind, sliding his tongue in, expertly swerving around mine until he’s stolen the ice cube again. “Beg.”

“Please …” I murmur.

It used to be so hard for me, but now it comes easy.

Just like my need for him.

All my resistance—gone.

Just because of the way he kisses me.

Because he doesn’t just kiss. He owns.

Every inch of me is ready to yield. Ready to bend to his will.

And he knows. He loves every way he can make my body bend. The control he has over me is a kick to him—a complete and utter loss of inhibitions—and that’s what he wants. I realize now it’s all I’ve ever desired … to relinquish my soul and feel like I belong.

Like my heart matters so much someone would kill for it.

Die for it.

Just like he would.

Fuck.

“I want you dripping wet, bunny,” he says, and I writhe up against him. “I will never, ever stop claiming what I want from you,” he groans in my ear. “Do you understand what that means?”

I nod in delirium from his hands still swiveling across my clit, and the ice cube firmly lodged inside me.

“Just like I told you before … I want your submission.”

“Yes,” I mewl.

His hand curls around my throat. “Now tell me again what you told me two days ago. After our fall.”

My lips part, air squeezing out, as the memory sends me into a panic.

“Relax,” he commands, shoving his finger up my pussy, reminding me I’m here, right now, with him. Safe.

“Say it, say the words you know I want to hear, Jill, and you’re mine. Forever.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

It’s the only thing that he’s always wanted.

The only thing he could never steal.

The one thing I had left to offer.

That day, I gave it to him freely, willingly, knowing what it would cost me.

I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

He grins against my neck, the feel of his teeth against my skin exhilarating. “Good … because I’m not going to stop giving you a goddamn earth-shattering orgasm every single day for the rest of your life for as long as we both fucking live. Understand?”

Oh, God.

I nod a couple of times as he presses his thumb against my clit.

“Good girl …”

His hand leaves my panties, leaving me hungry for more, and he moves away again.

“Wait there.”

I still haven’t opened my eyes, simply because he hasn’t told me to, but man, is it hard when he’s being so coy.

Suddenly, his breath hits my mouth, his hands—no, something metallic—clasps around my neck.

I gasp, my fingers instinctively moving up to touch it.

“You chucked my ring away,” he says.

“I-I’m sorry,” I mutter, feeling the guilt wash over me again.

“This new collar means more than that ring ever will,” he murmurs. “I love you. And I want you to remember that when I fuck your brains out and call you a slut.”

Fuck.

That made my pussy throb.

I nod even though I’m anxious from the thought of having another collar around my neck, an object of control to keep me from escaping. From having a choice.

He presses a soft but smoking-hot kiss at the left side of my lip. Then he grabs my hand and places something inside. “Open your eyes.”

When I do so, they instantly widen. He pushed a key into my hand.

“I’m keeping this,” he says, clutching the one that has a bunny emblem on it. The one that belongs to the collar I can’t stop touching. There’s a bunny engraved in the metal too, and the sides are embellished with fluffy pink feathers.

He circles around me again, wrapping his arm around me as he slides aside my hair to whisper in my ear. “The key in your hand is yours.”

“What does it open?” I ask.

“Everything inside this house,” he says, planting an indulging kiss beneath the collar. “I’m giving you what you wanted more than anything,” he whispers. “Freedom.”

I almost drop the key right there and then.

He’s giving me freedom?

True freedom to go wherever I want?

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

I swallow. Hard.

“I’m not going to tell you to stay. I want you to choose, Jill,” he whispers, sliding his hand down over my sweatpants, covering my pussy like it was always his to begin with. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t true. “Even though you belong to me, bunny.” He pauses, the sound of his breaths near my ear making me hyperaware of my own arousal. “But know that I will never, ever stop chasing you.”

“Never?” I mutter. The thought of him stalking me, watching me, is somehow a turn-on rather than a scare.

And it makes me wonder what he’d do if I did.

“Never,” he reiterates, a wicked smile forming on his face. One I recognize all too well.

One I crave more than anything.

He groans like an animal when he adds, “Now run, little bunny … run.”

Fuck. Me.