Chapter 28

Astrid

A fter the second round, he feeds me grapes and meat from a tray the cook sent up. His gentle fingers massage every muscle in my body. Then he falls asleep while his fat cock is still planted deep inside of me.

The pressure on my bladder awakens me from a surprising rest, which turns into a gnawing twist in my stomach. Once I reach the toilet, I can't decide whether to hurl or pee first. But do so in that order. Just to be sure, I find another pregnancy test and take it. While brushing my teeth, my eyes dance toward the test often, but the lines are clear.

Bert survived.

When I return to the bedroom, my husband's muscular back is splayed across the entire king-sized bed, as well as his tattooed arms. Slipping beneath one, he stirs enough to grip me tightly and pull me under his weight. "Don't leave me again."

One of his fingers dances over my ribs, and I giggle at the tickling sensation, enjoying his playfulness. He presses his lips to my temple and sighs a sleepy breath onto my skin.

"I won't. But the baby…she's still here."

The side of his face scrunches into a broad smile. "That's my baby. My baby boy."

"Girl. And she's ours ."

He flips to his side and spoons me, his biceps pinching around my waist. "You're mine. Therefore, he's mine, too."

Some moments pass where I think he's returned to sleep, nuzzled up against my back. But I can't settle. "I need a meeting with the families. I want to discuss what happened to me."

When he goes still, I sense an argument. "I don't think?—"

" I want to talk with them. Have someone set it up for us. They should listen to me now that I have first-hand knowledge of what the societies' plans are."

His arms wrap around me tighter as a tiny chuckle huffs into my ear. "Yes, angel. I'll have Sev set one up. We'll have to meet outside a government building, though. I blew them all up."

Shrugging, I take a deep breath. "It was for the best."

"Can you tell me what happened first?"

My fingers thread between his as I scoot back into him. "I was so angry with you. No, I was hurt . It felt like when I understood that you only wanted my womb for your revenge and nothing else."

"I did. But you taught me how to love. So, now, I want to make a child with you , my wife."

"I love you, Vincente, but…"

The warmth of his lips as he presses them into my shoulder encourages me to continue. "I want you to want to help the people of this city, too. To not just eradicate Clavius and Herodius for your mother's revenge."

His body stills, then he sits up. Without letting me go, he drags me up until my head rests against his chest. The drum of his heart beats at a rapid pace beneath my ear, easing some lingering nerves. "It wasn't just for that. Though that is a big part. It was because they enslaved me just as much as the men and women they traded. They used my name to get their work done without my permission. I've been trapped, just like the women who chose to stay here. If we left, life would have been worse."

Lifting my chin, my eyes stare into his gray ones. "So let's make it better for everyone."

"I don't like everyone. Only you."

It's too much to expect him to try to fix this for the welfare of the citizens here. My fingers trace his tattoos across his chest. Then, I tell him.

I explain about walking down the drive, thinking I was going to just keep going. Not really having a clue about where to go. There was a small explosion, then the men snatched me and threw me in a van.

Describing every detail of the dark room, I note how it was nothing compared to the darkness in the cell beneath us now. That the coffin, much like my crate, became home if only for a little while.

But their threats against Bert were the worst.

"And they said if I brought you to the Crimson Angel alive, but bound, then they wouldn't come for us."

Vincente strokes my hair back from my face and nods. "But you're not doing that."

"They said they wanted to bleed me on the Winter Solstice, but I don't even know when that is." Pausing, I ponder on the question that's been burning through me the entire time. "I think they were trying to get Bert to die inside me without spilling any blood. Make her suffocate in that coffin or starve her out."

His gray eyes darken as he lowers his eyelids, then lays his head back against the headboard. "Yes. They can't have you bleed until their ritual. They love their symbols." Quieter, almost to himself, he mutters, "Which will be their downfall."

"This is why we need to discuss this with the families. They need to understand the threat against them coming soon . If I don't hand you over, what do you think they'll do?"

A tiny smile forms on his lips, and he opens his eyes to look into mine for a meaningful moment, then he kisses me tenderly. "I love your optimism and tenacity. We'll go meet with the families. But I'll warn you…it won't end the way you hope."

My fingers dig between his as I squeeze his hand. It feels like he's my strength, in a way. The force behind my power. "I have to try, but before we go, could you do one thing first?"

Warm breaths from his parted mouth huff onto me and the desperation I feel for him is reflected in his expression of love. "Anything, angel."

"Put my collar back on me."

A small gasp escapes his throat. "You-you want the collar?"

My hair catches in my mouth as I nod rapidly. "You said I have a choice. I choose to be branded as yours."

His face softens as he finds my ring finger and twirls the gold around. "Always. You'll always be branded mine. And I'm yours."

He's right. Despite wearing a gown that's fit for a queen, it feels like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not as I face the six people in front of me. Vincente's hand never leaves my waist as he stands at the head of a rickety table left standing in a pile of rubble from some old store in Center City, the only place everyone agreed to meet.

Guards line the walls and Sev stands behind us. But I think he's mainly here for a show.

While my frame quivers with nerves, my husband's expression turns stoic, like he's a statue of some sort as he addresses the room. "Thank you for coming, my gentle people."

"We won't be gentle when it comes to you," a burly man, I think Senator Freidenberg is his name, roars. The woman beside him places her hand on his and we meet eyes for a moment. There's sympathy behind them. But I'm the one who feels sorry for those who live in their own ignorance.

A small brunette woman, Arianna Donovan, sits across the table from her. Her eyes trace my figure up and down, as if judging my clothing scrupulously. I narrow my gaze back with a show of dominance. Overall, it probably lands flat, considering how young I feel compared to the others in the room.

Mrs. Von Dovish stands with a machine gun resting over her pregnant belly against the far wall with some guards. Even though her figure seems like a badass, there's some innocent fear in her face. Out of everyone here, she seems more like a reflection of my internal state.

When the men do glance at me, it's with pity in their eyes. Like I'm a captive brought here by a tyrant. The look sets my teeth on edge. They have no idea what the real problem is here, blaming their troubles on the man who can help them.

"My wife has something she'd like to tell you."

Ace Donovan snorts loudly. " Wife ."

Vincente's head hangs, which makes the rage rising in my blood start to boil over.

"Let him speak," the man with a worried face at the opposite end of us says. Calum Von Dovish. Vincente says he's the most dangerous person in the room—after me.

Their lack of respect for my husband makes me jump in before anyone else cuts him off. "Clavius and Herodius kidnapped me."

Max Freidenberg glares at the consort. "Maybe that was a good thing."

"I can assure you, it was not, Senator Freidenberg. But please , continue to interrupt and watch your entire city be thrown into slavery." I don't mean to snap out the words with vitriol, but I'm disgusted and angry. It's probably juvenile and not befitting the Queen of the North Side, but I need them to understand the urgency. "Oh, yes. They have plans to continue their trading here in our city. You're still leaking your armories to them. And you—" I point to Cal Von Dovish. "They operate off your funds, too. And the casinos in the South."

"But most of their money comes from sex trafficking. Aren't you… I'm sorry. Aren't you his slave?" Arianna Donovan nods at my neck, and my fingers instinctively touch the leather bound around it.

"No, I'm his wife."

Mrs. Freidenberg clucks her tongue and shakes her head with a sneer painted on her upper lip. "And at eighteen, too… Did you even wait, Strauss? Child bride, was it?"

The feel of his fingers tightening around my hipbone makes me feel the same. If I only had a machete…

Sighing heavily, I try to keep them on track. My thoughts get muddled with the wrath that's threatening to take over. "You're not paying attention to the important points?—"

"Why should we listen to Strauss's Stockholm bride?"

"This is a trap if I ever heard of one. What? Wanting us to go destitute for you? Make our people starve? We can't starve harder , Strauss."

"She's a child! A literal child! "

The murmurs all flow together, and I shake my head, trying to figure out how to get their attention. Vincente's eyes seem to be directed around the perimeter as he considers the guards.

"What did they ask you for?" Cal Von Dovish interrupts everyone with a calm question, and all the heads at the table turn to face me again.

With the soothing nature of his voice, I'm able to give a polite reply. "Um…for my husband, bound, and at the Crimson Angel on the Winter Solstice."

Mrs. Von Dovish speaks in a low tone to her husband, "That's tomorrow."

"So?" Ace Donovan rubs his hands through his hair.

I come to the realization of just how much these people hate the man I love. I spit out the question, hoping he'll prove me wrong. "What do you mean?"

"So give him up already and let us be free. We can rule this city with three families. The fourth only gets in the way." He points to his senators at the table. "The six of us are a great check and balance system. The people can have an actual vote instead of being ruled from here out."

Mr. Freidenberg finishes his thought. "But only if he is gone."

My husband straightens up and clears his throat. "I apologize to the Senate. It seems you've been misled. I understand it would be best for the city if I'm gone. The people would get a vote, and you could lead by representation of your sides of the city. The North can be split equally among you all. But you still need the societies out of the way."

With sadness coating his brow, he glares at the table. A soft murmur escapes as he speaks to the floor. "I never killed your families. I understand you won't believe me, but Clavius killed the Freidenbergs as well as the East Side. Then they killed the Donovans for diverting the casino funds to an offshore company instead of paying what they considered their dues." He lifts his gaze to consider the room of people who only scoff at his words. "My attempts to gain marriage with you, Mrs. Freidenberg, and you, Mrs. Donovan, were purely in an effort to produce an heir and combine families so that the societies wouldn't gain a foothold."

The cold strikes my side when he lets me go to brush off his suit coat with his palms. Fierce gray eyes meet every set in the room for a good, long minute before he finally speaks again. "I understand you think I should sacrifice myself for the good of the city. But you don't deserve an ounce of it. Fuck every single one of you ."

With the deadliness in his tone, I feel like flipping every one of them off. So I do. As I hold up both middle fingers, my husband snatches one of my hands. He leads us toward the exit, but I pause and reach for a guard's machine gun on the way out. The man turns away so I can't take it from him as my husband continues to pull on my arm. "No, leave them. Let's go."

My nails dig into his forearms as I fight him to spit at the rest of the families still sitting at the table, but he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. "You heard him. Fuck you! " I scream as we leave the building.

"You gotta calm down before I spank you."

Stilling in his hold, I heave a sigh as he tosses me in the backseat of the Hummer. "Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please fucking spank me. Wreck me. Damage my insides. I'm desperate for it. I fucking need you to be my master right now. Before I explode."

Heated palms clutch my cheeks as his fingers press into my scalp. "Listen, little girl. Your master will take total control of your body if you say shit like that. Do you want me to hurt you?"

"Yes."

"You need me to be rough, don't you?"

"Yes, master."

His nostrils flare as he breathes rapidly. " Oh , my angel. I'm going to enjoy punishing you all night."

He needs it. I need it.

I can't stand this feeling. If I'm set free from this car, I'll lay waste to the city with him.

But he grips my wrists once he slides in next to me and holds my arms firmly between his legs as Sev jumps into the driver's seat to cart us back to House Strauss.

"Pull out my cock and put it in your mouth. Now."

Laying across his lap, my fingers work over the metal zipper and lower it with eagerness. I fish out his girthy length and place my lips around his head like he taught me. Instead of a relief or satisfaction, he seems to have no reaction whatsoever.

"Suck."

Using my tongue, I pull him deeper into my mouth as he spreads his arms across the back of the seats. I briefly wonder how much of this Sev can see. I'm sure he's used to it.

"Stop sucking. Hold it." I do just as he says, but he's so big, it makes it difficult for me to swallow. "Suck." Sliding down, I massage his shaft with my lips. My jaw begins to ache. "Stop. Hold."

The entire way home, he instructs me. At one point, I'm not quick enough, and his palm strikes my ass so hard, I lurch forward, spilling spit all over his crotch.

As soon as the Hummer slows to a stop, he grabs my hair and pulls me off him and clutches my jaw between his finger and thumb. "Get naked. Go to the dungeon and stand next to the pillory. I won't be gentle."

Trying to catch my breath, his eyes ice over, but they still hold a fire behind them. One lit just for me . My pussy aches at the thought of how harsh he'll be.

By the time I reach the room where we had sex over the dead man, I'm naked. And a bit chilly. But he doesn't take long to meet me, sans his shirt. His black belt is still looped through his trousers, but he has them splayed open at the waist.

With a flourish, he grabs a white sheet from a standing cabinet and spreads it across a padded table in the center of the stone-walled room.

"On your back."

I thought he was going to lock me in the pillory, but his fingers snap with insistence away from it. I hurry and lie down. Turning away from me, he grabs a bright red contraption off some hooks drilled into the wall.

"This is a yoke. It has holes for your head and hands. These larger ones are for your knees." Some level of panic strikes that I'll truly have no ability to move while he does whatever he wants. But my inner walls flutter with anticipation of him using me just how he desires.

"Okay."

He situates me in the yoke and it's surprisingly comfortable as I lie on my back like a dead bug with my hands and legs up and spread out. My entire core is exposed for him.

"Who has control here?"

"You do, master."

"That's correct, my precious angel. You don't think anymore. All you need to do is obey and feel. If you want to stop or be let out, tell me, and I will end things immediately. But if you're crying and pleading no, I won't. You must tell me to stop. And you'll do that by saying ‘ Crystal Maiden.' Repeat that back."

Some affection for him grows… It was such a small thing that he latched onto. A tiny detail about my life that made him interested. And he still remembers. "I'll say ‘Crystal Maiden' if I need to stop."

A sharp snap hits my ass as soon as the words leave my lips, and I scream.

"This is a crop. I'm not going to gag you because I want you to wail with pain. Terror. Anguish. Let it out. Or I'll take it out on you."

"Yes, master." He strikes me again as I sob. It feels good, however, as soon as the hit releases. A burning sensation coats my bottom, then he turns from me again.

I can't see much of anything other than the low-beamed ceiling and his handsome face when he stands between my open legs. When he returns, and a pressure builds on my asshole, I almost choke on my tongue. "Wha?—"

"A plug. I'm taking your ass."

Slowly, the instrument twists and turns as it pushes against me. It's slippery and hard . "I don't think that will—" Another harsh swat with the crop shuts me up.

"You don't think. I do that for you."

"Yes, master."

Working the plug slowly, he pushes it into me as I yell against it, but as soon as it's fully inside, it's less intrusive. And becomes pleasurable. He works it in and out of my hole steadily, but whenever I moan from the sensation, he smacks my ass again.

"Thank me for your spanking."

"Thank you, master."

Finally, he stops with the plug and the sound of the crop clangs as it hits the ground. Then, his clothes. He stands at the base of the bed and jerks himself while squeezing strings of lube onto my backside.

His face holds a small smirk as he rips the plug from me, and I jerk at the removal. "You need to come with my dick in your ass, little girl. But not until I say you may."

Just as I nod, he plunges inside me, piercing through my tight asshole with vigor. A violent roar rips from my lungs as he does, but I can't move away. I have no control.

"That's right. Let me take all the pleasure and you get the pain." His palm strikes my sore thighs with every formidable plunge of his hips. It only makes the discomfort I feel worse. Tears fall from my cheeks and a choked wail claws its way up my throat. Grasping my face, he plunges farther inside me as I try to scoot back on the table. "Does it hurt, my precious little girl?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No!"

"Such a good girl, but a filthy and dirty one." Standing up, he rampages into my ass while holding my feet. Occasionally slapping my thighs, he tosses his head back while his abs dip with his thrusts. "How does it feel to be used like this? To know I'm getting everything from your body while you can only lie there and let it happen? A fuck doll. A toy. Unable to think… Only to be used."

His words make my pussy leak and the burning and tearing in my backside transforms into a tingling heat deep within my core. "It… I love it."

A broad smile forms on his lips, and he turns his head to find my ankle. Letting his tongue swath over it, he sucks for a moment while his thumb works its way to my pulsing clit. My back arches in response, craving release that's just on the periphery. As he digs in harder, my orgasm rises within my body. Especially when he adds a few fingers to my pussy.

My wails turn to wanton need, and he bites my leg to bring my attention back to his body. "Ask me. Ask your master permission to come."

"Please, master. May I come?"

"No."

He drops my foot, then spanks my ass as I cry again. "I'm going to fill your ass with cum, and only then will you explode for me. Because you'll know how much you need an ass filled in order to feel good."

I think the terror of what he'd do to me if I did come without his permission makes me pause, but the sensation of going over the edge is almost unstoppable.

Gripping my hips with one hand, he strokes himself rapidly through my back hole while rubbing my clit harshly with his other. "Oh, fuck. My little girl is so tight. I'm about to breed your ass. You may come."

The screams that rip from my lungs feel as if they surge through my body, catapulting me to a new dimension of pleasure. Knowing he just filled me and used me the way he wanted, plus the sensation of his dick stretching deep inside my ass, makes it more intense.

Before my pussy has even stopped pulsing, he's undoing my yoke and pulling me into his chest as he gathers me in his arms on the table. "My angel. I love you."

Our lips caress, panting the same air into each other's mouths. "I love you."

Brushing back my hair, he gazes into my eyes. "Call me Vincente."

"I love you, Vincente."

His lips press to my forehead as he carries me upstairs to our bathtub, then gently massages every part of my body.

We fall asleep much as we woke up. His heavy figure completely surrounding mine as if protecting it from all the dangers of the world.

I only awaken to pee again. Little Bert is becoming a burden to my sleep.

It's still too early to get up for the day, so I wash my face, brush through my hair, and head back to bed, then stop. My husband is gone, the sheets tossed to the side.

On the nightstand beneath the glowing lamp stands an envelope addressed to:

My angel.