Chapter 27

Sadie

I t was late afternoon when we reached the infamous Las Vegas Strip. By then, the tension between Keelan and I had subsided. I couldn’t say that what happened in St. George wasn’t intense, but for once, I didn’t resist when he took my hand in his on the center console. Fucking in that stranger’s pool while the woman watched in horror stirred something dark and wild within me. Keelan didn’t care that we had been caught. He didn’t care that the woman would call the police about what she saw, creating a more dangerous situation of being caught before we reached Vegas. All he cared about was making me feel so goddamn alive.

And he did.

Keelan wanted me, not just as his possession after our fathers gifted me to be his wife. Maybe it started off that way, an obsession he didn’t want to let go of. But something changed along the way. When he apologized, something had fundamentally shifted in his eyes. Keelan cared about what happened to me. I knew that now. Even right before I tried to cave his skull in, the look on his face when he thought I had died in the trunk was real.

The thought of losing me scared him deeply.

But it also confused me. Keelan had never cared for anyone other than Mia before. He wasn’t capable of it.

Maybe I was too broken to mind that someone who killed indiscriminately wanted me alive and safe.

I guess we can be broken together.

Together like a mosaic of jagged shards of colored glass fitted into a beautiful abstract of our souls.

Keelan placed his hand on the bandage we placed over his wound before we left St. George and winced.

“Are you okay?” I asked, but it was a ridiculous question. That was twice now I had split his head open with a hard object.

“It won’t be my first scar,” he said with a gentle smirk. “It’ll match perfectly with the terracotta pot one. A memory of our time together.” I laughed at that, our first inside joke. He smiled at me with a warmth that pulled at my heart. “Alright, I need you to come in with me to check in,” Keelan said as he pulled into the Bellagio’s entrance. When we reached the valet’s stand, he reached behind, grabbed a black baseball cap from his duffel bag, and put it on, covering the dressing. Even with the hat and the green zip-up hoodie that hid the tattoos, Keelan still looked sexy as hell.

He climbed out of the car and walked to the other side before the valet could open my door.

“Move,” he said, giving the young man a look that had him retreating a step. He opened the door and held out his hand. “Mrs. Blake. ”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Ms. Ryan,” I reminded him for the thousandth time.

Keelan gave me an amused grin as I climbed out of the car. He tossed the keys to the valet before grabbing our bags from the backseat. After handing the man some cash, he was given a ticket, and we headed for the doors.

A rushing sound drew my attention, and I turned around to see that the iconic fountain had begun a show. “How much cash did Gavin give you before you came to get me?” I asked. “This place is expensive, and knowing how you are in Vegas, you wouldn’t have booked the cheapest room.”

Keelan paused and gave me a playful smirk. “I do like to make a statement, especially after what we did in St. George. I’d be surprised if we make it a night before police track us here. It was quite a show.”

I blushed, pressing my lips to keep the smile away.

“Aiden and Logan booked the room for us under an alias. This place doesn’t accept cash, anyway.”

Fair point.

“When did you have time to call them and tell them we were coming?”

“While you were in the trunk.” He said it so nonchalantly that I couldn’t help but laugh.

We entered the lobby, and I took a moment to admire the décor of the Bellagio. I hadn’t been here for almost three years, and it was just as beautiful as I remembered. I made a mental note to ask Keelan to take me to the Botanical Garden later.

He led me away from the doors, past the front desk, and toward a set of stairs leading to the casino. A short man with a bald head and dark goatee awaited us. He and Keelan shook hands, and I saw a small yellow envelope pass between them. The bald man glanced at me, nodded once, and brushed past me to head out the door.

Keelan tucked the envelope under his armpit and retook my hand. “We’re already checked in. Let’s head on up.”

“What was that about?” I asked. When he didn’t answer immediately, I pressed my heels into the patterned carpet.

“Kee.”

Realizing I wouldn’t take silence as an answer anymore, he said, “More cash, fake passports and IDs, and the keys to the hotel room. My brothers want us to join them for a business meeting, and then we can go to The Bank tonight.”

My brows pinched together as I cocked my head to the right, studying him. “Is that all?”

He nodded.

“How long are we here for?” I asked.

Keelan reached up and tucked my long hair behind my ear. “Until we hear the police sirens outside.”

The Blake brothers didn’t book us the penthouse our families used to stay in during previous business trips, which was a clever move because that would be where the cops would start searching. This was a simple room on the second floor. It was easier to access the stairs and get the hell out of there if we needed to.

When we walked inside the room, a chill ran down my arms. Despite it being November, the hotel liked to keep their rooms at a frosty sixty-five degrees year round. My California blood hated being cold. Keelan set down the bags and closed the door, snapping the deadbolt in place.

Before I could reach for the suitcase with my sweater inside, Keelan wrapped his strong, tatted arms around my waist and pulled me in, bear-hugging me from behind. He had already pulled off his sweatshirt, so the heat of his skin pressed into me, causing a wake of goosebumps down my back and legs.

I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes, leaning my head against his chest. We had fucked an hour ago, but I wanted more. My God, I couldn’t get enough of his hands on me.

I needed more.

“Keelan,” I moaned, tilting my head back and parting my lips. He slipped his left index finger inside my mouth, his thumb holding my jaw into a hard grip. I sucked on his finger, tasting him with my swirling tongue, picturing his cock in my mouth. My breath grew heavy when Keelan’s other hand skated up my side and cupped my right breast.

“When are we meeting your brothers?” I asked, pulling my mouth away from his damp finger, my voice barely over a whisper.

“A little over an hour, but I have to call them in about fifteen minutes to discuss plans.”

“Fifteen minutes, huh?” I said, biting my bottom lip. “What can you do to me in fifteen minutes?”

He loosened his grip on my chin and turned me around, my body still flush with his. “Well,” he started. “I kind of want to punish you properly for running away from me. The pool was just a warm-up. ”

I felt the thick ridge of his cock twitch against my stomach as he pressed into me. Apparently, the notion of punishing me was turning him on. My breath hitched as I looked at him. Keelan was so tall I had to crane my neck to peer into those burning blue eyes.

The mere mention of punishment elicited a thrill in my belly, and he knew from my peaked nipples that his threat turned me on, too. His deliciously wicked smile lit up, and he slowly walked me back to where the bed was. My mind began to play out the fantasy I had been having about him for the last year. A twisted fantasy that I only allowed when the lights turned off and fear no longer dominated my mind.

It was just like the dark romance books I liked to read. I would picture Keelan coming for me, taking me hard and mercilessly against my will for being a bad girl and testifying against him. I would surrender to him, screaming for him to stop, when deep down, I didn’t want him to. When he touched me for the first time in the house, that dark part of me relished in the pleasure.

It was only fantasy, though. I knew Keelan would never hurt me like that, not after seeing the flashes of kindness and care in his eyes. Just like the books I read, if I wanted it to stop, I would shut the pages.

With Keelan, I had my safe word.

That one word gave me control, but right now, I wanted him to own and devour me. Taste and abuse my body until the marks of his soul burned into mine, branding me. The tattoo was only skin-deep. I wanted … no, I needed more.

I needed Keelan Blake to hurt me.

“Lay down, baby girl,” he ordered, nudging me down with his finger .

I climbed onto the mattress, lying back fully. When my head hit the bed, Keelan moved over me, caging me with his thighs. He removed his T-shirt, displaying the canvas of tattoos covering his perfectly toned body from his hips to right below his chin.

He was a fucking beautiful, dark god.

Keelan leaned down, kissing my bare shoulder gently. The press of his lips was tender—too afraid to break me. Frustration coiled in my spine.

Break me, goddammit.

“Why did you hit me with that pipe and run away from me, Sade?” he asked, his tone shifting to something else. There was another threat behind his voice—soft, slow, and deadly.

“What can I say?” I whispered. “I needed some fresh air.”

He laughed, the sound like dark honey to my senses. Keelan’s finger touched the center of my chest, where the moon phases were, then slowly glided down until it reached my exposed belly, resting on the constellation tattoo. He then moved his eyes from my shoulder to the tattoo before leaning forward, kissing it gingerly, and running his tongue over it, lower … lower.

Oh God, there was no way we’d be done in fifteen minutes.

As I watched him kiss my stomach, he paused, lifting his head and staring at me with hooded eyes. Something in his features changed, and my body stiffened. I knew that predatory look.

“You know,” he started, “before I left Gavin’s shop, I grabbed a couple of things.”

I swallowed, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Do you remember the safe word, Sadie?” he asked, and my stomach did an anxious flutter .

Keelan knew my fantasies of wanting to say “no” while he forced himself on me, taking me ruthlessly while I attempted to wrench away from his tight grip. So, we came up with a safe word when we were engaged and trying to heal our frustrations from being forced into a marriage we both didn’t want. The word made it clear to him that I truly wanted him to stop, no matter how many times I said “no” or “stop” before that.

“Butterfly,” I answered, and he smiled.

“Don’t move.”

Keelan swung his leg over me and dismounted from the bed. Frigid air replaced his warmth, and I shivered against the AC, which bit into my skin. I pushed up on my elbows and watched him walk to where our bags lay.

What is he doing?

Keelan kneeled to unzip his duffel back and started sifting through the clothes. He pulled out a large black pouch and a Ziplock bag with what looked like a few folded paper towels and walked back to me. He put the pouch on the bed and pulled it open. My eyes widened when I realized what it was.

I sat up so I could bolt, but he grabbed my hips and flipped me onto my stomach, his knees pressing me into the mattress. I thrashed and squirmed, but the weight of him was too much.

“Princess. Don’t fucking move,” he warned. There was something so deadly in those words that my nerves turned to ice.

I obeyed as the thrill of the unknown tingled in my core. Keelan placed two colors of ink on the blanket and started to prep and wrap the tattoo gun he kept in that bag, then slid the waistband of my leggings down slightly, exposing the top curves of my ass .

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice trembling. From excitement or anxiety, I couldn’t tell.

“Branding you, of course,” he replied calmly, as if he heard my thoughts before. “This will only take fifteen minutes. Stay still.”

While finishing wrapping the gun, he sprayed my skin with a small bottle of sanitizer and wiped it clean with a towel.

I felt myself already dripping between my legs with anticipation. His other hand, which wasn’t holding the gun, slowly glided down my ass, using his fingers to spread my cheeks apart. His middle finger trailed down the center, lower and lower, until he reached my pussy. Slowly, he slid it inside and began to pump his finger in and out while the needle touched the skin below my left hip.

I didn’t know how the fuck he was able to keep his hand so steady as he ruthlessly and mercilessly thrust his finger so hard that it hurt.

“Fuck, Keelan. It hurts. Please stop!”

“Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll make you bleed,” he warned.

He was already biting my skin with the tattoo gun. The needle hit my nerves, and I had to bite down on the pillow. I gripped the bedcover and tried to arch my hips into his fingers, but he used his elbow to press me back down. “Easy, Sade, or you’ll mess this up.”

Fuck. I wanted to move so badly, but I knew I had to stay still.

At some point, the pain blended with pleasure, coursing through my body like a raging storm. Small, muffled moans left my lips as I completely surrendered to the new sensation. It was an odd mix—a sharp sting of the tattoo gun on my skin and his fingers buried deep inside my pussy.

“Keelan …” I whimpered, feeling myself rise to that point of no return. Surely, I wouldn’t be able to maintain my composure .

Almost as if he could read my mind, he said, “Don’t move, or I’ll find another punishment that isn’t as fun.”

I wanted to tell him I couldn’t hold back, not anymore, but before I even had the chance to do so, my orgasm rippled through me. Hard and fast. All I could do was try to stay still as I trembled from the sweet release, moaning into the mattress.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, though his fingers continued to move along with the strokes of the tattoo gun. The dangerous combination threatened to tip me over the edge, but as I felt myself getting to that bliss again, he finally pulled the gun back. Though I was afraid, the eagerness to see what he had drawn elicited a thrill in my core.

Nothing he created was short of perfection. So, even though he said he was branding me, I knew I would love it, regardless.

“Done,” he said, pulling back fully. “But don’t get up yet.”

I obeyed, wondering what was next.

Keelan returned with another towel and wiped the tattoo clean. I winced a little right before he placed some ointment that he had retrieved from the bag over it. Then, he put a small strip of plastic wrap over the skin with thin layers of tape.

Just as I was about to get up to head to the mirror so I could see what he drew, I heard his shuffling as he removed his pants.

Looking over my shoulder, my gaze locked on his. The intense look in his eyes and the devious smile touching his beautiful lips sent a chill down my spine.

“Sadie …” he said, using his hand to press into my waist and shoving me back on the mattress. Another small whimper escaped my lips when my breasts pressed into the covers, and he positioned himself between my legs. “You never fucking listen, do you?” He used his hands to pry my legs apart. Arousal pooled between them, but I’d be damned if I let it show. He wasn’t going to take me without a fight. My fingers attempted to dig into his knees that were caging me in, determined to make him wince, even though he would overpower me every time.

In one quick motion, he grasped both my wrists, pinning them above my head, while his hand held me open as he rammed himself into me.

Pain shot through me with that first thrust, drawing out a loud cry.

“Stop!” I demanded, squirming beneath him as I desperately tried to withdraw my hips from his … even if that was, truthfully, the last thing I wanted. My entire body shuddered from the roughness of his touch. The dominance. The possession. This was what we did, what we knew. What we liked . “I said stop!”

I attempted to scream again, but he used one hand to hold both wrists while the other moved to cover my mouth, muffling my voice. “No one is going to save you, princess.”

A screech tore through my throat, but of course, he was right. No one would hear me now.

I wanted to do it again—shout at him, fight back, force him to take me rougher—but before I had the chance, his hand moved from my mouth and wrapped around my throat while he pressed his chest into my back. He was so heavy on me that I could barely breathe.

“I warned you, Sadie,” he murmured, now fucking me harder as I whimpered beneath him. Pleasure and pain and his tight grip on my throat consumed me. “Now you’ll get the privilege of breathing when I decide so. ”

His cock rammed in and out of me, hitting me deeper and deeper every time and stretching me out. The lack of oxygen made my mind swirl, even more so when I got to that point where my reflexes kicked in, demanding to breathe. I squirmed and kicked my heels against his thighs from beneath him, struggling to get air.

Right at that moment, pleasure hit me all at once. My orgasm spread through me so violently that I thought I might pass out, both from its intensity and the lack of oxygen. Keelan finally released my mouth, only to slam himself wildly into my pussy two more times before he came, too. Our moans echoed deep through the room until they dispersed into slow, heavy breaths.

After Keelan was spent, he collapsed over my back, adjusting his enormous frame to the right so he wasn’t resting on me anymore and pressing into my newly drawn tattoo.

“Alright, princess,” he said with a small, barely noticeable smile, running his thumb along my spine in a gentle caress. “Take a look, and then clean yourself up.”

I carefully eased off the bed, feeling his cum drip down my inner thigh. My pussy was aching from how hard he slammed into me, and my tattoo felt so swollen and tender that I took my time walking over to the mirror. I turned around to see what Keelan had done to me.

Oh, my God. My mind raced as I looked at the text he had tattooed on me.

“You are mine, Sadie Ryan,” Keelan said, still lying on the bed. “You belong to me. That will be your reminder for the rest of our lives. If you ever leave me or if Brian or any other man touches you again, they will see that. It will not only remind you of who you belong to, but you’ll think about how much you dripped for me while you got it. You can’t remove that mark without causing a scar. My name will be the only one on your lips, my taste on your tongue, my hands on your skin, and my cock in your pussy. No matter what, you will be marked.”

The lines were beautiful, sharp, and clean. Each cursive stroke ran horizontally, about three inches wide. The design was flawless and placed perfectly on the skin, like it was made for me.

Though beautiful, the black and pink text caused a feeling of shock and horror as I re-read the name he branded right above my left buttock: Keelan Blake.

As fucked up as it was that Keelan tattooed his name on me, there was a flutter of emotion that bounced in my chest, and wetness pooled between my legs all over again.

I was his.