36. Chapter Thirty-Six Abby

Chapter Thirty-Six: Abby

I stood before the full-length mirror in Nathan's bedroom, a sanctuary of dark woods and muted tones that belied the chaos of our lives. My reflection showed a woman transformed: hair swept into an elegant updo, secured by a comb of silver and pearl—a stark contrast to the life I had known. A bold red lip painted my mouth, an armor of sensuality for the night ahead, while smoky eyes promised secrets and whispered of danger.

This was…weird. I was used to going undercover, but this felt like I was getting ready to go to a Halloween party–not my Triad initiation.

The green velvet dress clung to my curves, its color a deep forest hue that could hide bloodstains as easily as it could command attention. The high neck added a touch of class, but the slit up my thigh was a brazen hint at the power of femininity I was only just beginning to wield. I told myself that tonight, this was who I was.

Tonight, I wasn't just Abby Harper; I was a siren about to sing her way into the heart of the Triad.

But there was discord in this carefully curated image. My fingers danced over the array of jewelry laid out on the dresser, each piece a symphony of silver, pearl, diamond, and emerald—except one. The gold necklace Nathan had clasped around my neck weeks ago glared against the rest of my attire, a stubborn reminder of something that he had yet to let me remove.

I didn't want to ask him to remove it, either. He'd already done so much for me. I didn't want him to be insulted by the suggestion of it.

Every other adornment fell effortlessly into place, reflecting the cool, metallic sheen I'd aimed for, but not that necklace. It was a gilded shackle, a reminder of Nathan's claim over me, yet part of me treasured it more than any other jewel. The idea of asking him to unlock it, to remove even this small symbol of his possession, twisted my insides. So, I let it lie against my skin, a hidden mismatch in a night that demanded perfection.

"Abby, chill," I chided myself softly. "This is bigger than some damn necklace." But as much as I tried to steel myself for the initiation, the weight of the gold felt heavier than ever—a tangible representation of the web of loyalty and deception that ensnared me. Nathan's world was one of unspoken rules and veiled truths, and I was about to promise myself to it, come hell or high water.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and I caught a glimpse of Nathan in the mirror. He emerged like a tempest's eye—calm but deadly. His black suit was tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and the lean lines of his muscular frame. The emerald green tie he chose was the only hint of color against the starkness of his attire, a silent nod to the power he wielded as the Serpent's Fang.

His hair, black as a raven's wing, was slicked back with precision, not a strand out of place. A neatly trimmed beard contoured his jawline, enhancing the sharp angles of his face. Brown eyes, usually shrouded in mystery, held a flicker of something softer when they met my reflection.

"Looking sharp," I murmured, unable to stop a small smile from playing on my lips despite the nerves gnawing at me.

Nathan's response was a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but it warmed me more than any full-fledged grin could. He closed the distance between us in a few smooth strides, and I watched in the mirror as he came to stand behind me, his hands finding their way to my hips with an ease born of familiarity.

"Ready?" His voice was low, a rumble that vibrated through his chest and into my back where his body lined up with mine.

"Almost," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Nathan's presence was disarming, and I found myself leaning back ever so slightly, seeking the reassurance of his solid form against me.

"Good," he said, his thumbs tracing small circles over the fabric of my dress. "Because tonight, you'll be the one everyone is watching. And Abby, you look beautiful."

I couldn't help but notice the hint of dissatisfaction in his tone.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Your look—it's not quite complete." His fingers trailed up my sides and converged at my throat, gentle yet unyielding. The cool metal of the necklace chilled my skin for a moment before his deft touch released the clasp.

The weight of the collar that had been a constant around my neck vanished, and I instinctively reached up, feeling the sudden absence. My eyes were locked on the mirror, watching Nathan's reflection as he let the previous symbol of possession—a stark, silver chain—slip through his fingers to the floor with a soft thud.

"Wait—" I began, but my question evaporated as he retrieved something new from his pocket.

In his hands now was a necklace of white gold, its chain delicate and leading down to a pendant that caught the light with an almost mischievous glint. The diamond at its center was ensnared by emerald scales, a snake in mid-coil. It was mesmerizing, dangerous, and undeniably beautiful.

With reverent care, Nathan draped the necklace around my neck, securing it with a click softer than a whisper. No lock followed. The realization sent a wave of relief mixed with an unexpected surge of power through me. I was not tethered; I could feel the potential thrumming beneath my skin, a freedom I hadn't anticipated.

"Better," he murmured, approval lacing his voice as he admired his handiwork reflected back at us. "Now you're truly breathtaking."

I watched us both in the mirror, his dark eyes meeting mine in the glass. There was no lock, no claim of ownership—just a gift, a sign of trust. Or perhaps a challenge. Whatever it was, it sent a jolt straight to my pussy.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, the weight of the delicate chain around my neck a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nathan's eyes didn't waver as he met my gaze in the mirror. "Yes," he said, and his confidence was like a physical force. "I wanted a necklace to match your ring if I'm going to show you off." His voice held a shadow of possessiveness that sent a thrill through me.

His lips, already so close to my skin, ghosted over my neck…then his tongue flicked out, grazing my pulse. The kiss was a brand, igniting a fire that coiled deep in my belly. I melted back into him, feeling the tense lines of his muscled body behind mine. He might have gotten rid of my collar, but with this kiss, he was making sure I belonged to him.

And I loved it.

He pulled away from me and I immediately moaned, protesting the absence of his touch on me. "Nathan…"

"You're supposed to be preparing yourself for the task at hand, not getting distracted," he said, a smile on his face.

"Well, maybe you should stop distracting me then," I chided. "Remind me again–what should I expect tonight?"

"Expect?" Nathan's voice was low, a rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air between us. As he spoke, his hand traced upward along my side, the warmth of his touch searing through the thin fabric of my dress. His fingers found the curve of my breast, cupping it over the delicate lace of my bra, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"At the initiation," I managed to say, leaning back into him as his thumb brushed over my nipple, sending sparks of desire straight to my core. His other hand slipped beneath the slit of my dress, gliding up my thigh until he found the heat of me, just a whisper away from where I ached for him. "And…and after."

His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, his breath hot. "You don't need to worry about that part, Abby. They don't make the women kill." The words were almost gentle, but there was a steel edge to them, a reminder of the world we were entangled in—a world where vows meant more than life itself. "It's about the vows. A marriage to the Triad, above all else."

I shivered at the notion, the solemnity of what lay ahead momentarily grounding me. But then his fingers moved again, insistent against the lace barrier, finding a rhythm that made thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. He started rubbing my pussy over the fabric of my panties, and a moan spilled from my lips unbidden, raw and needy.

"You're so wet," he said. "You smell so fucking good."

I threw my head back, swallowing another moan.

"Good girl," he murmured, a note of dark approval in his tone as he continued ghosting his fingertips over my clit. "Always ready to be fucked."

"Can I make the vows to you instead?" I asked, my words rough with the storm of emotions he stirred within me. "To you, Nathan, not them."

"We'll both know that's what you mean," Nathan replied without hesitation, his voice a low growl that vibrated against my skin, his fingers suddenly more insistent. "You're all mine, Abby. And you better believe you're going to remember that every damn second tonight."

His movements shifted from teasing to demanding, his fingertips finding the edge of my panties. "You're soaked," he said, nibbling on the shell of my ear. "Slut."

Before I could answer him, his fingers pressed into me with a possessiveness that left no room for doubt. His other hand abandoned my breast and fumbled at his slacks. The sound of a zipper echoed through the room, an audacious declaration of what was to come.

I barely had a moment to catch my breath before he yanked my dress up over my hips, baring me to him in a way that felt both vulnerable and empowering. He didn't have to ask twice—I bent over, bracing myself on the cool sides of the mirror, my green eyes locked on his reflection. There was a hunger there, in those depths of brown, that made everything else fall away.

"Remember, this is where you belong—with me, not them," Nathan said, his tone edged with a dark promise as he lined himself up behind me. His hands gripped my hips with an intensity that spoke of possession, of a claim that went deeper than the skin. He spanked me hard, and I yelped, the sting blooming into a pleasurable ache that made my breath hitch. A second smack chased the first, and my body jolted against the cool mirror, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. "You'll be wearing my handprint all night."

His fingers were quick to ease the sting he'd inflicted, tracing the contours of my body with a touch that was almost reverent. His lips pressed against the base of my neck, teeth nipping at the tender skin before his tongue soothed away any pain.

He slid my panties aside, the lace offering no barrier to his rough touch. He pressed his cock into me hard, burying himself to the hilt as he bent me further over the mirror. The initial burst of pain faded quickly, replaced by a rush of pleasure that made my knees buckle. His strong arm circled around me, holding me up as he began to move in a rhythm that left me gasping.

His fingers dug into my flesh, anchoring me to him as he drove himself deeper, marking me as his own. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through me, a tempest that threatened to sweep me under. I cried out, my voice echoing around the room as I surrendered to the onslaught.

"I'm going to come inside you," he said, fucking me hard. "I'm going to mark your pretty pussy with my seed, because you belong to me."

"Yes," I panted, the word taking form at his command. It was a pledge born from the inexorable rhythm of our joined bodies, a promise wrapped up in the squall of desire now raging within me. "Yours, Nathan."

"That's right," he growled. His grip on my hips tightened to the point of pain, grounding me against the storm. "Say it again."

"Yours…" The word was a cry torn from my lips by the relentless push and pull of his body against mine.

"Good girl," he praised, fingers digging into my flesh as I took all of him. His thrusts were relentless, driving me to the precipice of pleasure. "I'm going to fill you up, Abby. You're going to remember this night every time you feel me drip out of you."

My body clenched around him at his words. The thought of carrying a part of him deep inside me, a reminder of our stolen moment was intoxicating. I wanted it, craved it even in the whirlwind of pleasure that had me spiraling.

His rhythm faltered for just a moment before he groaned, his hips pressing against me as he unloaded himself deep inside me with a final thrust. My body convulsed around him as my climax hit me with a violent intensity that left me breathless and trembling.

"That's it," he murmured into my ear. His hands were gentler now, stroking my hips as they guided us both through the aftershocks. "Fuck, your pussy is so tight. When you go up there tonight, my cum is going to be running out of you. Because you belong to me. All of you. Every part of you, every pretty little hole."

I was coming down from the high, my body still shivering with aftershocks when I felt him pull out. The sudden emptiness was almost jolting, but then there was a warm trickle down my thighs, a stark reminder of what had just transpired between us.

Before I could catch my breath, he was touching me again, his fingers replacing where he'd been moments before. A gasp escaped me, and I clung to the edge of the dresser for support as he found that sweet spot inside, pressing firmly. "Going to put all my cum back inside of you," he growled in my ear. "Get you nice and ready for tonight."

"And then what?" I asked, my voice trembling as much as my body.

His response was immediate, his free hand reaching around to stroke my clit in a steady rhythm that had me biting my lip to stay quiet. "Then you're going to walk up there in front of all them, knowing you're dripping with my seed."

His words sent a thrill down my spine, an illicit affirmation of ownership that resonated deep within me. His fingers continued their punishing rhythm–left hand pushing his cum back inside me, right playing with my clit–relentless in their quest to wring one more climax from me, and I could do nothing but surrender.

"Now that's the perfect accessory for tonight," he said. "My drying cum on your pretty legs—still wet and glistening. Can you feel it, Abby? Can you feel me inside you?"

"Yes, Nathan," I gasped, my voice ragged and hoarse. "I can feel you…everywhere."

My pussy clenched around his fingers, an unexpected wave of pleasure rolling through me as another orgasm shuddered its way through my body.

His fingers stilled momentarily, his breath hitching in his throat before he plunged them back inside with a finality that buckled my knees. I cried out, the sound reverberating off the mirror as I teetered on the precipice of pleasure.

"Let go, Abby," he murmured against my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe in a sharp bite of reality grounding me amidst the whirlwind of desire. "Let me feel you come undone."

And with one final thrust of his fingers and a swift flick to my clit, I did. I surrendered to the storm raging within me like untamed lightning crashing against the midnight sky. My body shivered and shook, convulsing under the force of waves of pleasure. I cried out, my voice filling the room and echoing back to me as if in approval.

"Good girl," he praised, his own voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. His fingers stilled inside me, letting me ride out the last tremors of my climax. As the waves of pleasure subsided, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close against his chest. The steady beat of his heart pounded against my ear, a soothing rhythm that was a stark contrast to the stormy sea of pleasure we'd just weathered together.

"Damn," I panted, feeling heat flood my cheeks while my legs trembled with the intensity of it all.

Nathan said nothing, but his eyes glinted with satisfaction. He withdrew his hand and with a swift, practiced motion, tucked himself back into his pants, zipping them up as if we hadn't just indulged in our carnal desires. He was composed, the very image of the untouchable Triad prince, as if he hadn't just unraveled me completely in the span of minutes.

I straightened up, my hands fumbling with the fabric of my dress to right it over my body. It was surreal how normal we both looked–except I was sweatier than I would have liked.

Nathan's hands were on me before I could catch my breath, spinning me around with a purpose. His kiss landed hard on my lips, stealing the last bit of air from my lungs, possessing me with an urgency that left no room for doubt about his intentions. I melted into him for a moment, the chaos of our desire settling into something like peace.

"Let me look at you," he murmured against my mouth, breaking away just enough to inspect his handiwork. His fingers, calloused yet precise, tilted my chin up, eyes scanning my face for any evidence of our indiscretion before he dragged his thumb under my lower lip–to tidy up my lipstick, I thought.

Satisfied, a half-smile played on his lips as he nodded. "Perfect. You look stunning. And you smell really fucking good, too."

"Jesus," I said, still coming down from my orgasm.

"Come on. We have to go. It's time for you to make your vows."