Chapter 34

34

Knox

She cries out, and the sound goes to my head. Or maybe that's the touch of my wife's curved arse under my palm. I fit my fingers into the perfect red print left by my hand on her butt cheek. "Fuck, you're so bloody sexy."

She gasps in reply, then clenches her arse cheeks, no doubt, bracing for the next blow. "Relax," I rub at the reddened skin, and she groans. The needy sound turns my cock into an instrument made of stone. My thigh muscles harden. I draw in a breath to calm myself. This was inevitable, being unable to hold back. My wanting to push her to the edge. My inflicting pain on her and enjoying every moment of it. But first, I need to make sure she's okay.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She instantly shakes her head, and the breath I wasn't aware I was holding rushes out. Thank fuck.

"I'm going to spank you for sassing me, and it's for your own good."

"How can it be for my own good?" She pouts at me over her shoulder. So fucking cute. I'm mesmerized by her lips, still swollen from my kiss. How her eyes widen as I raise my hand. "Face forward, baby; I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"But it's fine if you hurt me?"

"Only I have the right to hurt you; no one else, not even you. You're my property. My plaything."

She draws in a sharp breath.

"You're my fuck-toy. My whore. My slut."

She swallows.

"You're mine, baby—only mine—you feel me?"

Her entire body shudders, then she nods.

"Good, now face forward."

As soon as she does, I growl. "Count with me." I bring my palm down on her other arse cheek, then the first, then alternate between the two in rapid succession. She huffs but counts with me until I reach ten. I stop, then massage the tops of her thighs where the skin bears my mark.

She groans again. "Knox, please."

"Tell me how you feel, baby?"

"I—" She swallows. "I feel really aroused, if you want to know the truth."

"Good." I slip my fingers under her panties and brush up against her slit. She shudders. "Fuck baby, you're soaking." I scoop up some of the moisture and bring it to my mouth and suck on it. Sweet and tart with a taste of cherries. "Jesus, I could get used to your taste." I hear myself speak, and cold logic fills my head.

Continue along this path, and you'll want to make her your submissive. Keep touching her, and spanking her, and turning her on while you indulge your kinks, and you'll never be rid of her. But do I want to be? I understand this means becoming vulnerable to her. But not even that is enough to stop me from needing her. From wanting to bring her to climax over and over again. From wanting to worship every inch of her body and bury myself inside her. Maybe then, I'll find some solace from the scenes from my past haunting me? I pull her dress down her legs, then maneuver her body back into the seat.

She winces, and I allow myself a small smile.

"It's not funny; it hurts when I sit down."

"But it's a good hurt, right?"

She purses her lips, then reluctantly nods .

"It's turning you on even more, isn't it?"

She shoots me a look from under her heavy eyelids. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Doesn't mean you don't need it."

Her lips twitch. "You're a master at turning my words against me, aren't you?"

"I'm your master, baby. Period."

She blinks slowly. "Which makes me your…"

"Slave. Submissive. Sex doll. Fuck-toy. Person I'd give my life to take care of. My wife. Mine." I hear my words, and they sound over-the-top. Also, it's all true. Best to be honest now and see what her response is. The more I touch her, the more I want her, and I'm not going to be able to control myself much longer. Yet, I want her to be on board with what I have in mind. And given I haven't prepared her more, I'm going to have to do my best to catch her up on what I want from her. "Does that bother you?"

She doesn't reply, just looks at me with those big brown eyes of her that turn my heart to mush.

"July, does that bother you? My using those words with you?"

She shakes her head. "Why should it?"

"It doesn't strike me that you've had much sexual experience."

Her cheeks heat. "If you mean, have I been in a kinky relationship before, then the answer is no."

"But you're a virgin, aren't you?"

She seems taken aback by my question, then tips up her chin. "Does it matter?"

I stare. No fucking way. I didn't really believe it when I said that. "You're a virgin?" I cough.

"No big deal." The color on her cheeks deepens, but she doesn't glance away. "Besides, I've played enough sports growing up that I'm sure I don't have a hymen or anything."

"But you've never slept with anyone else before?"

She throws up her hands. "What's the problem? I don't understand."

And neither do I. I didn't think I cared about a woman being a virgin. It never mattered to me with any other woman I've been with. But she isn't any other woman. "You're my wife. Of course, it matters. "

"Because now you get untouched goods?" she sneers. "You realize how misogynistic that is?"

I consider her words. "I understand why you think so, but I wouldn't call it misogynistic…"

"No? Then what would you call it?"

"Proprietary? Possessive? Protective?" I shake my head. "Actually, I'm not sure there's a word for it. There's something primal about it. I guess, I feel like this is a privilege, like it's something you treasured enough to save it, and since you're offering it to me, I shouldn't squander it or pretend it doesn't turn me on."

Her jaw drops. "Do you mean to say, if I'd had one single disappointing experience before this, you wouldn't consider fucking me?"

"Not at all. It wouldn't have stopped me if you weren't a virgin." I allow my lips to quirk. "And not only because when I fuck you, you'll forget any other man who may have come before me. But the discussion is moot because I'm your first." I peer into her features. "Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

She must hear the intensity in my voice for she swallows, then shakes her head slowly. "How does it make you feel?"

I reach for her hand, then twine my fingers through hers, before I lean in. It makes me feel like I'm special, like I'm not the monster—the beast—I've made myself out to be. "It makes me want to hide you away so you're unsullied by the universe."

She draws in a sharp breath.

"It makes me want to make love to you and give you so much pleasure, you'll never regret marrying me."

Her pupils dilate.

"It makes me want to push you down on your knees and fuck your mouth and feel my dick down your throat. It makes me want to"—I scan her features—"be the first to take you in every virgin orifice. It turns me into a possessive, over-protective, controlling, jealous monster who wants to tie you to our marital bed and never let you leave."

Also, I'm using your virginity as an excuse because I changed my mind about fucking you. The truth is, I'm dangerously close to falling for you, and that makes me want to make love to you. But I can never admit that to you .

She swallows. "I thought you said you wouldn't fuck me," she murmurs.

"Fuck that," I growl. "Nothing matters more than making love to my wife, not when I am the first to do so." Not when I'm falling for her.

No one else has had her before me, and that's such a fucking turn on. It's as if she's been waiting for me all this time, as if I'm worthy of her. It makes me feel so fucking hungry for her. It makes me want to own her in a way I haven't wanted anything else before. It makes me realize I should have never told her that I wouldn't fuck her. It makes it clear; I'm not abiding by that promise to myself either.

"Oh." She parts her sweet mouth in an 'O' that has me wishing I could turn my words into reality.

That's when the pilot announces we've commenced our descent into Paris.