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Despite that, I still crave her. I still want Shelaine in my life, even if it’s for a brief time. When she’s near me, it’s as if the hurt never happened. I can look past the abuses heaped upon me and dream of the future. It’s a fucked-up future, but at least I’m no longer alone in it. Until I’m forced to give her up, I will possess her, selfish as that may be.

“No one’s hurt me,” she continues, her melodic voice cutting through the sorrow flooding my mind. “No one’s ever touched me there before, and I don’t want my first time like this. Please. Please don’t do this to me.”

Shock freezes my system. My hand burns where it rests on her fevered skin. There’s no way I heard that correctly. There’s no way this beautiful specimen of a woman is an anal virgin. Now more than ever, I want to make this good for her, to make it right. I never want her to associate pain or unease when it comes to anal because I’ll be taking her ass so many times in the future.

I pull back, conceding this one to her. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll leave it alone. For now, but soon, this back hole of yours will be stretched out around my cock, and you’re going to be grateful when my fingers help stretch you out beforehand. I’ll just enjoy your pussy for now.”

Again, she shudders, and my heart stops. “Shelaine Gallagher. I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer truthfully. If you lie to me, I’m taking back my promise and fucking your ass right here in front of Dean Anderson. Nowhere in your limits do you list anal, and as such, it’s free game. Are you a virgin?”

My heart clenches as I wait for her answer. Truthfully, I always considered virginity to be a construct of control and one that’s not easily verified. How many times have I heard that you can lose your virginity just by falling off a bike?

I never required any partner of mine to be a virgin. In fact, I preferred that they weren’t. I didn’t want the pressure of living up to someone’s fantasy or dreams. If they weren’t a virgin, then there was a good chance they’d already had a shitty fuck, making what I do seem like perfection.

But Shelaine is different. She’s someone I can see at least a tentative future with. For the first time in my life, I’m allowed to want something. Whether she’s a virgin or not doesn’t change my feelings toward her. However, if she is, in fact, a virgin, then it means I can be her first. Owning her, claiming her, molding her to my brand of desire. I can possess her in a way that no man ever has, and no man ever will.

After what seems like an eternity, she turns to look over her shoulder, her eyes wet with unshed tears. They slam into my heart like a knife cutting through me. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman in distress and felt anything other than contempt or arousal.

And that’s when it hits me. I never cared what the other girls thought about me or what I did, but I certainly give a damn about what Shelaine thinks. It’s a novel feeling, actually caring about another person. The sensation squirms about in my chest like a wriggling grub, and I hate it. It makes me feel soft, vulnerable.

When she nods her head, however, everything in me tightens up. This is a game-changer. I already knew I was going to claim and possess Shelaine, but now that I know she’s a virgin, I’ll die before giving her up. I’m not like a lot of the Ravens who pride virginity over everything else; this is different for me.

It’s more the fact that she’s a clean slate for me to start things over. She’s coming into our union with no expectations, no preconceived notions, at least not when it comes to sex. True, I’ll probably have to study up to be like the other Dominants here, but I’ll be her first sexual everything, and that’s at least something I know I excel at.

Pulling back, I move her panties back to the side and lower her skirt. No one else will be allowed to look at her, not without my permission. Every bit of her body is now mine to devour.

“Dean Anderson, I hereby claim Shelaine Gallagher as my submissive.”

The woman in question freezes underneath me, her fingers clenching as she waits for his response. But instead of answering me, he instead hunches down and talks to Shelaine.

“Do you want this as well?”

Does she even have a fucking choice? That’s not how this works. I make the claim, and she’s mine. My fingers clench as I stand there, impotent, like an idiot as I wait for her decision. All this does is show me how little power I actually have.

It’s laughable that I thought she’d be forced to submit to me and stay with me because of her role, but I see now that it isn’t the case. These submissives still have far more power and can wield it when they choose to. The only way I’m going to keep her by my side for good is to marry her.

I never imagined myself being married, but with Shelaine, it seems like the thing to do. I’m never letting her go, and she’s never leaving me. Marriage is the best course of action because now I'll have even more power in the relationship. Once we’re married, it’s a binding contract. She can’t just walk. Not without getting lawyers involved.

If it comes down to it, I’ll act like I’m reconciling with Louis so I can get access to his money. With enough cash, I can grease some palms and get lawyers that will see things my way. Hell, with enough money, I can take her to a remote island and strap her down, fucking her until she sees reason once more.

The very idea that she can slip between my fingers again is extremely uncomfortable. I don’t like being vulnerable in this way, as if any amount of control I have is scattering through the wind like dead leaves.

“I do, Dean Anderson.”

Her words send a surge of arousal through my body, and it takes all my willpower not to just unzip my pants and rip away her virginity right here and now. But I won’t. It will be so much more poignant to rid of her affliction when I claim her.

“Done. We’ll set it up to happen in about a week. I don’t want to rush this. You’re still new to The Society, Luke, and I want to make sure you have a chance to sample the other submissives we have.” Her body bristles as he speaks.

Does this mean that she actually cares if I fuck another woman? My heart gives a soft squeeze as I contemplate what her reactions mean. Could we actually make a go of this? It all feels too easy, too fragile to even hope about.

Dean Anderson continues, cutting off my line of thinking. “Either of you can break the agreement at any time, but we only like to do so in extreme circumstances.”

And there it is. The monkey wrench in our happily ever after. Just as I thought. Shelaine has an out. I need to cut off all her exits and fast. The only way she’s leaving me is through death, and the sooner she realizes it, the better it will be for her.

A week feels like an eternity, and though I understand what he’s trying to do, it’s unnecessary. I want Shelaine. I will have Shelaine. It doesn’t matter if he makes me wait a week, a month, or a year. No other submissive will catch my eye. Once I’ve set my sights on something, I never rest until I get what I want.

“If you insist on a week,” I reply. “Then I have to accept that. But just know that I will not be changing my mind. Perhaps it will give Shelaine a moment to think and decide if she truly wants me, but I’ve already made my decision.”

I give him the words he wants to hear. I give the dean the plausible deniability he needs. But in no way will I allow her to choose anyone other than me. She may decide that I’m too broken, too rough for her, but in the end, I’ll make her see things my way. I’ve endured far too much to not give myself the one thing I truly want.

Giving him a nod, I walk out, not wanting her to see the uncertainty in my eyes. I never want her to see me as weak. None of the Dominants here act that way, and neither will I. I will be a show of force, an indomitable wall. I will hide the gaping wounds in my soul and only show her the strength of my resolve.


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