As usual, once he finishes, he stays inside me for a few moments, growing softer in my pussy until finally, he slips out. Then he sets me on my feet and gently eases any fluids that have escaped back into me.
“Let’s go to bed, Angel. There is a lot more I have to say about this gift.”
I blink, suddenly nervous, as I tug my dress straight. “Like what?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you feedback while my mouth is between your pretty thighs and my lips are on that sweet cunt of yours.”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just lifts me into his arms and carries me to our bed.
24
ADRIAN
Vincent, my third, isn’t Kai. The hard part is I shouldn’t be mad at him because he’s not Kai. It doesn’t keep me from throwing a little more effort into sparring with him in the gym before we start the day. He takes my latest hit with a grunt and then rebounds with a strike to my ribs that will hurt later. I appreciate him not pulling any punches because of who I am. It’s something I’ve always liked about him.
We square off again and go a few more circles. The mats around us groan and squeak as our bare feet move across the surface. Across the room is exercise equipment the others use more than I do. I usually find the release I need right here, punching things until they tell me to stop.
Vincent gets in a jab on my shoulder, and I know I’m distracted. “Let’s see you do that again, kid.”
He’s one of the younger men on the team and doesn’t appreciate me pointing it out. Instead of another strike, he sweeps his legs out but not fast enough. I dance away, careful to avoid another swipe if he’s got any fancy ideas.
We continue until my arms are so tired it takes effort to hold them up. A sharp chime on my phone ends things for the morning completely. I check the message and then glance at Vincent, who is opening his texts too. Kai sent them to both of us.
I strip the gloves off my hands and grab a towel and a water on my way out the door to the command room.
Kai is there, looking impeccable as always. I deliver a glare as my greeting, but Vincent claps him on the back and throws his long frame into the seat next to him. “What’s up?”
Kai grabs a couple of pieces of paper off the printer, handing one to each of us. I don’t bother hiding my impatience. “Don’t you have things to do that involve keeping my wife safe?”
Despite the set of his shoulders screaming out his anger, he doesn’t show any of it on his face. A skill I always admired in him. “This does involve keeping her safe. Will you just read it? Please?”
Vincent lets out a low whistle and tosses the sheet on the table, then looks at me, waiting. Well fuck. This can’t be good if he doesn’t just give me the summary version in passing. Who prints out emails these days?
I cross one arm under the other and scan the sheet, slowly taking in the words, even as something dark and dangerous builds inside me as each new word collides with the next. When I finish, I crumple the email in a ball and launch it across the room.
“What the fuck is that old man playing at? He thinks he can snap his fingers, and the council will grant his wish to get her back?”
I wave at the sheet. “That’s a load of shit, and he knows it. So what’s the point? The second I produce our marriage certificate, they can’t deny anything. She’s not going back, so why put in the effort?”
“A trap?” Kai supplies. “The council will want to see you both, in person, to make sure she is well and not being coerced. It’s a smart play at getting you both in one location at a specific time and place.”
“I don’t like it,” Vincent chimes in.
I roll my eyes and pace across the room, back and forth from the door to the wall. The council will deny his petition. It’s as simple as showing them the proof of what she looked like when we found her. There is video evidence, and the medical charts the doctor kept, then the marriage certificate. It’s not so hard to believe that I saved her life, and she fell in love. They can’t deny a love match any more than they do a marriage of alliance.
Doubts hit me, pummeling through the surety. I still haven’t taken care of Sal. What if she changes her mind about being with me and then tells the council something that will let them take her away?
I stalk to the table and pound my fists onto the cold glass. Not hard enough to break the surface, but enough to make my knuckles and wrists sting from pain. “There is nothing they can do to take her from me, and if the council requests my presence, then we’ll have to get creative on how to meet them, so no other interested attendees crash the party.”