Claiming My Sweet Captive

“Good girl.” I kissed the top of her head. “Come. I got you a present.”

I took her hand, and she followed me into our bedroom without question. The large windows were open, gauzy white curtains swaying in the warm breeze. Brilliant pink and orange painted the sky, giving us a picturesque view of the sunset over the water.

It was beautiful, but not nearly as breathtaking as the perfect woman by my side. She wore a silky black robe—one of the only items of clothing I allowed her. She preferred to be covered while she was in “work mode,” so I’d bought her some pretty lingerie. Otherwise, I kept her stripped, so I could admire her at my leisure.

Tonight, I did have something for her to wear. I released her hand and gestured to the large white box on our bed. It was wrapped in a pale blue ribbon, which I’d thought was appropriate for the occasion.

“Open it,” I ordered.

She hastened to comply, a delighted grin illuminating her delicate features. Samantha loved presents, and I relished showering her with gifts. I’d give her anything she desired, just to see her heart-stopping smile.

“What’s this?” she asked as she pulled the white dress from the box. It was long enough to cover her entire body down to her toes, and the high neck and long sleeves appeared demure. When she held it up in both hands, her eyes widened. The garment was crafted of delicate lace, without any lining beneath. It wouldn’t hide her from my covetous eyes.

“It’s your wedding dress,” I told her, my voice rough with something more than carnal hunger.

Her pale eyes lit up, but her jaw was slack when she turned to face me. “What?” she asked faintly.

I traced the curve of her cheek and rubbed my thumb over her parted lips. “We can’t make it official legally, but we’re going to have a ceremony.”

“Andrés, I…” She swallowed and trailed off.

I couldn’t read her reaction, so I issued a command. “You’re going to be my wife.”

She placed her hand over mine where it rested against her cheek, leaning into my touch. “Yes,” she answered, even though I hadn’t asked a question.

Samantha was mine, and I’d tie her to me in every way possible.

I brushed a kiss over her lips. “Good girl. Get dressed and meet me outside.”

I already wore my slacks and crisp white shirt. In the last two months, I’d become accustomed to more casual clothes—it was far too hot on the island to wear my customary suits. Besides, there was no one here I needed to intimidate by enhancing my aura of power. The only person I craved to control was Samantha, and she ceded to my power willingly, giving herself to me completely.

In a few short minutes, I’d possess her in a new way. I didn’t need a legal document to tell me that Samantha belonged to me, but I wanted to vow to her that I’d always keep and protect her.

I stepped onto our porch, which extended out to the edge of the beach. I’d lit torches and driven them into the sand, adding soft illumination in the waning light of the setting sun. Flowers were scattered along the wooden floorboards, waiting to cushion Samantha’s bare feet as she processed the short distance toward me.

There would be no witnesses to our union, but we didn’t need any. I wouldn’t allow anyone to look at Samantha in her pretty wedding dress. This moment was just for me. For us.

When she stepped into the open doorway, my breath stuck in my lungs. The white lace hugged her body, covering her completely while revealing everything to my hungry gaze. I could clearly see the curve of her breasts, her tight pink nipples peeking through the sheer fabric. Her pussy was a little more concealed, but the teasing glimpses of her pale flesh made my mouth water.

Her copper hair shined as it caught the light from the torches, reflecting their fiery glow. The pretty flush on her freckled cheeks reminded me of her innocence. Somehow, she’d managed to maintain it despite the perverted things I did to her body.

I held out my hand, beckoning. She closed the distance between us, moving gracefully as she glided toward me. Her glowing aquamarine eyes filled my world when she stood before me and took both my hands in hers.

“I love you, Andrés,” she murmured, going up onto her toes to press a sweet kiss against my scarred cheek. “This is perfect.”

“You’re perfect. Te amo, mí sirenita,” I swore.

A melodic giggle bubbled from her throat. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked, curious rather than teasing. “Is there a cake to cut or something?”

“What we’re going to do is say our vows,” I told her. “Then, I’m going to rip this dress off you and fuck you senseless, until you scream for mercy.”

She shivered, but her delighted smile didn’t falter. She didn’t fear me in the slightest. I still gave her pain with her pleasure, still demanded her tears when I needed to soothe the darkness inside me. But she wasn’t afraid of me. By some miracle, this perfect creature desired me, almost as desperately as I needed her.

“I guess I’ll go first,” she offered.

I nodded, giving her permission to continue. My heart squeezed, then beat faster in anticipation of her declaration of devotion.

She stared up at me, her eyes shining. “I need you, Andrés. I mean, I know we had a weird start and all, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I didn’t know what it meant to really be happy before you. I was always anxious and—let’s be honest—pretty awkward. I guess I’m still kind of awkward. But you make me better. I’m not anxious when I’m around you. I’m not scared. You make me feel safe. You make me feel loved and cherished. I love you, and I’m never going to leave you. I won’t let anything separate us. I’m yours.”