Oath of Obedience (Deviant Doms 2)

I nod. I do understand. I understand very well. I’m not sure what those marks are, but it’s weirdly arousing thinking of going out in public while marked by my dark, big, dangerous, kinky…husband.

“I don’t trust that you won’t try to get away from me tonight.” He rests his hand on my thigh. “So after we’ve consummated our marriage, I’m going to bind you to the bed. And you’ll stay there until I give you permission to get up.”

I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m still panting, and I still like the feel of his hand just there, but what I really want is for him to touch me where I’m so desperate for release.

“You would keep me as you would a prisoner.”

“No. If you were my prisoner, I would take you to The Castle and lock you in the dungeon.” There’s not a trace of humor in his voice. He’s not joking.

“But what if something happens? What if there is a fire, or somebody breaks in, or you forget about me?”

“Elise,” he says in my ear. “Those things are impossible. We have half a dozen men stationed outside my door.” Oh my God. He really is one of America’s most wanted.

“And there’s one thing you need to know. You need to know this well.” He pinches the inside of my thigh so hard that I scream and arch. It hurts much more than I would’ve thought it could. “You’re my wife now. That means I put your safety above all others. I will punish you if you deserve it. I will dominate you because I like it. But I will never, never let you get hurt.”

Yeah, that’s not confusing at all.

I don’t know what I like and what I don’t anymore. I know that my head is swimming, that my hot husband, who smells really, really good, said scary things to make my heart beat faster. He’s over me, with his hand between my legs, and no man has ever touched me there before.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now.”

“We’ll see about that.”

And with that, he removes his hand. I long for the feel of his warm, left hand pressed on my thigh again. I might make a little whimpering sound.

“Are you needy, Elise?” I nod. I’m not a robot.

“I have a hearty appetite, and I want you to know that. I like food, and lots of it. I like sex, and lots of it. And I will have you wherever and whenever I want you. Do you understand me?” I nod mutely because what’s the response to something like that?

“Now we’ll see about your punishment for what you’ve done tonight. I think it’s important to start this relationship off on the right foot.”

“Oh, I think that ship has sailed,” I say before I can stop myself. His hand cracks down on my ass so hard and fast, I show I’m not prepared for the way it stings and burns in the way I yelp.

“You better watch that mouth.” I swallow hard.

Oh fuck off.

“If you wanted a meek little submissive wife, you probably should’ve shopped around a little bit before you took this one.”

That one, I thought about before I said it. I am ready to take whatever punishment he gives me, or so I think…

He kneels beside me, and I hear the sound of clinking metal. I look over my shoulder to see him unfastening his belt.

“You like telling me what I should do?” he says. I don’t respond, because I’m completely fixated on the leather between his hands, that thick belt, and the way he fists his buckle and makes a strap.

“I know what I need. Hold onto the rails to keep your hands out of the way,” he says and that’s all the warning I get.

I grab for the headboard in a panic, just before there’s a swish of leather, and his belt smacks my ass. I gasp in a breath and grip the headboard tighter.

He’s standing beside the bed, his hand on my lower back. “I want you to know why you’re being punished,” he says. “You tried to escape tonight. You know that’s not allowed. Your father sent you here, and you belong to me. Leaving would be like stealing from me. Do you understand me?”

I don’t wanna answer at first, because I know as soon as I do, he’s going to punish me again. But if I don’t, he might, too, so… I nod my head, and that’s both acquiescence and permission for him to strike me again.

The belt lands again, hard, but not as hard as I know he could strike me. I don’t know if I want to ever find out how hard he could.

Still, my skin is on fire, and my fingers are sweaty on the wooden rails, slipping.