Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“So we’re safe?”
He nods, though he looks a bit apprehensive. My guess is that we’re fine, but Viktor isn’t out of the woods.
“He’s at risk,” I whisper. “If they find out—”
“You let him worry about that.”
I close my mouth and just let myself obey. It feels nice. God, it feels so damn nice.
“And Missy? Who’s Missy?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I knew her years ago. We didn’t even date. She left me a note when I helped her out, and it must’ve been in my dresser.” His tone hardens. “Chandra, you have questions, you ask me. Do you understand? God, I should punish you just for doubting us.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, sir. I will. I promise.”
When he squeezes me, my heart throbs in tune with his. My head hurts and my body’s sore, but my heart is at peace. He never betrayed me.
“Good girl,” he says with the whisper of a kiss on my forehead. “Such a good girl. We’re going to leave this place, and we’re moving in together.”
He’s not asking, but I don’t care. I love when he commands things. I love when he’s the one in charge like this.
“Yes,” I whisper. It’s right. So damn right.
“When I know things are safe at the club, we can go back, but for now you’re with me. And when the weather warms up, we’ll get married in a little chapel in the city. Just a small ceremony.”
I smile. “Yes, sir. Let’s do that.”
My heart is filled to bursting. I was silly and foolish, but he doesn’t blame me like he could have. Because he loves me. I was meant to be his, and he belongs to me.
“I want to wake up every day with you by my side and tuck you in beside me when I go to bed at night. I want you to wear my ring and make vows that are right and good. The ones I was meant to make. To love, honor, and protect you. Because I love you.”
“And I love you,” I whisper. “God, I love you so much.”
This time, things are right. We were lost and broken, but now we’re saved. We’ll face sadness and happiness, wins and losses. But in the end, we’ll emerge from the ashes, stronger and more powerful, together as one. Sometimes we need to fall and get back up again and keep on going. Sometimes terrible, painful tragedy strikes, but we’re forged in that fire. And we keep on. Maybe we’re scathed and maybe we hurt, but in the end, we remain victorious.
Because in the end we love, and we are loved.
Epilogue
One year later
“Keep your hands where I put them, and do not move.”
“Yes, sir.”
I lean in and grip Chandra’s hair, tug her head back, and bring my mouth to her ear. “He’s got her well-trained, doesn’t he?”
We’re sitting on a loveseat in the dungeon, and Viktor’s got Marla trussed up and at the mercy of his crop. Her eyes glow, her cheeks flushed, and she’s the perfect image of a submissive in utter bliss at the hands of a dom she trusts.
“Oh, he tries,” Chandra says, squirming on my lap on purpose. “But he’s got a long way to go with that girl.” She knows when she wiggles her lap on my ass it makes me hard, which is exactly what she wants. I slap the side of her full thigh and pull her hair a little tighter.
“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect he doesn’t really want to train her fully anyway.”
“Too true.”
Zack won’t confirm or deny whether or not Viktor still works undercover for the Bratva, but I’ve noticed in the past year his face has thinned and his eyes are rimmed with dark circles. If the man’s still undercover, it’s eating him up. I hope he’s relieved of his job soon, and before the toll his job takes is irreparable.
Marla’s sharp cry interrupts our conversation when Viktor plies the crop harder, the swish and thud making my dick thicken. I want that crop in my hand. I want that ass on display to be Chandra’s.
I need to get her alone. My plans for her don’t involve anyone’s eyes but mine.
“Time for us to go,” I say to her. She met me here after work and may have been hoping to scene tonight. But what we have at our own place awaits.
One of my customers at the shop gave me a deal on a high-rise not ten minutes away from the bookstore and Verge, and we’ve been there now for a while. Chandra has an office in the library, books piled so high on every shelf she’s dwarfed by them, a comfy desk chair, and a couch to sit and type on if she feels like it, but many times, she sits on my lap at night and writes. I watch TV or read a book and she snuggles in and types away. She says being near me inspires her. I don’t know anything about writing, but I do know this: if anyone’s inspiring anyone, she’s the one doing the inspiring.