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“Don’t move,” he orders then disappears into the en-suite bathroom.

I hate that he’s still fully dressed while I’m on my bed fully naked. My eyes flutter closed, and I feel the weight of what happened, and the entire day drags me into a deep slumber. I barely feel Asher’s hands as he wipes my pussy and the insides of my thighs. The hot towel feels amazing as he presses it against me.

“Good night, Wife.” He bends down to kiss my forehead.

I let sleep take over, too tired to worry about the fact that Archer is leaving me again. Come morning, I’ll wake up all alone. The door closes shut, and I’m bathed in darkness. Not even the firelight is there to keep me company.

My head lulls to the side, and I’m dreaming again. I see his shadow standing by the foot of the bed and then my side. His zipper comes down, and his erection is free. I want to reach for it, but my arms are too heavy, pinned down to either side of me.

“My turn,” he whispers, teasing my lips with his shaft.

It’s wet and salty. I think I like it. A moan echoes in the darkness, then he’s shoving his cock inside my mouth. I can’t move, but I do my best to let him, to take all of him. He pumps and pushes in a little more, and then some more, until I can’t breathe.

He holds it there, fucking my mouth with measured thrusts. I can’t breathe, but my body feels too heavy to struggle. His cock also feels too good to let it go. I fantasize about stroking it with my hands and feeling the same sense of power and control I had when I stroked him in the gardens. I regret being such a coward then. I could’ve let him do this instead of fighting. I don’t want to run from him anymore.

“You take can a bit more, Little Dove. I know you can.” He braces a hand on the headboard.

I relax my jaw and take him to the hilt. And just when I think I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he pulls all the way out. My head sinks into the pillow as I gasp for precious air. But he’s not done with me. He positions himself again, teasing my mouth and even nose with his tip. I try to chase it, but then I remember he asked me not to move.

I let my mouth fall slack.

“Such a good girl.” His voice fills every nook and cranny in the room as well as my chest. He fondles my breasts, rolling my tight nipples and pulling them into peaks. When he’s had enough, he fills my mouth all over again. “Suck me dry, Little Dove.” It’s not an order. It’s more of a plea.

I want to give him that. I want to be the reason he comes undone. I have no idea what he needs from me, so I lick his tip and suck hard on it as if my life depends on it. My hand itches to hold him tight. But that’s not what he asked for. He said, don’t move.

“Jesus,” he growls and glides himself all the way in, until I feel him in the back of my throat.

His movements, along with his breaths, are ragged and no longer in control. He grips my hair at the nape of my neck and puts me where he wants me, basically doing all the work for me. I’m here. I want to say to him. I’m here for you. But I’m too tired to move.

He pumps with his hips and then lets out a cry. “Fuck.”

My throat is covered with something sticky. I swallow, savoring his semi-erection resting on my tongue.

“Did I do it right?” I ask when he pulls out.

“Of course you did, Little Dove. You’re always so fucking perfect.” He strokes my hair, then runs his fingers over my lips. “Such a pretty mouth.”

“Stay with me.” I smile and reach for him, but my hands catch nothing but air.

My eyes fly open, and I find myself alone. The fireplace crackles on the opposite end of the room like it does every night. And like every night, Archer isn’t here. I sit up and press a hand to my forehead. He’s gone. I swallow to taste him again, but that’s gone too.

The thumping of my heart chases my sleep away. For a moment I wonder if Archer even came to my room at all. I let my legs fall to the side of the bed and wince at the soreness between my thighs. My bottom screams in protest too. I pad to the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror to admire Archer’s handiwork. I have his hand neatly printed on each cheek.

A ribbon of lust unfolds at my core thinking of all the other ways I’m not yet his. I shake my head at the woman in the mirror and the way she smiles and blushes at the thought of Archer fucking me for real.

“You’re right,” I admit to my reflection. “I am his.”

I belong to Archer. And I don’t even care that he doesn’t think our marriage is real. It’s real to me. What I feel when I’m with him is one hundred percent real. He’s convinced he’s protecting me. But what is he really protecting me from? I’m done asking. It’s time I find out his secret. Whatever he’s hiding, I know we can work through it together.

Archer is mine, as much as I am his.

If he won’t fight for us, I will.

CHAPTER18

DO BLACK SWANS FLY?

Paloma