Page 22

Zoriah

“Thank you,” Roman says kindly when we get out of the cab.

“I have a question, and I don’t want to sound like a gold digger or some shit,” I say.

“What’s that?” He laughs and takes my hand.

“You are a multibillionaire, and you fly with a commercial airline to a city you frequent throughout the year while driving a rental car,” I say.

“Why not buy the things you need to travel and stay comfortable? Flying privately would offer way more security, and you wouldn’t be bound to commercial flight times.

Having a house or apartment here would give you some place familiar and alone.

A car, or at least a familiar driver, would make things much easier.

You can’t say being cheap is how you became a billionaire because I help you with all the finances, including personal. ”

“You’re right,” he smiles. “Would you like to see our new home?” he asks.

“I don’t like the word, we, Roman. You better not have put my name on something,” I say.

“Or what?” he asks me with a grin. “Half of this trip is to see the house and bring the jet back to New York. I’m not sure if the car is at the house but I didn’t want to put you in a taxi or ride-share vehicle, so I got a rental.”

“Why did you say ‘we’?”

“Because your name is on it,” he says simply.

“Roman Tolson. You take my name off that shit,” I scold. He suddenly stops and pulls me off to the side and grabs my face with a smile on his face.

“Zoriah Caroline Kingston, I’m going to marry you,” he says simply.

“Unless you have an objection, you are going back to New York as Zoriah Caroline Tolson. Your dad and brother know and approve. They decided you would drop Kingston so you can keep your mother’s middle name.

Ben is aware and supportive, and Corbin said that Huxley would be as well.

Being married to me means you get half of everything.

If we separate, you get half of everything.

I am making that decision. Not you. You are not after me for my money, and I am very well aware of that. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” I say quietly.

“And that’s another thing. Do not say “yes, sir” to me out of a sense of obligation.

If you disagree with something… anything…

you open your mouth and say it. I am not asking for blind obedience, nor do I want you to feel as though you no longer have a say in your life, because you absolutely do. Okay?”

“Okay,” I smile. I love that he is giving me structure but not suffocating me. I knew he wouldn’t, but he is a natural.

“Let’s go,” he says before kissing me.

“We are already married now, aren’t we?” I ask as we walk.

“Just need your signature,” he says as we continue our walk.

“I want to sign,” I say. “When?”

“I have the papers. You can sign in the car,” he says. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I want you for the rest of my life? Absolutely,” I say. “Are you concerned about how this came about?”

“No. Are you?” he asks.

“No,” I smile. “Can I call Ben my husband and make him cry? I feel like he would cry.”

“He would definitely cry, and that’s up to you,” he laughs.

We get to the rental and load our bags before we set off. Roman holds my hand as we drive, and I feel free. “You are going to corner me, aren’t you?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” he asks innocently.

“Fucking me,” I say. “You’re going to corner me.”

“This will be your first fully consensual interaction, Zoriah. Is that how you want it to be?” he asks honestly.

“Yes,” I say. “I’ve been through far too much to be looking for sweet and romantic. Although, I do want romance occasionally. Just not this time.”

“Okay, then I’ll corner you,” he says simply.

“When?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replies with a grin. I smile and shake my head at him, and we continue our drive. I perk up when we get to a gate at the end of a long driveway. As we go through, a gorgeous house comes into view. It’s not too big, but it’s still magnificent.

“It’s beautiful,” I say happily.

“I’m glad you like it,” he smiles. When we park beside another sedan, he gets out and comes around to my door. “Would you like to sign now or later?”

“Now!” I say giddily.

“Okay,” he laughs and pulls a file folder out of his bag. I open it when he hands it to me, and I can’t help but grin. I flip through it and notice there’s no prenuptial agreement or anything. “What?”

“No prenup,” I say.

“Half means half,” he says. “I have no intention of divorcing you. Do you plan on divorce?”

“No,” I frown at him.

“Then, it’s not needed,” he says. I nod and sign the pages he has marked. “Let’s go inside, Mrs. Tolson.”

He pulls me out of the car and kisses me hard before grabbing the backs of my thighs and picking me up.

I wrap my legs around him as he carries me into the house.

He takes me upstairs and drops our bags first before tossing me on the bed.

I giggle when he reaches his hands up my dress and yanks my panties off.

“So much for cornering me,” I say as he moves between my legs and pulls my arms above my head.

“Shhh,” he says. “When I take this sweet little cunt for the first time, it will be when I can make you the most helpless. You want things hard and unforgiving; I’ll give you just that.”

“Oh no. I’m so helpless. Please don’t fuck me,” I say as I wiggle under him. He releases my hands and grabs me by the throat, stunning me for a second when he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Get all your giggles out now, mi amor. When I fuck you, all I want to hear are your pleas for mercy,” he growls.

“We’ll see about that,” I say sweetly, kissing his cheek.

“Let’s go eat before I decide to have my dessert first,” he grunts and pulls us up from the bed.

“The Chicken Caesar Salad, please,” I say kindly.

“Yes, ma’am. I will have that out soon,” she smiles as she walks away with our menus.

“I like this place,” I say. “It’s cute.”

“Interesting,” he smirks.

“Why is that interesting?” I ask.

“Because this place is pretty cheap. For being married to a billionaire, you have a very affordable taste,” he says.

“Everything is affordable to you, Rome,” I laugh. “Also, twenty-five dollars for a salad is not cheap. Not when I can go to Walmart and get the same one from the deli for five bucks.”

“I have a task for you,” he says.

“What’s that?” I ask. Roman gets his wallet out. “No. Absolutely not. Stop it.”

“I’m not asking, mi amor,” he says, handing me a black Amex credit card.

I’ve used it before, and it’s nice to hold.

It’s metal and heavy in your hand, reminding you just how much money can be spent on it.

He’s tried to get me to hold onto it before, so I wasn’t always having to ask for it, but I’ve always refused.

“No,” I say firmly. “That is not my card. It does not have my name on it.”

“Take the card, Zoriah,” he says firmly.

“No, Roman. I don’t want to use your money,” I say softer. “I didn’t earn it.”

“You don’t have to earn it, mi amor. Either you take it and use it when you need to, or I buy you expensive and lavish gifts until you give up and take the card.

It has your name on it because you’ve been a user for a year.

It has been in my wallet since the day I got it because you have refused to take it. You’ve always had full access.”

“I feel like it’s wrong to use your money,” I say.

“Our money now, Zoriah,” he says. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t trust you.”

“Fine,” I sigh. I take the card and tuck it away in my purse.

“I want you to buy something nice for yourself. Anything you want, but make it expensive and lavish to your taste. Okay? Spoil yourself,” he says.

“I’ll try,” I say. “Buying name-brand fruit snacks is what I consider spoiling myself so…”

“Well, at least buy the big box,” he winks.

We eat and talk about where we are at with searching for the cult.

We plan to visit the place I escaped from now that the police have released the scene.

They haven’t found anything so far, so I am just going to assume the cult has a hold on the local police.

We are on our own, and not even money has been able to help so far. I just want Huxley back.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” I say when the server walks away with the receipt. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I can see the door from here.”

“Okay,” I say happily. I stand, and he wraps his arms around my waist to pull me close before I can walk away.

“I love you, Riah,” he says, kissing me.

“I love you too, Roman,” I reply sweetly. He pats my ass before letting me go.

I go to the bathroom and take care of business.

I don’t want to spend too much time in here, so I hurry up and wash my hands.

I can’t see the door from here, but I hear it open.

I focus on finishing up, and as soon as I see a figure behind me, a hand suddenly covers my mouth, and I am pushed across the sink.

I scream against the hand, but it’s the gentle kiss on my shoulder that makes me calm down.

“You should be paying attention, mi amor,” he says as he forces my legs apart and pushes my face down into the sink where the water is still running. He pulls the knob that plugs the sink, and I instantly start to panic. He holds on tightly to my hip as he grabs a handful of my hair.

“Roman! Wait. Hold on. Roman, please,” I plead as I try to push myself away from the water.

“Better hold your breath, mi amor,” he says before shoving my face down into the water.

I thrash and soak myself, desperately trying to surface.

When he slams his cock deep into my pussy and starts fucking me, I forget I’m underwater.

I forget I’m supposed to be panicked. None of it matters, because I have Roman deep inside of me.

It took four weeks for me to rewrite my brain and teach my body that pleasure wasn’t harmful.

I had to coax my trauma into letting happiness slip back through.

I forced myself to feel normal, but I wasn’t.

I will never be who I was before being sacrificed.

I will never know who I could have been because of that night nineteen years ago.

What I do know is that I am loved by many, and I am safe.

No matter where I am or what is happening, Roman, Ben, and Huxley will keep me safe to the best of their ability.

Roman pulls my head out of the water, and I gasp for air as he continues to rail me into the counter. “Fuck,” I moan. “Oh, God!”

“God isn’t here, mi amor. It’s just me,” he says in a tone the exact opposite of how hard he is fucking me.

I suck in a deep breath of air before he pushes my face under water again.

This time he presses my face against the bottom of the sink and pushes deeper.

My belly aches, and I am suspended mid-orgasm.

Not being able to breathe is making my lungs burn, and he won’t let up.

I start panicking when I feel faint. I want to believe that he wouldn’t drown me, but he is so lost in his rhythm that I am starting to fear that he might not recognize how close to drowning I am.

I try to push up to get my face out of the water, but he just holds onto me and pounds into my pussy harder.

Roman pulls my head up for just long enough that I can take a deep breath before he forces me back under the water.

The rush of oxygen forces my orgasm out, and I scream underwater, the last bit of my air bubbling to the surface as my arousal floods out of me.

Roman finally groans and shoves his cock as deep as he can as he fucks his come deep into my body.

He pulls me up and unplugs the drain all at once.

I am coughing and choking as I gasp for air. Roman helps me clean up before wiping down the counter. When he turns me to face him, he cups my face. “You… I don’t know how to breathe underwater, Roman.”

“You were never in danger,” he says. “I’m sure it felt like you were, but I was paying attention to your body.”

“I feel bad that I doubted you,” I say.

“You panicked. It’s understandable,” he smiles. “Eventually, you won’t panic. My goal is blind trust, no matter what happens.”

“I am soaking wet,” I laugh.

“I left a nice tip, and we will go straight to the car,” he says, kissing me softly.

“Well, let’s go so you can fuck me in our new house,” I say sweetly, and he chuckles.

We walk out of the bathroom and earn more than a few glances as Roman leads us out.

I look like a hot mess, and everyone in that place just heard me get fucked.

Why is that so satisfying? Knowing that there are other women out there jealous that he is fucking me is thrilling.

We walk out to the new car that Roman bought, and as soon as I go to get in, someone grabs my arm.

“Stop! Let go! Please don’t,” I say with a shrill scream, and my knees immediately buckle.

“Put the gun down, Roman,” a man shouts. I hear Roman holster his pistol before pulling me up from the ground. I bury my face in Roman’s chest, and I’m sobbing, almost hysterically.

“Shh. I’ve got you. You’re okay,” he speaks softly. Over time, he calms me down. When I pull away, he immediately snaps at the agents. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this how you were fucking taught to talk to victims?”

“It was not our intention to upset Ms. Kingston…”

“Mrs. Tolson,” I correct coldly.

“I am deeply sorry that I frightened you. I shouldn’t have done that,” he says gently. “I usually work with the bad guys, not their victims.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I am Special Agent Lance Peterson. This is my partner, Special Agent Vanessa Culver. We are with organized crime in the FBI. It was brought to our attention by an anonymous source that your kidnapping last month was committed by The People of Christ Church based out of New York?” he asks.

“I told local police that, and no one gave a shit. Why do you?” I ask.

“Because we are also investigating their connection into the local police department,” he says gently.

“What do you want from me?” I ask.

“Your story,” he says. “You are the second person to have ever escaped being sacrificed in that cult.”

“Who was the other?” Roman asks.

“Her mother,” Vanessa says bluntly.