Page 28 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)
Bria
Days passed by us like minutes.
So fast that within the blink of an eye, I was lying in our bed, admiring my wedding ring as it glistened in the light from the mid-morning sun.
It was an intricate white gold band that twisted around a solid black stone—obsidian—accented with five nude diamonds and a single deep red ruby.
Dallas designed the ring himself after our first performance together, and it was only yesterday that it was ready to be picked up. The second he placed it on my finger, I sent a photo to Asher, no longer feeling the need to hide my marriage from her.
Ash: I FUCKING KNEW IT! The man has good taste… in women AN D jewelry.
I laughed at her response, my heart feeling complete with her acceptance of Dallas and not questioning my decision to marry him.
I may have omitted the minor detail that we had been married for several weeks at this point. The official timeline was irrelevant, of course.
My husband had me floating on a cloud, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life in this blissful high.
With a deep groan and dip in the mattress behind me, strong arms wrapped around my body, pulling my back against a warm chest. My husband nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck with a deep inhale.
“Quit staring at that ring and admire me instead.” He grumbled into my hair, and I giggled, rolling my lips together and snuggling further into his body.
“I admire you more than enough during the day. Besides… You don’t sparkle in the light.”
“If I start to sparkle in the light, we’ve got far bigger problems than you and that ring, sweet girl.” Dallas yawned as he released his hold on me and rolled onto his back to stretch out. I followed, turning to face him with my chest pressed up against his side and a leg draped across his hips.
“What’s the plan for today?” I asked, drawing lazy circles around his toned abs, tracing the dips between them. And, as if on cue, his phone chimed with a notification .
Without pulling his body away from mine, Dallas stretched an arm out to reach for his phone that had been resting on the end table.
After picking it up, he frowned, glimpsing the notification preview on the lock screen before opening up the message.
“That’s not—” I let out a subtle gasp as I peeked at his phone, trying to read the text and seeing the name Dustin in the top left corner.
Dallas only gave me vague details about Dustin, stating that he was at the highest level you could be in the MUR—a position only passed down to those born into the Slate bloodline.
“It is. We’ve finally been given your test, and it’s scheduled for tonight.” He dropped his phone onto the bed with a heavy sigh before rolling onto his side and holding me close. Our breaths mixed as the tip of his nose rubbed along the bridge of mine. “Are you ready for this?”
A rhetorical question—one that I couldn’t refuse even if I wanted to.
I knew this day was coming. I spent whatever alone time I had on my phone, browsing the internet for things that would land me at the top of an FBI watchlist.
Blood was never an issue for me, but the act itself was my biggest hurdle to overcome. I wondered if I would be forced to torture and maim instead of ending things quickly—like with a bullet to the head or even a violent stabbing .
I avoided any conversation on the topic until now, just wanting to enjoy the little bubble of paradise we had created a little longer before it was all taken away.
“Remember, sweet girl, I’ll be there every step of the way, right at your side. All you need to do is pull the trigger.” Dallas pressed his lips against my forehead as I closed my eyes.
He was always so reassuring and comforting. I never felt unsafe when he was near.
My husband, my fierce protector, my love.
When a wife is tested, their husband is allowed to assist up until the final moment where she is required to draw blood—make the kill.
It's a team effort based on trust and communication; without either, the test and relationship will fail.
I wasn’t playing a role anymore.
Our marriage wasn’t meaningless.
I was his wife—his equal.
And he was my husband, devoted and possessive.
The lines no longer existed, and my morals weren’t up for question.
Dallas barged into the walk-in closet just as I had finished pulling up my tight-fitted, dark wash skinny jeans. My favorite pair, with bronze zipper accents that trailed up the length of my calf, stopping at the crease just behind my knee .
Unceremoniously, he tossed a new pair of matte black Louboutin heels on the floor beside my feet with a smug grin before resting his shoulder against the doorframe. He eyed me up like a meal as he crossed his arms over his chest and dragged the pad of his thumb along his lower lip.
“A little excessive, don’t you think?” I furrowed my brows, bending over and reaching for the trendy stilettos.
Holding one of them up, hooked on a single finger, I pursed my lips as I inspected and admired the bright red glossy sole that complemented the shade of my hair.
“If you think I’m just going to execute my first task with my wife and not go all out, then you’ve forgotten who I am,” Dallas smirked, licking the corner of his lips while turning his hip over and lifting his heel to show off the matching soles of his jet black sneakers—they just so happened to be Louboutin as well, shocker .
“Right… the presumptuous show off, how could I possibly forget?” I mocked with a roll of my eyes as I dropped the arm holding the shoe, still pinched between my fingers.
As I turned away from him, Dallas rushed up behind me, sliding his hands around my belly, one moving up to roll and massage my breast through my bra while the other slipped under my unbuttoned jeans and into my panties.
“Don’t act like I don’t impress you, sweet girl. Your body speaks volumes.” His warm breath caressed the side of my neck as I felt his finger glide through my soaked center. “I can hear her screaming for me right this very second. ”
A moan escaped my lips as I dropped my head back against his shoulder, enjoying the sensation and craving more.
“Don’t tease me when you know we don’t have the time for it.”
“There’s always time for a quick fuck with you.” He murmured as his lips trailed down the side of my neck and across my shoulder, peppering kisses along every inch of my flushed skin.
“You say that now, but just wait until you make me fail my test all for a quick fuck .” I didn’t even want to think about the consequences.
Dallas had intentionally left them vague, and I believed it was for good reason, refusing to question otherwise.
But the minor details didn’t matter.
I would pass my test.
Be the wife he deserved, and be the woman I had always wanted to be—one with control and power unlike any other.
“I hate when you’re right…” Dallas pulled his hand away, and I sighed at the loss of his touch, wishing we had more time.
“I suppose I’ll just have to make sure that once this is all over, you get the best fuck you’ve ever had—explosive orgasms and all.
” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of my cheek before releasing his hold on me and exiting the closet. “Ready when you are, wifey.”
If only he knew just how ready I was.