Page 31 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)

Bria

It probably wasn’t in my best interest to rush into fucking my husband so soon after being nearly strangled to death.

But that minor detail aside, I could see why people become serial killers.

The rush that came from the initial attack and the high that followed the final blow—a hazardous addiction to anyone’s health.

When we arrived home, Dallas refused to let me walk into the house, and on any normal day when I wasn’t sticky or caked in blood, I would have protested and made his life increasingly more difficult.

But I loved the attention he gave me and wanted to soak in every single drop of it as he carried me into the bathroom and started the shower.

After setting me down on the bamboo bench just shy of the water’s reach, my husband crouched down in front of me with a damp white cotton cloth and gently started washing away the evidence of the night’s events .

“You’re positive that none of this is yours… that he didn’t—” His tone was as soft as his touch.

Dallas clenched his jaw before he could finish his sentence, his gaze dropping between my thighs, and without further question, I knew exactly what he was asking.

I had never seen him so emotionally distraught—vulnerable, at war with himself. I loved seeing that he had a sensitive side, even if it was for my eyes only.

“He didn’t stand a chance against me.” I cupped his cheeks, lifting my husband’s face and pressing my grimy forehead against his.

“That man was dead before he even entered the room, and I had absolutely zero intention of letting him so much as get a peek at what I was wearing underneath my clothing.”

Removing my shoes and jacket was as far as I had committed myself to playing pretend whore for this test. Every part of my body belonged to my husband, and I refused to let anyone—even for a challenge like this—see what was his and only his.

I assumed that Dallas had been doing this form of work for several years, and it baffled me to see that he was somehow unsettled by my minor injury. This should have been nothing new to him, but how he acted told me that there’s a lot more still left unsaid between us.

He should have easily moved past the marks by now, seeing that I was perfectly fine and in one piece. And yet, he was acting as though he were the one guilty of creating them .

A man like Dallas didn’t show weakness in the face of death, but there was something more that he wasn’t willing to tell me—something was bothering him on a far deeper level.

“Dallas…” I sighed, wishing there was a way that I could snap him out of his clouded mind.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Bria… for everything.” I could barely hear his words as he mumbled under his breath.

Oh no, my husband was not about to break on me now, not when I needed him to be my armor. My morally fucked up knight.

“Look at me, Ponyboy.” I locked eyes with his bright swirls of color, my words forming directly from the deepest recesses of my heart and soul.

“I don’t know where all this sudden guilt stems from, but you did nothing wrong.

Sure, the whole marriage trap was initially out there and entirely insane—” I had thought about it for a good long while.

And no matter how many times it angered and frustrated me, I always ended up coming to the same goddamn conclusion: “But I love you. Regardless of everything that has happened from then until now— I. Fucking. Love you, Dallas .”

After his confession over a week ago, I spent more time than I’d like to admit figuring out my feelings for my husband, still trying to determine if I was ready to put my heart on the line and risk it all one last time for another shot at forever.

Everything I had once felt for Connor paled in comparison to how my heart beat and thrived for Dallas—how my soul interlocked with his like two flawed puzzle pieces —soulmates .

“And if you ever choose to hurt me, what happened to Leroy will look like goddamn child’s play in comparison to what will happen to you.”

Dallas smiled with a warm laugh as his head fell to my chest, and I wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders, one hand stroking through his hair.

“I wouldn’t dare—And if another man so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll fucking kill him myself…

While we’re on the subject of Leroy, I was going to ask—” Oh boy…

“Most of the women who completed their tests in the past all had difficulty taking a life—a few of them even failing. But you—Sweet girl, you didn’t… Why is that?”

His question was like having a loaded gun pointed directly at the center of my brows.

Oh fuck…

My extended silence made Dallas pull back to look at me, and I still couldn’t come up with the answer he was trying to pry out of me. My lips were parted, but no sound seemed to want to escape them. Not a single fucking word.

“You know what…” Changing the subject, Dallas lightly pressed his lips to mine before pushing himself up to stand and stripping his clothes off layer by layer. “We’ll talk about that later. What we should be doing is focusing on getting you cleaned up and into bed.”

I could feel my jaw drop at the same time as his boxers, and all I could do was subconsciously nod my head in an entranced response, wanting anything but fucking sleep right now. The man standing before me was far more capable of relaxing my body than the bed alone.

I watched as my husband teased and taunted me by stepping back underneath the shower head. The running water accentuating his chiseled abs and clean cut V that lead straight to his hard fucking cock.

I was torn between staying where I was—staring at him in enamored awe—or joining him, pleading to be fucked up against the wall, on the floor and again in our bed.

I once thought of Dallas as nothing more than a problem. But now, when I looked at my husband, all I saw was a craving that needed fulfilling—an addiction that begged to be satisfied.

“The water’s getting colder the longer you sit there gawking, wifey. Why don’t you take off those clothes and let me care for you like a devoted husband should?”

Say. No. Fucking. More.

Before I had even processed it, my clothes fell away from my body as if they were nothing more than loose shreds of fabric, and my eyes were focused solely on his. I no longer felt the throbbing pain surrounding my neck, which I’d refused to disclose to him.

Just like the first night that Dallas brought me home, I threw myself at him, capturing his mouth with mine and moaning as he let me devour it.

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, my body pressed flush against his.

I could feel his raging cock pulsating against my stomach with rapt desire.

“Christ…” He mumbled against my lips, and I giggled, fluttering my eyes to meet his .

“Saddle up, Ponyboy, and take me for a wild fucking ride.”

Not a request… far as fuck from a request.

On demand, my husband picked me up by my thighs, turning and pressing my back up against the cold wall. I flinched from the chill that shot up my spine, clenching my teeth as I sucked in a sharp breath from it.

I readjusted my hold on him, digging my nails into his back as his hips pulled away, and he lined his pierced head up against my center. I glanced down at his cock with a whimper of excitement, bracing myself for its large size.

“Hold on, sweet girl. Wouldn’t want you falling off and hurting yourself,” Dallas whispered beside my ear with a sinful chuckle before he drove his entire length into me, filling me until I felt as if I couldn’t hold any more of him.

He was so thick that the sensation of him thrusting in and out was always overwhelming. I could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it glided against my walls, massaging me from the inside.

Digging his fingers into my ass, Dallas released one of his hands, placing his palm on the tiles beside my head as he continued to move harder and faster, pounding me against the wall.

I let myself go, moaning all forms of curses alongside his name.

Begging.

Pleading.

Harder.

Faster.

More.

More .

I needed all of him, I wanted my husband to fill me with his cum until it was dripping down my thighs until morning. My pussy at full capacity and unable to hold anymore of his DNA.

“Fuck.” Dallas moaned against the side of my neck as I dug my nails deeper, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and hips rolling in time with his thrusts. “You’re going to wear me down tonight, aren’t you, wifey?” He chuckled, sucking on my neck as he grunted his pleasure.

“We can fuck each other to sleep... How does that sound?” I answered through short, breathless gasps.

“That sounds like a challenge, and I’ll gladly accept, my sweet girl… Now, how about you come around my cock and let me hear that beautiful cry you always make—the one where you scream my name as your pussy tightens for fucking more.”

I’ve always loved his filthy mouth, the way he could always tell me to come, and my body would immediately comply without need for further instruction.

My head fell back against the tile, arms wrapping around the back of his head as I held him close and let myself come around his dick while he drove it in hard and deep, his piercings stimulating every single nerve along their path.

“Look at you, gorgeous wifey of mine. Always so responsive to my commands. You deserve another thorough fuck as a reward.” Dallas growled against my shoulder as he teased the sensitive skin with his teeth, releasing my legs and supporting my body as we stood skin to skin under the water .

His sex was a drug, and the more he gave to me, the more I wanted.

When my breathing eased, I cupped his face, staring deep into his eyes with the understanding that he was now mine just as much as I was his.

“I love you.” I breathed, running my thumb along his lower lip, feeling whole and complete—all because of him.

Dallas gripped my chin, pulling my lips closer to his until I yearned for them to touch.

“I’ll always love you, sweet girl.” He murmured as his lips pressed softly against mine, and I melted into him like ice cream on a hot summer day.

This was what forever felt like.

This is how true love is supposed to feel.