Page 24 of Vows in Sin

S eraphina

Dame ghosting me was painful. Not in the way a cut hurts, sharp and clean. No, it was the kind of hurt that festers. I felt the same type of pain when I stood in front of that room of successful people and put my utter humiliation on display, one photo board at a time.

When you fool yourself into thinking that you are beginning to forget, it’s the ache that fills your mouth with bitterness when you least expect it. It keeps you awake at night, scrolling through old texts and emails, trying to pinpoint when things went so wrong.

The wound my sister left will never scar. It bleeds beneath the surface. Always will.

Reign was the confusion that followed. The pull I hated myself for feeling. Every time I ran to him, I told myself it was for comfort, for closure, for anything but what it was: an addiction I craved.

He was the end of the line of my bad decisions.

Every time I left his arms, I swore it was the last.

But tonight, none of that matters.

Because I’m in his arms again.

This time, he came to me. Chased me onto this balcony. And told me I was his.

His mouth claims mine like he’s punishing me for every second we’ve spent apart.

His kiss is a mix of rage and grief, and something so wild that it almost frightens me.

His tongue slides against mine, hungry, demanding.

One hand fists my hair with a grip that borders on pain—but I lean into it, welcoming the sting, because it’s real. It’s him.

He pulls back enough to stare down at me.

And that look?—

That look wrecks me.

Because his eyes aren’t hungry.

They’re starved.

He’s not asking for part of me. He wants it all. Every broken shard. Every ruined piece.

“Come here.” It’s a growling demand that I can’t resist. “Get over Daddy’s lap. Right now.” He has enough strength in his one good arm for two. He slips his hand under my arm, dragging me over the bench, and onto his lap till I’m sitting on him.

Facing him.

My arms wrap around his neck like they love to do.

I stare at him, and it’s like no time has passed between us. Only, this time, we’re face-to-face. Equals. Each of us knows how much we need one another.

How much we both need this.

I kneel on his lap, knees pressing into the bench as I make a slow show of lifting my dress and inching it over my skin and revealing myself to him bit by bit.

And he relishes every movement in watching me. His gaze moves from my bare thigh to my face. He likes what he sees. He knows that this is turning me on.

To turn him on.

I reach down, unbuckling his belt. I haven’t even touched him yet and he’s already moaning, easing back against the bench. He’s already hard for me. I take him out of his pants, my pussy wet from looking at that gorgeous god that stands ready for me.

I rise, knees digging into the bench, ready to ease myself down onto him.

“Let me guess.” He gives a gruff chuckle. “No panties?”

“For you?” I laugh. “Never.”

I hold his shoulders, careful not to grasp the injured one too tightly. I feel the head of his already glistening cock nestle at my opening. I’m heat and wetness, and all I want is for his glorious hardness to fill me up.

This time I don’t need him to turn off my thoughts. I want him to wake them up. I want to feel every inch of him inside me. I want us locked together.

“Look at me,” I say. “I want every part of us connected right now.”

He stares up at me. “God. Could you be more perfect?”

We keep our eyes locked.

“You like this?” I sink onto him. Slowly. Revealing myself to him bit by bit like I did when I was lifting my dress for his pleasure.

“You’re going to kill me woman.”

“Savor it, daddy,” I joke back.

A deep moan rises from him. Out of patience, he grabs my waist with his good hand, lifts his ass off the bench and yanks me down onto his lap.

“Oh god!” My eyes close, my head lulling back as he simultaneously jacks his hips up in the air, a punishing jackhammer thrust entering me.

I stretch and burn, warm tingles of delight and fire sparking inside me.

“Seraphina,” he gasps. “My arm.”

I glance down, seeing that my fingernails are digging into him. Hard. “Oh crap. Sorry.” I smooth my hands down his arms, gently over the sling then bring one hand up to his good shoulder, holding on as I move my hips back and forth.

“You’re a fucking goddess. So beautiful. Let me see you.” He cups my face in his palm, slipping his thumb between my lips.

One hand holding onto his neck, I stare into his eyes as I suck his thumb, rocking and rolling my hips, letting that delicious burning yearn grow in my core.

“Fucking hell, Seraphina. You’re gonna kill an old man.”

I tighten the hold I have around his throat. He leans back, rewarding my naughty move with a punishing upward thrust of his hips. With one hand, he forces me to clamp down on him, glueing me to his lap as he starts fucking me, hard and fast.

I’m bouncing on his lap, sucking his thumb like I would his cock. I clench my pussy around him, locking my muscles tight.

“Hold it there,” he moans. “Come with me. Are you ready, sweetheart?”

I don’t want his thumb out of my mouth. I nod. He grips my hip harder, bouncing me as he reads my moans. When my head finally throws back, my cry frees from my throat. “Yes! Reign. Yes!”

He gives his own victory cry, holding me down on him so he can fill me up with his liquid heat. I collapse against him, my head falling against the curve of his neck and good shoulder.

He wraps his good arm around my waist, catching his breath. “Come here, my doll.”

He brushes my hair back from my face, replacing it with the scruff of his beard as it rubs my skin. His lips are warm, his voice gruff. “When do we tell Tabitha?”

Our perfect moment is over.

“Hang on.” I stand, doing my best to catch what I can in the pocket square that he hands me from his suit jacket pocket. I rub between my legs, trying not to ruin my dress.

I sit down on the bench, leaving enough room between us so we can look at one another. “Not yet. There’s far too much going on. We don’t need to add to the drama.”

“Drama?”

I press a hand to his chest. “If you know Tabitha like I do, when she finds out, there’s going to be. Real. Serious. Drama.”

He grabs my hand in his. “But I want the world to know.”

“So do I,” I agree. “But not yet.”

He brings my hand to his lips. He sucks the end of my fingers, biting them before he releases. “When?”

“When things calm down.”

“I need a date,” he urges.

“After the wedding.”

He eyes me. “How soon is this wedding?”

“A couple of days,” I reassure. “No more than that. I promise. Emilia says what the people need now is hope. And weddings bring hope.”

Desperate, his brows rise. “Right after?”

“At least let the bride and groom cut the cake first,” I joke.

Footsteps approach. My heart stutters. No one can know.

Not yet.

I pull my hand away from his just as Cleopatra steps out onto the balcony.

“Hey, you two.” Cleopatra looks from me to him. Then back to me. “Cash landed not long ago. He wants everyone in the dining room.” She shakes her head. “What a way to have your vacation cut short.”

We make it back to the table as they're clearing away plates, him coming in a few minutes after me. I sit there, my body humming, my lips on fire, subconsciously staring down at my lap, examining my light-colored dress for tell-tale stains.

I smooth a napkin over my lap. Luckily, tonight there are plenty of those on the table.

He slides in beside me, energy and heat. Our bodies don’t touch but I can feel the already building wave of fresh need pulsing from him. The lights dim.

A well-dressed man with dark hair and light eyes steps behind a podium at the front of the room, Cash, the current leader of their ashen Village. There’s a quiet whirring sound as a white screen unveils behind him.

He clears his throat. There’s no other sound in the room as he addresses the crowd with his heavy gaze.

“The Bachmans have faced tragedy before. We will face it again. We will confront this devastating attack, just as we have all others before. And we will face the hardships sure to come. We will face them with resilience, honor, and hope.”

A cheer rises from the crowd.

“Many of us came from nothing. All of us are strong.” Casting his eyes down, he holds up a hand for silence.

“I don’t want our strength to be our downfall.

We will rebuild. We will rise from the ashes.

” He raises his head, eyes cast over the crowd.

“But make no mistake; The devastation we face will be overwhelming.”

The screen behind him lights up. What we’re looking at appears to be either recent footage or a live camera feed of the Village.

The rubble that’s left.

A shocked gasp carries through the crowd.

Beside me, Reign’s head lowers. Under the table, I reach over, putting a hand over his thigh. Instantly, he covers my hand with his, gripping me tight.

Those who were there witnessed the explosions and flames firsthand. But this. This is a graveyard of their fortress. Their safe space. Their home.

Bachman Avenue is blocked off. All of the beautiful stores I loved to walk along—gone—heaps of brownstones and tattered signage in their place. A scene out of a dystopian movie. The block looks strange; instead of the strong, proud building, everything as far as you can see is piles on the ground.

Bulldozers beep as they scrape along the concrete, lifting massive heaps of rubble with their scoops.

I watch as one machine drives its load toward the street, dumping it into a chaotic mound.

Amidst the debris, a few brightly colored objects are visible—a broken lampshade.

As the digger pulls away, a worn tennis shoe tumbles from the pile, bouncing off the concrete.

Someone sobs.

The lights come on.

Cash is already leaving the room, arm in arm with his wife Ella. I catch him brushing at his eyes.

Reign clears his throat. “I’ve never seen him like that before. Let me catch up with him.” He stands, excusing himself, heading in the direction Cash has gone.

My heart goes out to this family. I’ll help as long as I can.

But I have an apartment. Rent due. A job to be found.

Will he stay here? Will he be one of the ones who eventually go back to rebuild?

Will they go back at all?

And how do I fit into the rebuilding of his life?

If I even do.