Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

And there’s no way she’ll be able to mislead a beast in his natural habitat.

She trips and I catch her by the elbow before she falls, but she pulls on my arm, crying out, and we both tumble to the dirt. She wrestles me, her nails digging into my arm and her delicate face reddening with the effort. The scratch marks on my neck burn, but they trigger my need for more.

The harder she scratches, the rougher I’ll take her. The more she fights, the crazier we both become.

And fuck, how my beautiful wife fights.

It’s our favorite game. Our fantasy. And we’re the only ones who are allowed in it.

I grab her wrists and slam them against the ground above her head, but she doesn’t stop trying to wiggle and kick.

She knows she’ll never overpower me, but she still tries to anyway.

It makes my dick rock fucking hard.

“Stay still or I’ll fuck you dry in the asshole, my slut.”

“No! Let me go!” she shrieks, and I use my other hand to yank her skirt up her legs.

My hand meets her bare cunt and I grunt. “Looks like you came prepared to be taken like a filthy whore, didn’t you?” I slap her on the pussy and she gasps, tears welling in her dark eyes.

“No, please…no. Please don’t hurt me.”

“But I will. I’ll fuck you so hard, so deep, you won’t be able to move.”

“No…please…stop…”

She tries to wiggle free, but I slap her wet cunt again and she cries out, her hands flexing and relaxing in my hold.

I pull down my sweatpants and angle her leg up, then drive into her in one ruthless go that knocks the breath out of her and makes her moan. Loud. So loud that the whole forest echoes with it.

My thrusts are hard and merciless, just like we both love.

After a few minutes of brutal fucking and her body taking me in, I slow down.

“Please…” she cries, tears welling her eyes. “Please…”

“Please what, baby?”

“More, Sebastian. Please, more!”

I give her just that, fucking her hard, then slow, then hard again, until she’s dazed while soaking my dick with her juices.

We come together, both groaning and calling each other’s names.

We might be the beast and the prey, but we’ll always be us. No matter how much time has passed.

I lie on the dirt and pull her on top of me so I’m not crushing her. Her erratic breathing matches the rhythm of the rise and fall of my chest.

We remain like that for a while, letting the fresh air engulf us as we each catch our breaths.

We’ve been married for three years and there hasn’t been a day where I didn’t worship at this woman’s fucking altar.

There hasn’t been a day where I didn’t show her how fucking grateful I am for having her in my life again.

Falling back into each other’s lives has been easier than either of us could’ve thought. It was like picking up where we left off.

Only, I’m no longer a star quarterback and she’s no longer the outcast cheerleader.

I’m a lawyer and she’s a successful businesswoman who’s a perfectionist when it comes to her work but turns into the goofiest person when it’s only the two of us.

We still watch true crime shows together and she’s still scared of horror movies.

Akira, the asshole, is out of our lives for the most part, but whenever we bump into him, he still reminds me that she was his wife first.

The last time we saw him was when we went to Japan so I could visit my parents’ graves for the first time.

Naomi felt so bad when she learned that her father had killed my parents and nearly killed me in the process, but I never blamed her for that.

It’s not her fault that her father is a fucking murderer. I refuse to get caught up in the past after everything that’s happened.

Akira then reminded me of the fucking letters. The ones he read as a hobby each week, the pervert.

When Naomi learned I was Akira—the original one, not the damn imposter—she had a lot of things to say about it.

First she cursed me for being a judgmental asshole.

Then she hugged me because she’d always shared a connection with Akira—me.

And then she kissed me because I found her first. I wrote to her first.

Akira was sort of my alter ego that I invented right after I saw her smiling while crying. I had to get close to her somehow and I heard her once mentioning to Lucy that she preferred Asian men.

I wished I was Asian back then, and that’s how I got the idea of Akira. It was fitting that I was born in Japan and my parents gave me that middle name. A name that represents both the sun and the moon.

That’s how I wormed myself into her life before we ever got together.

“Hey, Sebastian?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you for finding me. I don’t want to imagine how my life would’ve been if you hadn’t.”

“Thank you for coming back to me.” I kiss her forehead.

She looks up at me and smiles. Her whole face lights up when she does it. “Are you happy?”

“What type of fucking question is that? Of course I’m happy.”

“But our family is so small.”

“You’re enough for me.”

“What if I told you there’s another member who wants to join?”