MsTranslator

Gold ring with one love shape diamond, embed with small diamonds around it.

What was meant as a sign of love and devotion for other couples was nothing but a testament of his ownership on me. A daily reminder for the rest of my life. Until death do us part wasn’t an empty promise as with so many other couples that entered the holy bond of marriage. 

There was no way out of this union for me. So I was own by my husband until the end of my life. The last few words of the oath that men swore when they were inducted into the Black Clans could just as well have been the closing of my wedding vow.

This wedding wasn’t about love or trust or choice. It was about duty and honour, about doing what was expected.

A bond to ensure peace in Black territory and White Clans stop more bloodshed in between two big clans on this earth, B Clans and the last W Clans feud that clashes more than 2000 years.

Be Fate

His eyes met mine. I relaxed slightly. There was still darkness in them but it was more contained. 


"I want to feel your body against mine tonight. I want to hold you." 


I could almost hear the unspoken words that I need you. I swallowed. 


"I swear," his voice was gruff as if he'd spent hours screaming orders.


I lowered my hand and let him pull my nightgown off. 


He released a low breath as he gazed at my naked breasts. I had to fight the urge to cover myself. 


His fingertips brushed the hem of my panties but when I tensed they retreated and he rolled onto his back and lifted me on top of him. 


I straddled his stomach, my knees on either side of him, my breasts pressed against his chest. I tried to keep my weight off him because I didn't want to hurt his wounds, but he wrapped one arm around my back and pressed me tightly against him.


 His other hand touched my butt, making me jump. He began moving his thumb across my lower back and butt, and I relaxed slowly. 


The entire time his eyes were bore into mine and with every passing moment a tiny bit more of the darkness dissipated.


He kept stroking my butt and kissing me slowly as if he wanted to savour every moment.


 I was completely overwhelmed but it felt good. I loved that he was suddenly so gentle.


If he was like that when we were intimate for the first time, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. 


My eyelids felt heavy but I couldn't look away from him. I touched his throat, an inch below the cut.


So I wasn't sure why but I leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss against the wound.


 It was small and wouldn't need stitches, not like the one below his ribs.


 When I drew back, he looked almost surprised. His hand on my butt moved lower, cupping my ass cheek.


 His little finger was almost touching me there. He squeezed my cheek and for a moment his finger brushed my opening through the fabric.


I sucked in a breath, shocked by the jolt the small touch had sent through me. 


Heat gathered between my legs and I could feel myself getting wet. I squirmed in embarrassment, not wanting him to realize that a bare brush and his stroking of my butt had caused such a reaction. 


Maybe I wasn't experienced but I'd been imagining certain things, had caressed myself on many nights.


 Maybe I wanted love, but my body wanted something else. The feeling of his strong chest and muscled stomach under me, his gentle kisses, his soft touch, they made me want something more, even if my mind told me it was a bad idea. 


His eyes narrowed a fraction as he studied me, like I was a difficult equation he wanted to figure out. 


Then he lightly graced the crotch of my panties with his fingertips and I knew he could feel it. I could feel that the thin fabric was soaked. 


Feel