THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

It was intimate and dirty both rolled up into one.

All the leaps and bounds we were making came to a halt when his panting voice strummed through every chord I had while my clit sung me straight into the arms of a lullaby, “Hope you enjoyed the show, it’s the only one you’re getting until the point of no return.”

He sounded threatening, but I only heard a challenging tone to his voice that I was willing to take on. Our wedding day was going to be a point of no return and then he would be stuck with me and all my charms that drove him to touching himself.

We were meeting in the middle for now.

My hips swayed, riding my fingers buried knuckle deep inside me while my teeth bit down on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure wrapped itself around me. Bowen’s eyes didn’t drift from mine the entire time I came. His name pranced off my lips, “Bowey,” begging for more when the first orgasm wasn’t even diffused.

Standing up and leaving my body cold where we were pressed together, I grabbed the blanket folded at the end of the bed to cover my chest until I felt strong enough to move. Whenever my legs stopped shaking.

“Just go to sleep, okay? Do what you’re told for once, please.” The please was strained and sounded foreign like he never used the word in his vocabulary.

Bowen disappeared into the bathroom before I could even make puppy eyes for him to stay when I got under the blankets and cuddled up where the bed was broken in, his favorite spot. I was straddling the line of being asleep and awake when Bowen finally reappeared and sat down next to me with his ankles crossed. Sitting against the black leather headboard, I peered out of the slits in my eyes, trying to pretend I was asleep so he wouldn’t run off. His hand pushed my hair back lightly, almost scared to touch me even after what just happened.

“I wish I could tell you all the ways they fucked me up. All the ways they buried your version of me and didn’t tell me where so I could dig it back up before this day came. I don’t know that I’ll ever be that person again for you. I think you’d understand, pretty sure they buried those parts of you too. I’ll hold onto what I remember if you hold onto the parts of me you remember. Maybe that can be enough... remembering, until it sticks,” his voice was somber and pulling every heart string when a single tear glided down my nose as I pretended to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk about it more.

His thumb brushed away the tear before whispering, “I can’t chase the bad dreams away but know I have them too. Haunted by the people we used to be.”

Too bad he didn’t realize I was mourning his confession that my Bowen was dead and buried.

BOWEN

Chevy was already behind her desk, boots kicked up, wearing a Harley Davidson shirt cut below her tits with ripped jeans and a flannel tied around her waist like always. “Donte called twenty times and it’s only eight o’clock.”

Her sassy ass tone wasn’t lost on me as her annoyed eyes landed on mine. Pushing my flat hand to my chest, I feigned some kind of giving a fuck that I never felt. “Oh my god, Chevy. Are you okay? God, doing your job for an hour is hard.” I didn’t stop at her desk when I kicked open my office door.

Slumping down into my office chair, I turned on my computer, ready to kill the hours I put in here so I wouldn’t have to bring any work home. I needed shit to stay here. I wasn’t adding more demons to my roster.

Looking up, I saw Chevy completely turned around with her middle finger in the air and a scowl that could have melted the skin right off my bones. We had a mutual kind of hatred towards each other that kept a wall between us.

Unlike the other girls who had worked my desk, Chevy didn’t warm up to the idea of Stockholm syndrome. Chevy stayed cold and distant, using her middle finger as her favorite response.

I appreciated it. 

It would be a sad day when I hand over her new ID and debit card, you know, if I had a heart that cared.

“Get back to work, Chevy!” Shouting through the open door, I pressed Donte’s contact and the speaker button before dropping my phone down on the desk.

Pouring myself a few fingers of Henny, I listened to the grating ring until he picked up with his gruff voice. “Finally at work, sunshine? We have a problem with the shipments from Denmark and Germany.”

I stopped lifting the glass to my lips at his words, knowing today was about to go up in flames. When there’s an issue in my department of the Clave, it’s an issue only fixed with blood.

The thing about blood is, it doesn’t just soak through your shirt, it seeps down into your soul.

“What’s wrong with Denmark and Germany?” I knew the girls came from all over, but hearing Denmark only brought Eve to mind and it left a bad taste in my mouth.

“Romeo isn’t cooperating. He’s making demands, and I don’t call the shots on the money, only the pussy.” Donte’s voice was rough and full of grit the way you’d expect someone to sound when they walk a path of darkness instead of light.

I was part of a vicious cycle, a cog in the machine, the guy approving shit behind a desk when I had first-hand knowledge.

“Give him whatever he wants.” I coughed around my words, trying to cover up