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

throat with my dick buried deep inside her—whatever brand of fucked up we are was a sight for sore eyes.

“You said it, baby girl. We always match, and right now I don’t match you. Leave your mark on me. I need you to.”

Pulling away enough for her to hurt me, I braced myself while my hands yanked her back down my length making her whimper. She was hugging me tighter, and I could tell she was close to coming just from the torture.

I didn’t expect it, even though I asked for it, when her palm slapped across my face with so much force it stole my breath. My face twisted to the right, absorbing it and letting it be what I needed it to be.

Her hand shook in the air like it had betrayed her. Grabbing her palm, I held it to my lips, covering her hand in kisses as I thrusted deeper inside her, sending her into another almost orgasm before I truly did anything.

 Every thrust, the table collided with the wall, leaving a mark on the white paint like they were trying to match us. Tonguing my lip, I tasted metal, and realized she drew blood too.

Not expecting her tongue to swipe against the wound, she slowly licked my blood away with a devilish smirk that showed exactly where her halo was now… dead and gone.

Picking her up, she wrapped her arms and legs around me. Walking forward, I tried to make it to my bedroom, but it was too far away, so I settled for the floor. Sitting on the cold floor against the wall, I took her with me, and she straddled my lap as I palmed her perky breasts.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled around an inhale as she cupped my cheek, placing a soft kiss on my wound.

Taking her face in mine, I needed more of her lips and the sting that came with them. I kept my knees bent, holding her in place as I kissed her. “We both drew blood, baby. We always do.” Grasping her ass, I helped her hips to roll on top of me and she collapsed against my chest. I knew she was just as close to her orgasm as I was to losing control, and I could hear it with every strangled moan.

“I’m so close.” I don’t know why I warned her. I didn’t even know if it was normal. All I knew was that we were married and having kids was part of the deal, so condoms weren’t a concern.

Rolling her hips on my lap at a faster pace, she laced her fingers in mine, using me to balance, “I want it all, Bowey. Please.” Eve was needy and greedy in a way that made me feel permanently marked by her.

“Say you’re only mine, Eve.”

Leaning into me, her fingers holding mine in her tight grasp, she whispered in my ear, “I’m only yours. I always have been, Bowey.” With her confession, I felt every tense muscle dissolve with an emptying orgasm as she stilled on top of me. Breathing heavily, I trailed kisses up her neck, watching her crumble into exhaustion.

That was all I truly needed to replace my wounds with butterflies.

Picking her up in my arms, I carried her to bed and made sure she had most of the blankets the way she always seemed to steal anyways. Sitting beside her, I watched her fall asleep before I left to search for hidden libations.

Wounds heal. 

Forgiving is another story. 

I don’t forgive the people who hurt her, and those parts needed to be dried out before they consumed me.

BOWEN

Island 

Age 14

My life was all turned upside down and my parents expected me to get over it on their time frame. 

I was still shaken so hard I felt dizzy by losing Eve, and not long after my twin brother Braeden stopped seeing the point in living when he jumped off the cliffs into the shallow part of the water where the rocks were as sharp as swords. 

Nothing to dull them down. 

Nothing to break his fall. 

Nothing to comfort him. 

We never saw eye to eye, fuck, we barely knew each other. All we knew was how much I was labeled the good twin and he was labeled the bad. 

Neither of us asked to feel like halves, neither of us leaned into their assumptions and no one questioned why he took a running start off the cliffs he knew were a death sentence. 

I had lost the two people who I felt any attachment to and all it did was drive a wedge between me and my old life. 

Instead of comforts, I had trauma. 

Instead of people, I had demons. 

Instead of just being a half of two people I absorbed him and acted out like he was still here. I would move between being myself and Braeden until I couldn’t go back to myself. Until things changed. 

I thought my parents were mourning and needed to get rid of me because my face looked just like his. Every time I passed by a shiny surface, I was reminded how much I look like him. There was no escaping him. 

I wanted to rip my own face off. I wanted to pick fights and lose on purpose so my bones would be so deformed, and I would no longer resemble him. 

The fighting, the skipping classes, the amount of warnings Patmos gave me were all more than enough to make my parents send me to the same place Braeden went every summer. Each time he returned he seemed less abrasive, at least for a little while, until the good behavior wore off. 

I never questioned it. 

I had been here for two days, and I wasn’t allowed to leave my bungalow. They delivered food, water, snacks and I had