Chapter 129: The Jealous Lamb Bites

LEITANA

MY face burned as I stared up at Ravial, my husband, my everything. The room felt too small now, the distant music and laughter seeping through the door like a mocking reminder of how far I’d strayed from everything I’d been taught.

We had just… done that. Right here. Against the wall first, then bent over the chaise like animals. In a place like this. A wicked masquerade full of strangers and sin. My body still hummed with the aftershocks, thighs slick, core aching in the best and worst way but my heart twisted with shame.

This wasn’t how a woman of God was supposed to behave. Sacred things belonged in our ceremonial bed, under soft lamplight, with prayers whispered before and after. Not here, raw and frantic, because jealousy had stripped every teaching from my mind. I’d slapped him. Screamed at him in my broken anger. Let him take me hard and filthy because I thought he was about to betray me with someone else.

And all along… he had known it was me.

My chest ached—shame and relief and something darker twisting together like vines.

I do get angry, I realized with a jolt. Avery had been wrong about that part of me. I did get angry. Furious enough to lose myself. And the thought of directing that fire at Ravial made fresh tears sting behind my eyes.

His hand slid up my thigh, slow and possessive, fingers tracing the trembling skin still marked from his grip. He was still inside me, still hard, thick, pulsing like he hadn’t finished claiming me at all.

I whimpered softly.

“Mi Ravial… no more,” I whispered, voice shaking. “Not proper… we do outside…”

He chuckled, low and dark. The sound vibrated through me where we were joined, making me clench around him involuntarily.

“Not proper?” he murmured against my ear, lips brushing the shell. “Lamb… you just let your husband fuck you raw against a wall while a hundred people danced ten feet away. You came so hard you screamed my name loud enough the whole floor probably heard.”

His hand squeezed my thigh, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to make me gasp.

“And now you want to lecture me about propriety?”

Heat flooded my cheeks again. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding deep.

A helpless moan slipped out of me.

“You slapped me,” he growled. “You cried. You begged. You took every inch like you were starving for it. And now you’re telling me no?”

His other hand slid up, cupped my breast, thumb flicking over my nipple.

My back arched before I could stop it, my traitorous body answering him even as my mind screamed propriety, shame, stop.

“Mi Ravial… plis…”

“Please what?” he rasped. “Please stop? Or please don’t?”

I couldn’t answer.

Because the next breath he pulled out—torturously slow—then flipped me.

He bent me over the chaise. My hands braced on the arms, ass in the air, legs spread wide by his knee.

And he slammed back in. Hard.

I cried out, sharp, overwhelmed.

He was rougher than usual. Feral. Unrestrained.

Every thrust drove the air from my lungs. His hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back so I arched like a bow. The other gripped my hip, fingers digging in, marking me deeper.

“I can’t believe my lamb thought I’d fuck someone else?” he snarled with every brutal snap of his hips. “That I’d touch another woman when you’re mine, when you carry everything I need, and there is nothing in them that you don’t have and more?”

I sobbed, pleasure, pain, love crashing together.

“No… no…”

“Say it again,” he growled, voice gone animal. “Say who you belong to.”

“Yu…” I gasped. “Yu… Ravial, yours…”

He fucked me harder, deeper, almost punishing.

“My wife,” he rasped. “My lamb. My fucking everything.”

His fingers found my clit, rubbing fast, merciless circles.

I shattered again, screaming, clenching so tight around him he groaned like he was dying.

He didn’t stop.

Kept pounding, brutal, chasing his release.

“You’re mine,” he snarled. “No one else. Never anyone else.”

One last deep slam and with a guttural roar he spilled hot inside me.

We collapsed, sweaty, shaking, tangled.

He pulled me against his chest, still buried deep, arms locking around me like iron bands.

His lips found my temple, soft now.

“I will never touch another,” he whispered, voice raw. “You’re the only one. Always.”

I turned in his hold, tears still falling, and pressed my face to his throat.

“Mi sorry,” I whispered. “Mi jealous… mi angry and for thinking yu will hurt mi.”

He kissed my forehead, gentle, and tender.

“I know.”

His hand stroked down my spine, slow, soothing.

“I love that you’re jealous,” he murmured. “Means you feel it too. Means I’m not alone in this madness.”

I hiccupped a small laugh.

He tilted my chin up.

“Look at me.”

I did, eyes probably red and swollen.

His face was serious.

“You’re mine, little lamb,” he said softly. “And I’m yours.”

I nodded and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He deepened it, slow, claiming, but tender now.

Then he eased out of me, slowly, and carefully making me whimper at the loss. I felt the warmth trickle down my thigh as he tucked himself back into his trousers with that calm precision of his, adjusting his jacket like nothing had happened.

I straightened on shaky legs and reached for the emerald dress pooled around my ankles. My fingers trembled as I tried to pull the gown back up, the fabric wrinkled, marks blooming on my skin. I fumbled with the straps, cheeks burning all over again.

Ravial stepped behind me without a word.

His hands covered mine, stilling them.

“Let me,” he murmured.

He smoothed the dress up my body with gentle care, fingers brushing the undersides of my breasts, the curve of my waist as he guided the neckline into place. One by one he fastened the tiny hidden hooks at my back, then slid his palms down my sides, smoothing everything like he was rewrapping something precious he’d already torn open.

When he finished, he didn’t step away.

He pressed his chest to my back, arms caging me, chin resting on my shoulder.

His voice was deep, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“So my little lamb thought she could slip away to a place like this… without telling her husband?”

My face flamed hotter than before. I turned just enough in his hold to meet his gaze though his eyes were covered but they seemed too knowing and always had their way of stripping me bare.

“Mi sorry, Ravial,” I whispered, my voice small. “If mi ask yu… yu will not let mi come.”

He tilted his head, studying me.

“I’m here, aren’t I, lamb?” His tone was calm but I knew he was angry though he never seemed to show much of his emotions “Right beside you the whole time.”

I blinked. “Ohhh…”

“Yes.” He leaned closer, lips at my ear. “If you had told me about your little plan, if you had let me in on whatever scheme you and your team cooked up—we could have done this properly. Together. Instead you chose to play stranger games behind my back.”

His voice dropped, a bit of his anger surfacing

“And I am not happy with you, wife.”

My gaze dropped to my feet. Shame curled tight in my chest, not hot anger this time, but the quiet, aching kind that came from disappointing him. I hated that look on his face, the one that said I’d crossed a line even he hadn’t expected.

Ravial’s fingers caught my chin, gentle but firm, lifting my face until I had no choice but to look at him.

“Don’t ever do this again,” he said, each word calm but serious “This place is crawling with wolves, lamb. Dangerous for someone like you. If anything had happened, if anyone had laid a finger on you, I’d have spent the rest of the night clearing bodies. And that many questions in one evening tends to draw attention we don’t need.”

My breath caught. Clearing bodies. The casual way he said it sent ice down my spine even as heat bloomed low again. I searched his face, what did he mean? but he didn’t explain.

Instead he repeated, softer but final:

“Did I make myself clear . Do not ever do something like this again.”

I swallowed hard.

“Yes, mi Ravial.”

Silence stretched for a few seconds.

Then his expression softened just a fraction.

“Smile for me,” he said quietly. “Don’t look sad. I don’t like you looking sad.”

I tried. The corners of my mouth lifted, tentative, then real. A small, shy smile that made my eyes crinkle.

“Yu no longer upset right?” I asked hopefully.

He exhaled through his nose almost a laugh.

“I can’t stay upset with you for long, my lamb. You know that.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. “But since you planned to come here without telling me… I’m sure you also planned a way to apologize to me properly tomorrow, didn’t you?”

Color rushed back into my cheeks, bright, and guilty.

I leaned up on my toes, cupped a hand around his ear, and whispered my promise, soft, filthy, just for him.

Ravial’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile, the kind that promised he’d collect with interest.

“You better keep to your word, wife,” he murmured, voice dipping to husky.

I blushed harder, ducking my head against his chest for a second.

Then he wrapped one possessive arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his side.

“Come, Madame Élodie,” he said, amusement threading through the command. “Let’s go get what you came here for.”

I laughed, breathlessly and let him guide me toward the door.

As we stepped into the shadowed hallway, his hand stayed firm on my waist.

A silent reminder.

I was his.

Always.

And next time… I would tell him everything.