Chapter 23 Consummate
LEITANA
The ride back to his home was very silent. Too silent.
I was pressed all the way against the car door like if I moved even one inch, something dangerous would reach out and grab me. Ravial sat on the far side of the back seat, long legs stretched, one arm resting along the top of the leather, the other lying on his thigh. He wasn’t touching his phone. He wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t even looking at me, at least I didn’t think so, because of that black blindfold that never came off.
But I felt him.
I felt him the way you feel thunder before it strikes.
My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it over the engine. My fingers worried the little card Lafu had pressed into my hand, twisting it again and again until the edges turned soft and crumpled. I didn’t even want the thing. Modelling? Showing my body to strangers like that? The thought made my stomach knot. Papa God would never be happy with me if I did something so shameful… yet I had slipped the card into my purse anyway. I didn’t understand myself anymore. What was happening to me?
I stole a quick glance at him.
His head was turned toward the dark window, streetlights flickering across the sharp line of his jaw. Tight. Dangerous. Unpredictable.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
The silence felt like it was pressing me into the door. I couldn’t bear it another second.
“Ravial…?”
My voice came out small and shaky, barely louder than a whisper.
He didn’t answer right away. Just turned his head, slow, until I felt that blindfold burn straight through me.
“You kept the card,” he said. Not a question. A statement. Low and deadly.
My breath caught. “Mi… no mean…”
“Give it to me.”
His hand opened, palm up, waiting.
I nodded. I held it out like it was on fire. He didn’t move to take it. Just waited until I leaned across the wide seat and placed it on his open palm myself. The second my fingers brushed his skin, he closed them. Trapped my hand inside his for one heartbeat… two… three… then let go, but kept the card.
He turned it over once. Twice. Like he was reading it with his fingers.
Then, without looking, he tore it in half.
Again.
Again.
Until it was confetti.
I gasped.
He let the pieces fall onto the floor of the car like snow.
“Ravial…”
“No one photographs you,” he said, voice so calm it made the hair on my arms stand up. “No one puts you in magazines. No one looks at you and thinks they can own even a piece of what’s mine.”
I stared at the little white scraps on the dark carpet. “Mi sorry…”
He shifted then, sudden and smooth, closing the distance between us until his thigh pressed against mine, until the heat of him swallowed the whole car. “You are already seen, little lamb. By me. Every day. Every hour and breath. That’s enough.”
My back hit the door. Nowhere left to go.
His hand came up, slow, and cupped the side of my throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there, thumb stroking the wild pulse under my jaw.
“Do you know what I saw when that woman showed me the picture?” he asked, soft as sin.
I shook my head, barely.
“I saw the only thing in this world I want to keep untouched.” His thumb pressed a little harder, tilting my chin up. “And I saw a hundred thousand men looking at it, wanting it, dreaming of it. And I wanted to burn the camera. Burn her eyes. Burn every screen that would ever dare show you like that.”
My breath was coming too fast. “Yu… yu can’t…”
“I can.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear, and I felt the words more than heard them. “I already decided, Leitana. The first time you cried in my arms in that elevator. The first time you kissed me like you were starving. You stopped belonging to the world the moment you said my name.”
I was shaking now. Not from fear. From something hotter. Deeper. Something that made my thighs press together and my nipples ache against the silk of my dress.
“Ravial…” It came out a whimper.
His hand slid from my throat down to the neckline of my gown, fingers tracing the edge where fabric met skin. “Tell me, little wife… when she called you beautiful, did it make you wet?”
I choked on air.
“Did it?” he pushed, voice dropping into that dark place that made my belly flip.
“Mi… don’t…” I couldn’t lie. My body was answering for me, heat flooding between my legs like I’d done something shameful.
He smiled against my temple. Slow. Wicked. “Good. Because only I get to make you wet. Only I get to watch your eyes go wide when you feel it for the first time. Only I get to taste it.”
The car slowed. I hadn’t even noticed we were pulling through the gates.
He didn’t move away. His fingers slipped just beneath the fabric of my dress, brushing the swell of my breast, teasing the edge of where I’d never been touched.
“You’re going to forget her name,” he whispered. “You’re going to forget every word she said. And tonight, when I take this dress off you, piece by piece, you’re going to learn exactly who you belong to.”
The car stopped.
The driver killed the engine.
Neither of us moved.
His lips grazed mine, not a kiss, just the promise of one.
“Say it,” he ordered, soft and lethal.
I was drowning. “Say… say what?”
“That you’re mine. Only mine. And no camera, no magazine, no goddamned person in this world will ever take you from me.”
My voice broke. “Mi… I’m yours, Ravial.”
His hand tightened on my breast, possessive, perfect.
“Good girl.”
Then he opened the door and pulled me out with him, his large hand settled possessively on the small of my waist. We climbed the stone steps in silence, every footfall echoing loudly in my ear, until we crossed the threshold of the villa. The moment the heavy double doors clicked shut behind us, he moved fast, unstoppable.
He spun me around and slammed me back against the wood so hard the air burst from my lungs.
My heart was racing, pounding against my ribs like a wild thing trying to escape. I knew…I knew…what was coming. He was finally going to claim me, truly make me his wife in the eyes of the world and the flesh. The thought alone sent my mind spinning into chaos.
It’s not a sin… right?
It’s not a sin?
I kept whispering it to myself, over and over, like a desperate prayer. We were married now. Before Papa God, this had to be allowed… didn’t it?
A storm of feelings crashed inside me, fear, shame, guilt, and something hotter, something that made my skin burn and my breath catch.
Ravial pinned me there with one hand splayed flat between my breasts, feeling every frantic beat of my heart. His other hand had already fisted in the silk of my gown, dragging the fabric higher, higher, until cool night air brushed my bare thighs.
“Ravial…” I gasped, my palms flying to his chest, not to push him away, but just to hold on, because my knees had turned to water and I was sure I would fall.
He said nothing at first. He simply stared down at me, that black blindfold swallowing the light, lips slightly parted as if he were breathing me in, my fear, my trembling, my want.
“Listen carefully, little lamb,” he finally said, voice rough, low, dangerous. “Tonight you stop asking your God for permission. Tonight you ask me.”
His hand left my chest and came up to grip my jaw, forcing my face up to his.
“Open your mouth.”
I obeyed before my brain caught up. My lips parted on a shaky breath.
He slid two fingers inside, slow at first, pressing down on my tongue until I tasted him, salt and smoke and something darker.
“Suck.”
My eyes went wide. Heat exploded low in my belly. I closed my lips around his fingers, shy at first, then harder when he growled, “Good fucking girl.”
He watched me like I was the only thing worth burning the world for, thumb stroking my cheek while I sucked and licked, innocent and filthy all at once.
When he pulled his fingers free, they were wet and shining.
He brought them down between my legs without warning, pushing my panties aside and sliding through slick folds that had never known a man’s touch.
I cried out, back arching off the door.
“Little Lamb,” he hissed, feeling how soaked I was. “You’re dripping for me. This pretty little virgin pussy has been crying for its husband all night, hasn’t it?”
I couldn’t speak. Could only whimper and nod, ashamed and aching.
He circled my clit once, twice, then pushed one thick finger inside me.
Tight. So tight. I squealed, legs shaking.
“Shh,” he soothed, dark and mocking. “You’ll take more than this soon. You’ll take all of me. Every inch. Until you forget every prayer you ever learned and only know how to scream my name.”
He added a second finger, stretching me slowly, curling them until I saw stars.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I forced my eyes open. Tears of overwhelm already gathering.
“You feel that?” He thrust deeper, knuckles brushing my entrance. “That’s mine. This heat, this wetness, these tiny little clenches when I move, mine. No camera will ever catch the way you look right now. No man will ever hear the sounds you’re about to make.”
My hips started rocking on their own, chasing his hand.
“Please… Ravial… mi no save… something coming… I feel it inside… I can’t stop it… I’m scared…”
He laughed, low and sinful. “I know exactly what you feel, baby. You feel empty. And you’re about to learn how full I can make you.”
He withdrew his fingers suddenly and I whined at the loss.
Then he dropped to his knees.
Right there in the entrance hall, my husband pushed my dress up to my waist, tore my panties clean off with one rip, and spread my thighs wide.
The first lick of his tongue was slow, from my entrance to my clit.
I screamed.
He didn’t stop. He devoured me like a starving man, long, filthy licks, sucking my clit into his mouth, fucking me with his tongue until my legs gave out completely and only his hands on my hips kept me standing.
“Ravial..oh God..mi no kan….mi bae krae…”
“Come,” he growled against my pussy. “Come on my tongue right now, little wife. Show me who this body prays to.”
He sucked hard.
I shattered.
The orgasm tore through me like lightning, thighs clamping around his head, hands yanking at his hair, sobbing in Bislama and broken English while he licked me through every pulse, drinking every drop like it was holy.
When it passed, I was limp, sliding down the door.
He caught me, stood, and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
I buried my burning face in his neck, trembling.
“Ravial… mi shame… I feel like…” I trailed off.
He carried me up the grand staircase, voice a dark promise against my ear.
“You’re not broken, baby. You’re just getting started.”
He kicked open the bedroom door.
Threw me on the bed.
Loomed over me, already unbuttoning his shirt, blindfold st
ill in place, his snake straining huge and obscene against his trousers.
“Take the dress off,” he commanded. “Show me what belongs to the devil tonight.”
My hands shook so badly I could barely find the zipper.