Chapter 419: Caught Red Handed By Angela

She looked up at me, eyes huge and glistening like dark pools under the moonlight, voice dropping to something serious, almost accusatory, laced with desperation. "I want you to be responsible for me. "

"It’s obvious... You took advantage of me. You... you took my virginity there, in that way, and now... now I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. You owe me something for that."

"Mira, I..."

She cut me off, anger flaring again, though it trembled on the edge of heartbreak, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Am I... am I not as good as Sister Angela? Tell me... Am I not beautiful? Not worthy? Is that why you’re acting like this was nothing?"

Before I could answer, she closed the distance in a rush, tears spilling freely now as a dam had burst. She grabbed my hand—stronger than I expected, her grip hot and clammy—and pressed it hard against her chest, forcing my palm over the soft, heavy swell of her breast.

I could feel her nipple stiffen instantly under the thin fabric, poking insistently against my skin like a silent plea, her heartbeat hammering wildly as if trying to escape her ribcage.

I yanked my hand back like I’d been scalded, eyes widening in mock horror. "Mira... what are you doing? It was all a mistake... we can’t... this isn’t right."

Her face crumpled completely, like a fragile thing shattering. She started crying harder—great, heaving sobs that shook her whole body, her shoulders trembling as she wrapped her arms around herself again.

"I have no one... Even my husband abandoned me years ago, left me like trash... my children—they don’t like me, they blame me for everything... Tell me... now even you... Don’t want me? After what you did? You made me feel... something, for the first time in forever, and now you’re just going to walk away?"

She looked up at me through wet lashes, voice breaking into a shy, desperate whisper that carried on the night breeze. "Aren’t you a god...? Why can’t you have more than one wife...? Are you willing to accept me...? Please, Dexter... I don’t have anyone else. You broke me open tonight... now fix it."

I studied her then—really studied her, letting the moment stretch. The broken pieces shining in her eyes, the way she’d melted under me earlier, begging silently even as she protested.

She was shattered enough that all she could see now was me—my power, my control, the promise of something solid in a world that had left her adrift and aching.

I softened my expression, reaching out to cup her face gently, my thumbs brushing away the hot tears streaming down. "Mira... don’t cry."

I wiped her tears with deliberate slowness, tracing the paths down her cheeks, then pulled her into my arms. She fit against me perfectly—soft, trembling, needy, her body molding to mine like it had been waiting for this.

I pressed my lips to her forehead, lingering there, inhaling the salty scent of her skin mixed with the sea.

"Do you really want to be my wife...?" I murmured against her hair, voice low and intimate.

She nodded—stubborn, serious, no hesitation now, her chin digging into my chest as she clung tighter.

I tilted her chin up and kissed her properly this time—slow, claiming, my tongue sliding past her lips to taste the salt of her tears and the lingering sweetness underneath, mingled with the faint musk from earlier. \

She moaned softly into my mouth, her hands fisting my shirt. When I pulled back, I let my voice drop into something darker, possessive, my hand sliding down to cup her ass possessively.

"From now on, you’re mine... and you’re not allowed to think of any other men. Otherwise..."

I spun her slightly in my arms, brought my hand down hard across her already sore ass—phhhhat—the smack echoing sharply off the rocks, louder than before in the open air.

Mira yelped, high and startled, her body jolting against mine. "Aaaah... hmm... it hurts... there... you’ve already slapped me so much tonight..."

She pouted adorably, rubbing the spot where my earlier slaps had left her skin hot, tender, and marked with red handprints that throbbed with every heartbeat, the pain mingling with a fresh wave of heat between her thighs.

I chuckled low in my throat, deep and rumbling—then froze solid.

Mira’s face went pale in an instant, all color draining like she’d seen a ghost. Her eyes widened, flicking over my shoulder. I turned slowly.

Angela and Lisa stood at the mouth of the cave, silhouetted against the dim amber glow from inside, their figures sharp in the moonlight.

They’d followed us. Quietly. Watched everything unfold like silent spectators to our little drama. Angela’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat—then cracking into something dangerously sharp, her eyes narrowing in pretend fury.

"Mira... I didn’t expect you to really seduce my husband and try to take him away from me..." Angela said, her voice laced with mock anger, stepping forward with deliberate slowness, her bare feet sinking into the sand. "Here I am, thinking we’re all just trying to survive this hijacking nightmare, and you’re out here in the dark, pressing his hand to your tits, begging him to make you his wife? What kind of sneaky little slut are you?"

Mira’s knees buckled as they’d turned to water. She shook her head frantically, voice cracking into desperate pleas, her hands fluttering uselessly in the air. "No, Sister Angela... don’t... It’s a misunderstanding... I... I didn’t mean to... he thought I was you at first, and then... then things just happened! I was scared, I didn’t know what to do!"

Angela huffed dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with teasing fire. "Misunderstanding? Oh, please. We’re not blind—or deaf. I heard everything from the cave."

"Letting him shove his cock in your ass without a peep until you couldn’t take it anymore? And now out here, crying about how no one wants you, grabbing his hand like a desperate whore? You think I didn’t see you pouting when he slapped that fat ass of yours? You’re practically dripping for him right in front of me!"

Lisa snickered from behind, leaning against the cave wall with arms crossed, her smirk wicked in the moonlight. "Yeah, Mira, that was some performance. ’Aren’t you a god? Can’t you have more than one wife?’ Real subtle. You’ve been eye-fucking him since we got stranded here."