This mirror in front of me is my greatest enemy right now. I’m brushing my teeth over and over again, trying to rid myself of the memory of him. But no matter how many times I rinse under the faucet and scrape my gums with the bristles, I can still taste him in my mouth. That delicious strawberry taste that I know damn well isn’t fucking strawberry.
I should’ve known that fucker wouldn’t keep his promise. I thought he could be a gentleman, and he would honor his deals like he does when it comes to his business, but that was foolish of me. All he wants is to use me and break me, and he succeeded.
That son of a bitch blatantly took my mouth and owned it as though it always belonged to him. And I freaking let him like it was no big deal. Hell, I even participated by fondling myself right in front of him. The chance of being caught didn’t stop me. No, I was blinded by my desire to be free and subsequently lost the game.
That won’t happen to me again. No way am I letting him win again.
I should’ve bitten down his dick when I had the chance.
I keep brushing my teeth, trying to think of a solution to my situation.
Suddenly, someone knocks on my door and enters. “Ma’am, you’re expected downstairs in a few. Please get ready.” It’s Nick, and he immediately closes the door again before I can respond.
Must be Easton wanting to see me again so he can bask in his victory. Fuck him. I’m not going. He can drag my ass out and rot in hell for all I care.
Or should I? Maybe I’d get a second chance at grabbing something sharp and stabbing him with it.
I don’t know why I keep resorting to these violent thoughts, but they excite me. And it feels better to think about killing him instead of having to constantly remind me how he throat fucked me like some kind of porn girl. And that some deep, devilish part inside me might’ve liked it.
I spit out the toothpaste and chuck the brush into the glass before exiting the bathroom. I come to a full screeching halt the moment I spot my favorite perfume on the makeup table. The same one I have at home.
“What the …?” I mutter as I approach the bottle.
This wasn’t here before. Did Nick leave it for me to find? Was this Easton’s idea? And how does he know so much about me? None of this makes any sense.
Seeing a note attached to the bottle, I take it off and read it.
Put this on plus a brightly colored dress. I want to show you off.
Easton
All thoughts about how awkward it is that he has this exact perfume sent to my chamber evaporate. Show me off? Are we going … out?
The mere thought of leaving this mansion and the property surrounding it makes my heart beat in my throat. I haven’t been out of here since the wedding, and I’ve been dying to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it isn’t here.
I instantly forget everything I was doing, and I spritz some of my favorite perfume on my neck and the inside of my wrists. Then I open the closet and put on something new. A light pink maxi dress that ties around my neck. After I put it on, I check myself in the mirror. Perfect. Lightweight and not too flashy but enough to impress him … and easy to make a run for it in should the opportunity arise. Especially with these flats I’m putting on. If I find an opening, I’ll take it. No questions, no regrets, not a single thought.
And with that in mind, I exit the room and go downstairs.
Easton
When she walks downstairs, it’s like an angel descending from heaven. With her pink hair and light pink dress floating behind her, she’s like a dream come true to me. Everything about her is beautiful—from her pretty face to her petite body and killer legs.
Which is why I find it so hard to deny her the very things she loves. The things she craves, and the freedom she wishes for so badly.
I want to give it to her, but on my own terms and in my own time.
When we parted ways this morning, I knew she’d be mad at me for not giving her what she wanted at the moment. But I couldn’t give her that because then it would give her the impression she’s in control. I’m the one who decides when something happens and when I want to give something of value to her, and that moment is right now.
I hold out my arm and wait until she hooks hers through it before walking her out the door like a true gentleman. I know I can be an asshole, but I’m also her husband, and I will treat her like a princess when it’s appropriate.
We walk to my car, and I help her get inside before closing the door. She glares at me as I go to the other side of the car and sit down beside her. By the time I’ve buckled up, my driver has already started the car and driven off.
She keeps glaring at me as if she’s seen an alien or I’ve said something to her that shocked her to the bone.
I push the button to close off the front of the car to the back of the car so we can have some privacy. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she mutters, averting her eyes.
I frown. “You’re looking at me …”
“I can’t look at you now?” she scoffs.
“You can.” I grab her chin and turn her head. “But not like that. Like you’re hiding something or think I’m the worst man in the entire world.”
“You are,” she says, smirking at her own savviness.
I lick my lips at her comment. “Worse than your father, who sold you to the first bidder?”
Her nostrils flare, and she looks away, blinking heavily. I know I touched on a sore point there, but it’s the truth, and she knows it. Her father couldn’t care less about her, explaining why she’s become such a stuck-up princess. Always trying to grab his attention and then right her wrongs when he wasn’t pleased. Her whole life revolved around making her family happy.
Well, not anymore. She’s mine now, and she needs to remember that.
“I’ll be good to you if you let me,” I murmur into her ear, and I press a kiss just below it. “If you’d just let me kiss you … fuck you … without fighting.”
“No way,” she hisses, but she still bites her lip as I place another kiss on her neck.
“You only say that because you think you should. Because you’ve been taught to act like a lady and defend against any immoral behavior. But you don’t have to with me. I want you to be immoral.” My hand slides up her knee between her legs to right where her soft spot lies. And she clenches her legs in response, her breath faltering. “Be sinful with me. It could be so fucking good.” My thumb brushes over her pussy, across her sensitive areas, and it’s becoming harder and harder for her to push back. She hasn’t tried to fight me off. I can see in her eyes that a part of her wants to resist, but another part of her desperately wants to give in. That need to release herself from all these burdens that were placed upon her the moment her father surrendered her to me.
She doesn’t have to live with that responsibility. All she has to do is willingly give herself to me, and she could be as free as a bird, living in a beautiful mansion with all the riches in the world and anything she could ever wish for.
“Just let it go, Charlotte. Let me love you,” I whisper, parting her legs with my hands. Her eyes close, and her head tilts back a bit as I press kisses all over her chest. Her body lights up underneath my lips. “Let me give you what you need.”
My hand travels up her body, sliding underneath her dress to cup her naked breasts. With my index finger and thumb, I pinch her nipple until it’s taut and her face tightens with excitement. I can’t stop myself from touching her body and seeing her writhe. It feels too good, and she looks so goddamn appetizing in that dress that I almost want to take a bite.
But I have to be gentle with her for now. She’s only just opening up to the idea of me fondling her, and pushing her until she withdraws is the last thing I want. No, I have to take it slow … easy … make her body fall for my touch before her mind does. I want her numb with emotions and sensations, and I want those delicious moans to be the only sound from her mouth.
When I hear the first one, my ears perk up, and I groan back in delight. My cock tents in my pants, but I won’t pay any attention to it as I want this to be all about her. There’s plenty of time to satisfy me later. First, I’ll show her what she could have.
I rub her pussy through the fabric of her dress until her panties are wet. Her lips part but only moans roll off her tongue. She never opens her eyes, and I don’t blame her. If she saw how she was behaving right now, it’d probably mortify her. But she needs to learn to shut off that voice in her head telling her it’s wrong. Even if it is, she shouldn’t care when it feels good. And I will definitely make it feel good.
She’s close, so damn close, only a little further. Her cheeks are red, and droplets of sweat glisten on her skin. My tongue dips out to lick them up while I touch her and she completely unravels.
“Come for me, princess,” I murmur into her ear.
She can’t resist, can’t fight the temptation to let go, and the explosion that follows is pure magic. Her body quivers with delicious shocks as she comes undone. I can feel it between her legs as everything tightens and her wetness grows, and the moan that rolls off her tongue sets me off.
Without thinking, I press my lips to hers and claim her mouth.
She tastes deliciously sweet and sinfully good, and I can’t get enough of her lips. I want to kiss them forever, on every single fucking day because they are mine, just like the rest of her.
But then she pushes me off her and stares at me with complete indignation. As if she wasn’t just as complicit in this.
Tears well up in her eyes, but she holds them back. I bring my hand to her cheeks and softly caress her.
“Why?” she mutters, her voice sounding as though she’s been wiped off the earth.
And I smile in response. “Why? Because I can. That’s why.”
Right then, the car stops, and I open the door. “We’re here.”
Charlotte
Easton gets out of the car, leaving me on my own in this hot as fuck car as my mind reels from what just happened. From what I let him do. Why? Why did I let him overtake me like that?
The moment he started touching me, I should’ve stopped him. But my mouth refused to speak the words, and my body froze in place as he started to caress me. It felt as though I was under a spell, and I couldn’t resist.
The temptation was too great. He knows what buttons to push to make me squirm, and he loves it. He loves the control he can exert over my body, and it makes me so damn angry. I can’t tell whether I’m more upset at him for doing what he did or more upset at myself for letting him, for giving in to the moment … for coming under his command.
I can still feel his fingers all over my thighs, my breasts … my pussy. It’s still thumping underneath my dress. Fuck.
When he opens the door, it takes me a few seconds to catch my breath, and from the wretched smile on his face, I know he finds it amusing. I should step out of my shoes and smack him in the head with one. Except for the moment I step outside, all thoughts of punishing him for what he just did go out the window.
I suddenly feel cold to the bone, and that’s not because of the wind blowing underneath my dress.
We’re right in front of a giant building that’s part hotel, part restaurant.
One of my father’s restaurants. Right here in the Netherlands.
