On our way home, Charlotte’s unusually quiet. When I found her at the bar, she was staring off into space with hollow eyes and cold fingers. She came without a fuss, not even a word. In fact, I don’t think she’s spoken to me at all since we arrived at the restaurant.
I suppose seeing her father and brother alive and happy was a bit of a shock to her. It’s one of the reasons I decided to attend the event uninvited. Of course, her father didn’t expect to see me there, but I always need to make sure my investments are solid. I wouldn’t want my name attached to any failing business.
Charlotte was probably dying to see her brother, so I gave her some time alone at the restaurant to spend however she chose. I’d hoped it would take the edge off things. After all, it’s time outside the mansion, time which she highly values. I didn’t expect her to end up this … shaken. Maybe I misjudged her coping abilities. Unless her brother said something to her that caused her to break.
I pull her closer toward me in the car, but she only petrifies. “Did you have a good time?” I ask in an attempt to lift her mood.
“No,” she replies, and she tries to shake me off. “If that’s your version of a date, I don’t want to go on any more dates.”
“No.” I laugh, but she’s not even slightly amused. “But I thought you’d enjoy seeing your family.”
“They’re not my family,” she huffs. “Not anymore.”
“Well, I’m glad you see it that way.” I smile at her.
She gives me the stink eye. “Neither are you. I don’t need any family.”
“Everybody needs family. And I need you,” I say, and I caress her cheek, but she leans away from me. “What’s gotten into you? I took you outside and off the property. I gave you what you wished for.”
“No, you gave yourself what you wanted, which was seeing my father’s face and pride dissolve when he saw me.”
Well, I did enjoy showing off my prize and seeing how badly his business was going, but I didn’t bring her there just for that, so I shake my head. “Nonsense. He doesn’t care about that.”
“About me?” she retorts, raising a brow.
I grab her chin and make her look at me. “He doesn’t give a shit that I took you. That’s how much he loved you.”
She jerks free from my grip. “Like you’re any better.”
“At least I try to be,” I retort.
“You bought me,” she quips.
“He sold you,” I hiss.
“Semantics,” she replies, side-eyeing me. “How long are we gonna play this game?”
“As long as you can keep it up.” Or as long as I have the patience to deal with her.
“What do you want from me?” she asks. “Do you want me to be grateful for the chance to spend time with you at my father’s business while my brother ascends the throne over my rotting corpse?”
“Is that what you think happened to you? You equate being in my care to a rotting corpse?” I have to admit I’m a bit offended by that remark. My house is not a graveyard.
“Might as well since we’re both dead inside,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“You’re only saying that because you’re upset,” I reply.
“Because you dangled a carrot in front of me and it. Was. A. Lie.” She pronounces each word as though it’s her last.
I cock my head at her. “You’re assuming this was the only time I’ll ever take you out,” I say. “Keep going like that, and it might become reality.”
She huffs. “So what, it was a test?”
I clear my throat. “Perhaps.”
I wanted to see what she’d do. I even brought along a few guards to make sure she wouldn’t get away should she attempt to escape. But also to protect both me and her should anything happen to her. Maybe someone would try to steal her away from me again, so I wanted to prevent that at all costs.
But she surprised me by staying at the bar. She didn’t even try to run, which is commendable. Maybe there is some hope left after all.
“I’m proud of you,” I say, leaning toward her. “You faced your family with dignity and didn’t give in to their needs.”
“No … but I gave in to yours,” she says, sighing.
“And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that,” I whisper, placing a hand on her thigh. “There’s nothing wrong with letting go in the moment, Charlotte. You’re allowed to enjoy every touch, every kiss … every bit of my ownership.”
She sucks in a breath as I reach up toward that same spot as before. “I can do this every time we go out as a reward for your patience.”
The moment I touch her pussy, she murmurs, “Stop.”
I pause and allow her to breathe for a moment.
She gazes at me from underneath those eyelashes with those beautiful, soul-sucking eyes that could make any man’s knees buckle under their weight. “Can we go home? Please?”
The word home punctures my heart. Finally, she views my house as her home.
Despite the fact she hated seeing her family, we’ve made some progress here. Maybe she learned I’m not the worst person to be with, and that I’ll give her more freedom if she behaves.
But I know she’s upset, and I don’t like to see her that way. Even though I’m an asshole, I have a heart too hidden somewhere deep inside. And it’s turning softer and softer the more time I spend with her.
“Of course, princess.” I smile and lift my hand to grab hers and then kiss the top. “But first, there’s something else I have to do.”
Her brows furrow. “Where?”
A smirk appears on my lips. “You’ll see.”
Charlotte
He’s so elusive all the time, and I can’t get through to him, no matter how many questions I ask. It’s like he doesn’t want me to get close or to understand him. As if he’s deliberately keeping me at bay.
It’s not working. I can see right through him, just as I saw right through that whole façade back at my brother’s restaurant. Where we’re going is a mystery, but it must be another ploy to get me on my knees or make me cry. Either way, I don’t trust him.
The car drives through town, and I watch the people outside from my little cocoon inside, like a doll in her little dollhouse looking out into the world she can’t have.
I sigh. “How long will it take?”
“We’re almost there,” Easton answers. Instead of a vicious grin, there’s now a modest but genuine smile on his face, but he quickly looks away as though he doesn’t want me to see.
Whatever, I’m so done with today. After that game he just played, I feel like a fool for even thinking he could ever care about anyone but himself.
When the car stops, Easton gets out first and walks to my side, opening up my door like a true gentleman would, but it’s only for show. He’s done it many times before, and this is no different.
Except he doesn’t hook his arm around mine this time. Instead, he grabs my hand and tugs me along without pulling.
The building in front of me is an old one, but it’s decorated with all kinds of colorful murals and lights. But as I try to look around, Easton’s driver comes storming past with two heavy boxes.
“Excuse me!”
“No worries,” Easton says. “We’ll meet up inside.”
“Yes, sir!” the driver says as he enters the building.
I swallow. “What is this place?”
“C’mon. I’ll show you.” Easton holds my hand as we go inside.
There are hallways filled with doors and kids sprouting from every nook and cranny. At the end is a big common room with a television, a few couches, some game consoles, and toys littered everywhere. There are even bookcases against the wall on the other side of the room, but there are only a few books inside.
“What … is this?” I mutter as Easton lets go of my hand.
He goes into the main area where some of the kids gather as his driver places the boxes on a table. The driver leaves and nods at me as he passes me as a courtesy. Then a woman walks out of the kitchen area and smiles broadly at Easton.
“Oh, je bent er!” she exclaims, and she approaches him to kiss him three times on the cheeks.
“Can we talk English?” Easton mumbles, glancing toward me for a second. “She can’t speak Dutch.”
“Of course,” the lady says. “The kids were so eager to see you. They’ve been talking about it all day.”
“I’ll bet,” he replies as the kids gather all around him.
“Meneer Van Buren!” One of the kids runs toward him, wrapping his arms around his leg.
“Hey, David.” Easton pets him on the head.
“Let’s talk English, guys,” he says. “I’ve brought a guest who doesn’t understand Dutch.” He throws me another glance, and so do all the kids, making my face heat. I try not to draw attention to myself as I watch from afar, clutching the doorpost as Easton goes to his knees.
“Now, I’ve brought you all some things again, but you have to promise me you’ll take good care of them and treat them with respect,” he says.
“What is it?” one of the other kids asks.
Easton cocks his head, and says, “Open the box. Go have a look.”
The kids swarm the table and rip open the package. They can’t help themselves. Book after book is pulled out of the box, and they hold it above their heads like a lost treasure they found.
And the smile on Easton’s face as he watches the little kids scream and dance around with the books, some of them giving them a neat spot in the empty bookcase, is infectious. So much so that I can’t stop grinning as he looks me dead in the eyes.
He sure surprised everyone here, not just the kids. There’s something good in him after all.
“What do we say, kids?” the lady says.
“Thank you, Mr. Van Buren!” the kids say.
“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’ll be back soon with more.”
One of the kids hugs his legs again, and he’s having trouble shaking them off. I giggle when the last one’s finally off his shoulder as he approaches me.
“What?” He lifts a brow.
I shrug. “That was nice of you to do.”
“Thanks,” he says.
He eyes me from the side, and I do the same to him, neither of us speaking the words we obviously want to say. It’s too embarrassing to admit that for a second there I actually liked him and that I could actually see the humble, generous man behind the rough façade. The true gentleman he can be when he isn’t trying to be a depraved bastard.
And I think he knows that too.
He showed me something sweet and kind … His weak spot.
Something I could use as a weapon … but choose not to because I won’t stoop to his level. I’d rather admire the realness and keep it in my heart to remember for rocky times.
Easton
When we get home, she seems anxious to get out of the car. Luckily, the door only opens from the outside, so she always has to wait until someone comes to pick her up. I open the door and take her hand as she steps out, and I take her back into my home. For the first time ever, she doesn’t release my hand as we step inside the main hallway. Maybe she’s warming up to me. After showing her the charity work that I do, she finally saw some humanity in me after all.
Or maybe she’s learned that opposing me is futile. Whatever the case, I’m positive she’s adjusting well to her new status as my wife.
She turns toward me, and says, “Can I … look around the house a little?”
Such a strange request. I’m a bit befuddled by it.
“I haven’t had the chance,” she adds. “And I want to get to know my home.”
How could I deny her? “Of course. You can explore as much as you like, but …” I raise a finger. “My study is off-limits.”
She nods. “I just wanna see …” She bites her lip and glances over my shoulder at the closed door to my study.
“What?” I mutter.
“The cameras.” She gazes straight into my eyes as her tongue swipes across the top of her lip, and it immediately makes my cock hard. “Where you watch me.”
“Hmm …” A lopsided grin forms on my face.
“Can I see them?” She cocks her head and continues to bite her lip in that seductive way that makes me want to pick her up and bang her against the hardwood door.
“I only wanna take a peek. That’s all,” she adds.
I narrow my eyes at her. When did she learn to use her attractiveness as a weapon? She sure drives a hard bargain. I like it. “As long as you don’t touch anything.”
Her eyes glow brightly. “I promise I won’t.”
I firmly grab her hand and take her toward the door, unlocking it with the key from my pocket. She walks inside and marvels at all the books. The last time we were here, she was running away from me while we were arguing. There was no time to appreciate my collection or the aesthetics of this room. It’s my favorite place in the house … after her bathroom, of course.
She inspects some of my collectibles, such as a statue that came from Egypt and an old handcrafted globe from the 1800s. Then she walks up to my desk and slides her hand along the wood as though it hides a million secrets she can’t wait to unravel.
“So this is where you sit?” she asks.
“To view the cameras? Yes,” I reply as I approach her from behind.
“But there’s only a laptop,” she says, opening it. Obviously, it’s locked with a password so she can’t see anything I don’t want her to see. And if she ever did manage to unlock it, this laptop is stationary and has no connection to the internet, only the intranet. I don’t want her sending out calls for help. Besides, I doubt she’ll ever find my trusty work laptop hidden in a secret compartment in my room.
“You don’t need much more than that,” I muse, standing right behind her as she closes the laptop and arches her back when I place a hand on her waist. My cock presses against her ass as I whisper in her ear, “But where’s the fun in that?”
She sucks in a breath while I lean forward, but instead of kissing her on the back of the neck, I press a tiny button underneath my desk. She gasps as a huge screen appears in front of us, sliding out of the top of the windowsill.
I give a voice command. “Show cameras.”
The screen immediately shows about a dozen or more live feeds from several cameras around my home, along with the one situated in her bedroom and bathroom … and the room we’re currently standing in.
I don’t even have to look at her to know she’s impressed because I can feel her breath faltering from where my hand is resting. Her finger lifts toward the screen, pointing at that one camera filming us right now. She cocks her head and waves, then she checks the room to find the camera above the door.
“Found it,” I mutter, smiling as she’s spun around in my arms while she was searching.
I place both hands on the desk behind her, trapping her. Her cheeks turn red as she leans back against the desk, and there’s a definite sheen of sweat right above her chest.
“Do the cameras scare you?” I ask with a low tone of voice.
She swallows and places her hands on the desk too. “No. I’m just surprised at the number.”
“Do you think these are all of them?”
“No.”
My smile broadens, and I grab a strand of her hair and curl it around my finger.
Smart girl.
“Are you the only one who watches?” she asks.
“No one has access to this room except me,” I reply, taking in the scent of her hair and cherishing the smell of her perfume. “So yes.” The strand of hair rolls through my fingers until nothing’s left but air filled with friction between us. And fuck me, is it on fire.
“How many times a day do you watch me?” she asks.
“As often as I can,” I reply, and her face only turns more into the shade of a strawberry. It matches her dress nicely.
A hint of a smile tips up her lips. “Does it turn you on to watch me?”
“Oh, yes.” Just the thought gets me riled up.
She grips the desk tight, her fingers digging into the wood as she bites her lip. I can tell she’s waiting for me to do something, to take her right here and now … but should I? She smells like tequila, and I bet she drank too much of it, considering her flushed cheeks. But she’s literally standing here with her legs opened wide, her ass leaning on my desk, chest out and nipples peaked as if she means to lure me.
With an index finger, I tip up her chin. “Are you afraid of me? Tell me the truth.”
Her teeth barely separate as she says, “No.” The word comes out strong and powerful, spoken like a true queen. But can I take her seriously? Or is she playing mind games with me?
One second, she didn’t want anything to do with me, and the next, she’s here, flaunting her body. She can’t seem to make up her damn mind.
But that’s just it. I wanted her in that position where she’d question her own morality, her needs, and her desires. I want her to want me, and now she finally does.
I can’t fucking say no, so I grab her face and kiss her hard. Her mouth latches onto mine as we tug and fight while kissing, her tongue rolling around mine, trying to take control. I can taste the liquor on her tongue, but it adds a nice edge to our kiss. And fuck me, does she taste delicious.
I want more. No, I need more.
My hands wrap around her ass and lift her onto the desk while I kiss her as if my life depends on it. I don’t intend to stop. She’s far too delectable to ever let go, and she knows this. It was about time she gave in.
Suddenly, she unlocks her mouth from mine, and whispers, “Wait.”
“No,” I say, kissing her again, but she shoves me back.
“We can’t do this,” she says.
“Why?” I frown.
“Because it’s fucking wrong, and you know it,” she replies. “I’m drunk.”
Her lips are swollen and completely wet when she says this, but I don’t for one second believe she doesn’t want this. Her sultry eyes give her away.
“Do I look like a man who cares?” I growl, and I plant my lips back on hers, not giving a shit what she or anyone else thinks of it.
She may be fucking delirious from the alcohol, but I don’t fucking care. She tempted me, seduced me like the little vixen she is, and now she’ll pay the price.
“You want this, Charlotte … admit it,” I murmur between kisses, and my tongue dips out to lick the roof of her mouth. I can’t stop kissing her; her lips are driving me nuts. She’s everything I ever imagined, everything I ever wanted, and I’m not letting her out of this room until I’ve had my way with her.
My lips are everywhere; on her lips, her chin, her neck, her collarbones, and even the top of her breasts. After one brief second to breathe, she whispers, “I hate you.”
“Hate me, love me, I don’t care … but I will have you,” I growl back, and I tear her dress, ripping apart the strings tied behind her neck. She yelps, but I cover her mouth with mine before she alerts the staff.
“Shhh …” I murmur, narrowing my eyes. “Keep quiet or else …”
“Or else what?” she mutters, her eyes widening.
“I’ll tie you up and put a ball gag in your mouth.”
“Oh, my God,” she mutters.
I push her back down onto the desk, and say, “Now spread your legs like you did before.”
With a face as cold as ice, she does what I ask, just like before, but this time, she kicks off her shoes too.
A smile spreads on my lips. “Expecting something?”
“You and I both know I won’t get out of here before you’ve had your fix,” she muses.
Touché. How does she know me so well? I’ve barely shown myself to her, yet she can read me like a book. Such a fucking smartass. That might come back to bite me in the ass later.
But first, I wanna fucking bite hers.
