I used to dream of this day long ago.
Now all I can think of is all the ways I’ll make her beg.
The air is thick with tension as I inch closer and drape my arm over her shoulder, but she swiftly moves aside and swats my hand off. My nostrils flare from the blatant show of disobedience.
I grab her chin and make her look at me. “Stop resisting. It’s already too late for that.”
“Just because you married me doesn’t make me yours,” she says with a look of disdain in her eyes.
And it makes me want to grab her and pin her down right here in this goddamn car. But I don’t like people snooping in my business, and the driver is watching us from his rearview mirror.
So I release her again and look the other way.
She’ll come to her senses sooner rather than later.
“You wouldn’t even let me say goodbye,” she says after a while.
I look at her as the light cascading into the window hits her bare neckline, making me all the more aware of the fact that I’ve wanted nothing more than to ravage her since the second I saw her.
But she doesn’t want me in that way.
Fuck.
After all these years, nothing has changed about my desire to own her.
And she … she hasn’t changed a bit, with those rose-colored cheeks, those full, heart-shaped lips, and that shoulder-length blond bob and bangs. Still the same pretty little bunny hopping right back into my fucked-up life.
But some part of her is different. Distant. Bitter.
Like she’s lost her will to care.
As the teardrops roll down her cheeks, I slide aside her hair. I never thought I’d care, but it stirs something inside me that I can’t ignore.
Is she crying because of what I’ve done to her? Because I stole her freedom? Or because I never allowed her to say goodbye?
My hand balls into a fist, my nails digging into my palm. I shouldn’t feel guilty. She deserves this. She deserves every ounce of pain, every ounce of misery, and every ounce of guilt she feels.
So then why am I the one with the stinging heart?
Suddenly, she turns her face to me, her wide, innocent-looking eyes boring into my soul as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Fuck.
I retract my hand and look out the window.
“Maybe I’ll let you see her again,” I say through gritted teeth.
Her breathing grows more rapid. I can hear it. “I don’t believe you. You’re still a vicious monster. You haven’t changed one bit. You’re just like you were when we were kids.”
Rage becomes me, but I swallow all the anger and hatred back down.
“Yet I still made you my wife.” A proud smile tugs at my lips, but it’s only brief.
“Made. Exactly. But I didn’t choose you,” she retorts.
I stare her down so hard she retreats farther into the corner of the car. “You chose to come to the church and save your sister. You chose to take her place and marry me.”
“What other choice did I have?” she replies, tilting her head. “I would never, ever let you put your depraved hands on her.”
I snort. “Depraved?” I grab her throat. “You haven’t even seen the worst yet.”
My fingers squeeze, and she sucks in a breath, but it hitches halfway down. “You only prove my point.”
“You think it hurts to hear you say that? Wrong. I know what I am and what I like.” I shove her back in her seat. “It’s about fucking time you learned too.”
After she’s regained her composure, she says, “Learned what? I’m not the one forcing marriage onto girls just because of a vendetta.”
I grab her wrist and push her against the window, leaning in so close I can smell her fear. “What you and I have goes far beyond a vendetta, Jill. Or did you forget that night I came into your room?”
Her cheeks flush, and I know she remembers how I touched her … how I made her yield to the feel of my fingers on her little clit. How she mewled with delight from the handle of my knife shoved up her goddamn pussy.
An hour before Liam’s death
The second I found out my brother was supposed to marry Jill, I jumped out of my window and went straight to her home.
I couldn’t stop myself.
Couldn’t fight the urge to climb up her house and enter her room, soaking wet from the storm.
All I wanted was …
Her.
Pinned to the wall, breathing raggedly mere inches away from me.
Right. Fucking. Now.
And I still can’t fucking stop myself from claiming her.
From wanting to make her bleed with this fucking knife in my hand.
From toying with her pussy until she falls apart in front of me.
“So tight … so perfect,” I murmur as my fingers slip in and out of her. She’s moaning and bucking against my hand. “So desperate for me.”
“Don’t,” she murmurs.
Leaning into her, I whisper into her ear, “Say it like you mean it.” I smile. “You can’t, can you?”
I grow stiff against her body as I slowly lower my knife down her neck. I move it across the towel and slide underneath, tracing her slit with the tip.
“Are you scared of me, little bunny?” I ask.
She shakes her head, but I don’t believe her, and the mere thought of her fearing me is such a fucking turn-on.
I twist the knife around so the dull end is facing her pussy. “I might be vicious, but I’m not cruel.”
Then I thrust the handle of the knife inside.
Present
I lean in to whisper into her ear, “Remember how hard you moaned when I made you come?”
The memory alone makes my cock hard as a rock.
“Stop,” she hisses, and she jerks her hand away. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to forget that night ever happened.”
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hurt. “Keep telling yourself that.” I sit up straight again and roll my eyes.
Her cheeks only flush more. “You used me. Just because you wanted me does not mean I wanted you.”
“Your pussy told another story,” I retort, throwing her a simple glance that makes her eyes widen.
I love getting her all worked up. What can I say? I’m fucked up in the head but mostly fucked up because of my addiction to her.
“I was young and dumb,” she spits back, turning her head so she doesn’t have to look at me and get all flustered from the memories.
But looking away won’t make her forget about me. And I won’t fucking let her.
“So why did you want to marry me again? Or is all of this just out of spite, to taunt me because you hate me so much for denying you?”
“It’s more than that, and you know it,” I reply, licking my lips at the thought of finally having my way with her and making her mine.
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “As if you didn’t hate his guts and weren’t happy to take his place.”
Sudden rage overcomes me, and I grab her cheeks and force her to look at me. “Do not talk about my brother like that.”
“Why? Am I getting too close to the truth?” She gazes up at me with a courageous look in her eyes.
It’s about time I snuffed out some of that resistance.
My brother meant everything to this family and to our business. He was all the things I could never be. And I fucking knew this long ago.
He’d be the one to rule, and I was the one who was going to go rogue. But his death made me the only successor, and I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity go to waste.
I lean into her as she looks out the window, determined of her win, and whisper, “You’ll regret everything you said soon enough.”
Just as her eyes turn to meet mine, the car stops. We’ve finally arrived at the building that leads up to the luxurious penthouse I call my home. The driver steps out, all while my eyes remain hooked onto hers, neither of us daring to look away. Not even as the driver opens my door and then hers.
When she attempts to climb out, I grasp her wrist. “No games. You run … you lose.”
“I already lost the second I said ‘yes’ to you,” she seethes, jerking her wrist free. “Now, are you going to let me go up, or do you want to carry me there?”
I can’t fucking wait to bury myself in that sassy mouth of hers.
Clearing my throat, I adjust my blazer before I step out of the car and shut the door behind me. Jill stands in front of the building, looking up in awe at its magnitude. I doubt her father ever owned such a prestigious place. I know they did well with all the deals with the Americans, but it’s my family’s connections that drive the business here in the Netherlands. Which makes us an invaluable partner to them. One they can’t afford to lose. And they’ll do anything, and I mean anything, to keep our relations … civil.
Lucky fucking me.
I walk over to her. “Impressive, isn’t it?” I hold out my hand.
She looks at it like it’s dirty. “Now you want to pretend to be all chivalrous?”
“I’m not pretending. I’m showing you my best side,” I say. “But don’t get used to it.”
The annoyed look on her face is priceless.
I lead her up the staircase and open the door for her. “After you.”
She rolls her eyes as if she doesn’t know whether to hate me or hate herself for thinking I might be kinder than she thought.
Well, that kindness will end the second she’s inside my home.
If only she knew all the wicked, dirty things I had in mind since the second she crashed the wedding.
“Good morning, sir,” the receptionist says. “I hope your wedding went well.”
“It was perfect, thank you,” I respond.
“Not the woman I presumed you would come home with,” she adds.
“No, I’m her sister,” Jill sneers. “I hate his guts and only married him to save her.”
The receptionist laughs. “Sounds like you’ll have your hands full with this one, sir.”
“Oh, yes … I definitely will,” I reply, pushing Jill toward the elevator.
She looks wholly confused as we step inside. “Why doesn’t she care?”
Grabbing her arms, I pull her close right before the doors shut. “Jill, do you think I wouldn’t take precautions?” I lift her chin with my index finger. “I own everyone who works here.”
She swallows, visibly shaken by the power I hold.
“And now, I own you.”
I lean in and attempt to kiss her again, but she turns her head, denying me.
So I grab her waist and shove her against the elevator wall, not allowing her a second to breathe as I invade her space, planting my hand against the wall right beside her head. “Deny me, fight me, I don’t care, but I will have what I want.”
There’s disdain in her eyes, the kind that fills me with seething hatred. Not for her but for myself. Because a part of me, a long time ago, wanted so desperately for her to desire me.
But I no longer need that anymore. “Submit to me, and maybe I won’t destroy you.”
She looks up at me from underneath her lashes. “I will never bow down to you.”
A vicious smile spreads on my face. “You seem to be under the impression you have a choice.” I plant another hand against the wall behind her. “My ring is on your finger. You are my wife, Jill, from now until the day we die. And do you know what comes with that?” I push her chin up again to meet my gaze. “Marital duties.”
Her eyes widen.
The doors open.
And in a split second, she decides to make a run for it.
I don’t know where she got the idea she could escape.
But if she wants a chase so badly … she can have one.
