Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I punch him in the chest, but it’s like jamming my knuckles into concrete. He only shakes his head, amused at my anger, heading straight up the stairs. I catch sight of a crystal chandelier, hardwood floors, modern furniture, beautiful paintings on the walls, everything lavish and understated in a way that suggests obscene amounts of wealth.
“Sorry I’m not conditioned to flinching every time you get near me. I’ll get there, don’t worry.”
“Oh, wife, I don’t mind if you struggle. The fight’s part of the fun.”
“You do seem like the kind of guy that would fly me out to a private island just to hunt me down like a wild beast.”
“Sounds like a nice vacation,” he muses thoughtfully. “Though I wouldn’t murder you in the end. I’d catch you, fuck you senseless, then release you so we can play all over again.”
I blink at him rapidly as my mouth falls open. “Who even thinks of something like that?”
“I’ve thought of a lot of things when it comes to you,” he murmurs as he kicks open a door, strides across a large master bedroom toward a beautiful canopy bed, and throws me down onto the mattress.
I land with a sharp breath, leaning back on my elbows, staring up at the man that all but forced me to marry him.
Carson’s beautiful. I hate it, but that’s the truth. Chiseled body, intense eyes. He looks at me like he can’t bring himself to look away. Like if he were to blink, I’d disappear forever. I’ve never felt so scrutinized before in my life, never felt so intensely wanted. His gaze isn’t shy, it’s not bashful, he doesn’t try to hide what he’s thinking and what he needs.
I’m his prey.
I’m also his pure desire.
I shuffle back, getting further on the bed. I catch a glimpse of a big, beautiful bathroom. Nightstands, a sitting area, more closet space. Beige carpet, oil paintings on the wall. All screaming luxury and money, but devoid of personality.
He follows, prowling toward me like a panther.
“Carson,” I say, warning. “Stop right now.”
“Stop what? You’re my wife. I think we need to consummate our vows to make it official.”
“This isn’t the fifteenth century, you dweeb, we don’t need to have sex to make our marriage real. Nobody’s going to come check my hymen.”
“Hymens aren’t a good way to prove virginity,” he says, smirking. “Although I’d happily explore yours.”
“You know what I mean.” I make a face. “Please don’t ever talk about exploring my hymen ever again.”
He grabs my ankle. I try to shake him loose, but that only makes him drag me harder until I’m pinned back on the bed. He’s big, heavy, muscular but lean, and his lips hang open. Those perfect lips. I already got a taste for what they’re capable of earlier—and I wouldn’t mind learning more.
But shit, no, get it together, I can’t give in to this guy just because he’s really, really good at getting me off with his tongue.
“I have rules in my house. Rules I want you to obey.” His voice is a low, sensual rumble.
I snort. “Good luck with that.”
“Fighting only makes me enjoy the struggle. You do realize that?”
“Then you have a lot of fun ahead of you.”
His eyes shine with a lightning storm of want. “First rule. You are my wife, and you will sleep in my bed. Do you understand?”
“No thanks. Next.”
“Second rule. You will go nowhere without informing me or one of my men.”
“Even worse. Try again.”
“Third rule. There are no boundaries between us. I will not lie to you, and you will not lie to me.”
I hesitate, frowning. “Okay, I don’t hate that one.”
“Good girl.” He strokes my cheek. I release a pathetic whimper. “The second rule is for your protection. In the future, when your problems are dealt with, we can afford to be less strict. However, for now, you will obey.”
I grind my teeth. I hate giving in to this guy, but he’s got a point. The whole reason I married him was to keep myself safe and, by extension, to protect all my friends. I’d be pretty stupid to suddenly start acting against my own best interests, even if it does piss me off.
“Fine,” I say, glaring. “And the first rule? Is that to make sure no sneaky assassins break past your metal jail bars?”
“No, angel, that first rule is purely for my own pleasure. I suspect I’ll sleep better with you by my side, and I haven’t slept well in a very, very long time.”
I stare into his eyes, not sure how I feel about that. It’s strangely vulnerable, which only makes me want to ask him more questions. Except I’m actively trying not to humanize him.
“How about I sleep in the bed and you sleep on one of your many couches?” I look past him toward the sitting area. “You can pick whichever you want. I’m very generous like that.”