I touched my abs before jerking my hand away again, returning to glaring at him. I turned my back to him and grabbed the silver handle on the glass shower door, pulling it open and stepping inside, aware of his deep stare that tracked my every movement. It felt like something out of porn... or maybe a horror movie. He was a monster, after all, and he could turn into a demon at any point.
“Tell me about yourself, Noah,” he said as I switched the lever to start water from the showerhead that came out of the ceiling. A warm stream rained down on me gently, splashing over my shoulders and the length of my body.
“What do you want to know and why do you want to know it? You said it yourself, you want my dad’s business, not me.” I kept my back to him, too embarrassed to look at his face. He was probably already aware of my dick, which was more than half hard now and straining up and asking for attention.
“I’m still marrying you,” he said, huskiness filling his voice as I grabbed a loofah and poured shower gel onto it. “What do you enjoy doing when you’re not drawing, or whatever it is you do at your art school?”
I stared at the stone bricks and noted how some stuck out more than others; the design was rough, but also exquisite, too. Someone had a good eye for detail. “Just art.”
“Art?” he repeated in a way that had me finally turning toward him. He hadn’t moved, but there was curiosity in his eyes and it made me feel more confident.
“I am studying art at college. I don’t want to do business. I paint in my spare time.” I ran the loofah down my chest, keeping eye contact with him as it went lower and lower. “I’m an artist.”
His gaze followed the movement of the loofah and stayed on it as I ran it down my thickening dick and under my balls. I washed myself as though I was alone and didn’t have myfiancéI’d only met today watching.
“Have you been to the gallery in the city? What’s it called? Oh, right. St. Laurence’s Gallery of Art.” It was a wonder he kept his voice so even, but other than it deepening, he was calm. I hated him for it.
“I haven’t,” I whispered, my breath catching. “Only certain people are allowed in the gallery, and Dad never helped me get in. They want purchasers, not gawkers.”
He smirked. “I’ll take you after we get married.”
“Yeah?” I swallowed around the lump of excitement that formed in my throat. “My favorite artist hangs his work there. His name is Truth Duke.”
He blinked at me and laughed. “I feel like something needs to be said about that name.”
I shrugged and slid the loofah over my abs again. “It’s probably made up to keep the fans from stalking him.”
He nodded. “Then I promise you I’ll take you there to see it.”
Suspicion rose inside me and I narrowed my eyes on him. Steam was starting to fog up the glass and I swiped my hand over it so I could see him properly. “What do you want in return?”
The smirk warned me I probably didn’t want to know. “You’ll see.”
“I don’t trust you,” I said truthfully.
He threw his head back and laughed, slapping his chest as though it was hard to breathe, and I huffed, glaring at him. “Good choice. I wouldn’t trust me, either.”
He pushed himself up straight and stepped toward me like a predator. He opened the glass door I’d never bothered to shut all the way. I stared long and hard at him as he stepped inside, obviously not caring that his nice shirt and jeans were getting wet from the water that cascaded down on top of us. Then he had me against the shower wall, and I gasped when he grasped my chin in a tight grip.
“You are mine now, Noah. No one will touch you in the next six months but me. No one will ever see you naked but me. No one will feel your lips on them but me. You belong to me as much as this house does.” He tilted my chin up, and I stared at him. His shirt was drenched, sticking to his skin, and it was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen. He slammed his lips over mine, and I slapped my hands against his chest, shoving at him to no avail. He claimed my mouth, and all I could do was let him take what he wanted. WhatIreluctantly wanted.Fuck.
By the time he was done I was weak in the knees and leaning against the stone wall for support. I blinked dazedly at him when he stepped back.
“Tomorrow you’ll marry me, and I’ll fuck you as much as I want for the next six months.”
I whimpered, then flushed at the stupid sound that left my mouth.
He left me there, pressed against the wall with a dick so hard it slapped against my belly. Hatred and need mixed like a hazardous blend of chemicals that was ready to explode.
I was fucked in every way. He truly was a monster and I wanted him more than I should. What did that make me?
I finished in the shower and dried myself off, picking my way around the rubble from the door to walk timidly out into the bedroom. He wasn’t in the room, and I snuck over to my closet to grab a pair of boxers and a shirt, which I tugged on as fast as I could. After I’d snuggled under the blankets, he came back and took a shower. I waited, breath caught in my throat, until he came out naked as the day he was born, with not an ounce of embarrassment. He had nothing to be ashamed about, and it was hard to keep my eyes off his muscular ass as he turned to close the bathroom door, then chuckled at the damage when it drifted open again.
He switched off the light and headed to the bed, and I screwed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. A laugh from him told me I wasn’t doing a very good job, but obviously he didn’t want anything because he slid under the comforter, still naked, and turned his back to me.
“Good night, little mouse.”
I let out a breath of relief, staring at the line of his back, which I could barely see in the dimness of the room. I hesitated, before I finally whispered, “Good night.”Husband.That’s what he would be tomorrow. Fear twisted at my chest. I had no idea whether this was a good or bad thing, but I was caught now. I was the mouse and he was the trap, and all I had to do was hope he didn’t shoot me like that man had done to himself tonight.
