I am...not alone. I should know by now that a lock means nothing to this man. The reflection in the mirror shows him standing behind me, face guarded. We stand there, gazes ensnared as the garden tub noisily fills in the background.
“Rosanna.”
My heart thumps wildly at his deep rumbling of my name. I watch in the mirror as he steps closer. Close enough to take the bath salts from me. Pivoting to sit on the lip of the tub, he adjusts the temperature to make it a little warmer and then dumps a handful of the pink crystals to dissolve in the water, sending the aroma of peony and rose to mix with the humidity of the room.
What does he think he’s doing?
The mirror warns me of his intentions a split second before I feel the heat of his hands singeing my waist through my shirt. A stuttering breath puffs from my mouth as an unwanted wave of desire washes over me. I...I can’t help it. Just because I’m mad at the man doesn’t mean I can’t want him.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as he expertly lifts my shirt up and over my head. My shaky breathing reveals how affected I am, more effectively than words ever could, but I let him undress me and pull my hair up into a sloppy bun. Watch as he undresses himself. Let him help me into the tub, and even reluctantly relax back against him as he eases into the water behind me.
For a few moments, the silence is peaceful—a hot bath does wonders for a weary soul—but then the silence ends.
“Enough of this, kitten.” Connor’s voice reverberates throughout my back and chest. My body gets squished between his strong arms as he reaches around me for the soap. “You wanted to punish me, and I don’t think you could have come up with a better method. But this needs to stop.”
A surge of rebellion streaks through me. Now I’m determined to drag it out even though my heart is begging me to take the olive branch he’s offering.
He pauses for a moment, but when my silence answers for me, he begins tenderly washing me, starting at my fingertips. Up a forearm, around an elbow. Higher still over my collarbone.
His wet hand tilts my head to the side, then massages away all the tension from my exposed shoulder. The other side gets the same treatment with the addition of small, warm kisses on any inch of bare skin his mouth can reach. Against my will, a ball of heat simmers low in my stomach.
“Rosanna.” My name is a mere whisper of breath from his lips into my hair. “You can’t ignore me forever. I won’t let you.” Stubbornly, I hug my arms to myself and grit my teeth to keep all my words in. “All right, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
What? My heated blood chills for a moment. What is he going to do? If he basically sexually tortured me into agreeing to marrying him—damn. Ididagree voluntarily to do that, didn’t I? He didn’t coerce me.
Much.
An unladylike squawk leaves me as he hooks his legs under mine and lifts them out of the water. Droplets splatter on the floor, I’m sure, as our wet feet hang over each side of the tub. What is he..?
Then I feel it. Pressure from the inset jets that set the water to bubbling. Oh, no. Surely, he’s not going to...
He does. One strong arm anchors me firmly as the other lowers to allow his fingers access to my pussy. He wastes no time in spreading me open and shifting his hips to angle me into the path of a jet stream. Fuck! I bite my lips to hold back a whimper at the sensation, hips involuntarily jolting backwards and into his thickening cock.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he says smoothly, forcing me forward once more. “There’s no hiding from this anymore. From us.”
My hands stretch behind me, searching for something to hold, and land in his hair. The hair he grew out just for me. I curl my fingers, tangling them in the soft strands. Words bubble out of my stomach and ram against the barrier of my lips, demanding to be let out.More. Please.
“That’s my good fucking girl.” He drags his teeth along my neck, fingers splaying my folds so the water pressure targets my clit. “Let it feel good. Let go.”
Oh, God. It’s been so long. So...long...
I can’t hold out. Not with his kisses to my neck that cut through my defenses. And especially not when his fingers inch up and pluck at one achy nipple, then the other. Fire streaks from my breasts to my clit, scorching me from the inside out, and I dig into his scalp with my nails.
“Fuck, yeah. There you go, kitten. Breathe, now. Don’t hold your breath.” His own fans hotly into my ear. “Fall apart in my arms and know that I’ve got you.”
He’s got me. My legs are held open by his. His hand cups my pussy. His arm holds me captive. He won’t let me go.
Emotionally, mentally, physically...it’s too much. A sharp cry breaks through my clenched teeth in tandem with the orgasm that rips through my core.
Harsh pleasure. That’s what this orgasm is. Pleasure that hurts just as much as it feels good. Eyes shut, I tremble and shake with the intensity of it, but Connor holds me tighter, forcing me to ride it out even longer.
“Fuck!” The curse slips out before I can stop it. “Connor...”
His cock kicks against my ass at the sound of his name. “Right here, kitten. Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you. Fucking need you, Rosanna.”
Oh, no. That isnothappening. Men who take their supposed love interests captive don’t get that privilege, no matter what romance books say. This is real life.
“No,” I hiss, twisting around and sending a surge of water onto the floor. A grunt of surprise leaves his sexy throat when my hands find his cock already hard with the head peeking through the foreskin. “This is all you get. You can’t have me.” Giving in to my anger, I strangle his hardness with my hands, going up and down in furious motions.
