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I expect an answer, but when he opens his mouth, he changes the topic. “The priest will be here this evening to meet with us. I want us to write our own vows,” he says nonchalantly as he crosses his arms and leans against the wall not far from the door.
He knows what he’s doing. Keeping the escape route blocked. Even if I could get past his looming frame, I have a feeling I wouldn’t get very far. He’ll catch me without putting in any effort.
“You want me to write vows?” Incredulity laces my tone, causing Lycan to chuckle. “I’m not marrying you.” I’m adamant, squaring my shoulders after stepping away from the vanity, leaving my coffee behind. I’m almost certain I’m going to need two hands for this interaction.
“Of course you are,” he says. “It’s in the contract. You have no choice in this, Scarlett.” He straightens, pushing his hands into his pockets, forcing my attention to drop to his crotch, which has my stomach fluttering wildly at the thought of what he’s hiding in there.
Snapping my eyes to his, I shake my head. “No. What you’re suggesting is archaic, just something my parents would do to piss me off. To rule my life as if I were still a child.”
“Oh?” His dark brows arch as he watches me inquisitively. “If you force my hand, Scarlett, I will happily bind you to me and carry you down that fucking aisle.” His tone is a crash of no-nonsense whiplash—commanding and domineering.
“And what? You expect me to wear a pretty white dress as well?” My sneer is evident.
His smirk is unmistakable. “Let me make something clear,” Lycan says, taking two long strides closer to me, eating up the distance before he continues. “You will be Mrs. Shaw by the time this month is over. On your birthday, you will be mine.” And that’s when it hits me — I turn twenty-one in a few weeks, and he wants us to exchange our vows. I never once thought I’d be married so young.
Narrowing my gaze, I tip my head to the side as I watch his reaction to my next question. “What do you want? Why me?”
This time, he moves closer, swallowing the inches that keep us apart, wedging me between his muscled thighs and the furniture. “I want a queen, little red,” he speaks softly, his voice merely a taunting whisper as his breath wafts warmly over me. “I want a woman I can proudly walk beside in public. To watch every man’s eyes on her while they slobber for a chance to take her, but knowing she is mine. In her elegant beauty, she’ll shine amongst the fake, plastic smiles while I introduce her to my world.”
He stays silent for a moment, probably waiting for what he just said to sink in. When he doesn’t continue, I prompt, “What else?”
“I also want that same woman to come home with me every evening and allow me to fuck her until she can’t think straight. I want to wear her out, make her cry and scream, make her come, and then I want her to take my seed. I want her porcelain flesh to be marred by my mark. The bruises I’ll bestow on her skin will be my ownership of her, and when my cock isn’t inside her, she’ll feel the emptiness. The craving to have me will be her addiction, and her heart will be my ultimate prize.”
My heart catapults into my throat at the elicit promise of what he wants and needs from me. And deep down, I wonder if I can give that to him. I’m not some sweet, submissive doll he can dress and play with. Folding my arms in front of me, I meet those deep, jade depths. “You want arm candy and a fuck toy.” I shake my head as realization takes hold of me, and the picture becomes clear.
“If you want to put it so callously.” He shrugs before a small, wolfish grin tilts his perfectly pink mouth. “But…” Lycan reaches for my hair, tangling a lock of my long, red strands around his finger before tugging. The smaller smile from seconds ago turns dangerous as the corners of his mouth tilt upward, and he continues, “I want someone with intelligence who can stand beside me while running my business. A woman with strength and fire.”
My mouth falls open, gaping at his admission. I never expected him to give me so much honesty. “And that’s why you chose me?”
“Oh, little red, no.” He shakes his head. A somewhat hungry stare burns through me as he offers me a slight chuckle. His tongue teases his lower lip before his perfectly pearly whites bite down on the flesh, forcing my eyes to lock on the full, pinkish mouth I’m tempted to taste. “I was given you as a payment. I didn’t know I would want you until the night we met.”
