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His eyebrow ticked up in question, but he didn’t push the subject. I wished he had pushed instead of asking his next question.

I watched his lips part, the tip of his tongue peeking out to trace along his bottom lip. “What if your husband wanted to undress his wife on their first night together?” he asked cruelly, ending the moment of comradery. His tone kicked on my fight-or-flight response. Fucked up part? I wanted either of those responses to end with me writhing below him.

“Just because you announce I’m your wife, Callahan, doesn’t mean I’m actually married to you,” I threw back, crossing my arms over my chest in indignation.

I was so locked into our stare-off that I barely noticed Kenji’s laugh as he left the bathroom, mumbling about how we were the same damn person.

My blood chilled when Caleb pulled his eyes from my chest. He looked so smug that my knees wanted to buckle. I had a suspicion of what he’d say before he opened his beautifully arrogant mouth.

“You don’t think I’d have someone submit that paperwork right away?” Fabric rubbed against my skin as he stepped into my space, leaning forward to speak into my ear. His hand slithered around my waist, pulling my chest to his.

“Mrs. Callahan, you were mine the moment I saw you again. And I made sure it was official minutes after I announced it to that room.” He pulled my lobe into his warm mouth, biting down so it was just short of being painful.

A moan tumbled out before I could catch it, my pussy aching to clench on something more than emptiness.

“And don’t ever fucking pull a knife on me again unless you plan on using it, wife,” he snarled.

Cold metal burned my hip as he cut both sides of my underwear, letting them join my dress on the floor. Time slowed as he reached down and picked up the scrap of fabric. The corners of his mouth pulled up into a sinister smile as he rubbed a thumb across my arousal.

Everything in me locked up, my body throbbing with lust, and I cursed him in my head as he brought the soaked crotch up to his nose, inhaling deeply. My heartbeat went wild, bordering on out of control as the pad of his tongue ran along the full length of my underwear. His eyes fluttered close in ecstasy. His dick twitched in his pants.

It was so wrong, but so fucking erotic.

Fuck. What would he look like when he climaxed?

“You taste fucking delicious.” His eyes turned hard, cruel. And my body went rigid. “Here, have a taste.” His fingers knotted in my hair, yanking my head back. The other pried my mouth open and shoved the thong inside.

“Get fucking clean and then get some sleep. We’ve got shit to do,” Caleb said, shoving me away as if my body burned him. He grabbed his glass before heading out the bathroom door.

I spit out the fabric, the heat of my anger clawing at my skin. “So we aren’t consummating the marriage, then?” I called after him.

Why the fuck had I asked that question?

Did I actually want to have sex with the asshole who’d forced me into marriage? And that wasn’t even touching on the other shit, like his infatuation with my throat. He seemed to like to either hold a knife to it or a hand around it.

I bet he’d like his cock shoved down it too.

Caleb paused at the question, his body tensing. When he spoke, his tone was so cold it felt like the temperature had dropped in the room.

“I might’ve had to marry you, but I don’t fuck Romano scum. No matter how sinful you taste. Your family is fuckin’ tainted.”

I flinched at his words. My feelings were rarely hurt, yet for some unexplainable reason, Caleb managed to chip at my armor. He turned around to face me fully.

“If I want to fuck, I’ll find other pussy,” he spat.

Insanity. That was the only explanation for what happened next. Because I sure as fuck had no reason to act like a jealous wife to a man I didn’t fucking know and shouldn’t fucking want.

Like a viper, I whipped my hand out and grabbed Caleb’s cock through his dress pants, resisting the desire to tug it free and stroke him. He groaned as I squeezed the delicate package. Delicate and large package.

White hot rage had replaced the pity party from seconds before. “You may not want to fuck me, husband, but if you stick your dick in another bitch, I’ll cut the fuckin’ thing off. Which would be a shame because it feels like it’s a nice mouthful.” I stepped in closer. “You may like sharing, but I won’t fucking share you,” I snarled, releasing his dick and walking into the shower before he retaliated.

I watched him from under the spray of water. His chest heaved while he balled his fists, his knuckles white. I could practically hear him thinking. He didn’t know what to do with me.

Men rarely did.

Without a word, he turned on a heel and stormed out.

“Hope you’re good at making yourself come with your hand,” I shouted after him, grabbing the massaging showerhead and laughing at the sound of my door slamming closed.