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We round the top of the stairs and his hand leaves me, wrapping around my shoulder, and turning me to the left. Passing a dozen closed doors on either side of the hall, we finally stop in front of the last one, and he removes himself from me entirely.
“This is… our room,” he says, pushing the door open with a sweep of his hand.
“Ours?”
Unlike the rest of the house, the master looks distinctly Kallum—still no personal effects in sight, all-black furniture strategically placed in different spots around the room, and long drapes above the windows blocking out any chance of the sun poking through.
“Yes. Did you think I’d make up a room special for you?”
Shrugging, I press my palms into my thighs, rolling back on my heels. “I don’t know how fake marriages work. I guess I just assumed our living arrangements would be separate.”
The creases around his eyes deepen, a glare rippling between his brows. He takes a step forward, a harsh glint liquefying his irises, and I move back until my ass hits a dresser, trapping me in place.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve suggested our union is less than legitimate,” he grumbles, stopping when the toes of our shoes touch, keeping his body a hair’s distance away from mine. “What the fuck do you think is going on here?”
I swallow, my nostrils flaring as I choke on the way his scent envelops me. “I don’t know. You haven’t told me anything.”
“Let’s get one thing straight, little one.” His hand grabs my ass, squeezing harshly before sliding up my side and around to my neck. Wrapping his fingers in a collar around my throat, he presses in at the sides, expelling the air from my lungs as he leans in and drags his nose along mine. “We’re married. Husband and wife before the good Lord himself. It’s as legitimate as yours to Mateo would have been, except maybe even more so since we know each other so intimately.”
Rising up on my tiptoes, I try to gain purchase and relief as the lack of oxygen burns the back of my throat. Desire stirs low in my belly at the rough feel of his hands on me, and even though fear is a close accompaniment, that’s what I find myself focusing on.
“Do you remember how I felt inside you?” Kal asks, shifting so he can push my jaw up and capture it between his teeth. Biting down, he latches onto my skin, the flash of pain sending a jolt of red-hot lust down my spine. “The way I split you apart with my cock and made you beg me to hurt you?”
Releasing my jaw, he skims down the slope of my neck, sinking his teeth into the base. I draw in a sharp gasp, a burst of red clouding my vision as my flesh breaks for him.
“Do you?” I grit out, rotating my hips in a slow grind against him, goose bumps popping up along my arms as I become acutely aware of his arousal.
“It’s the subject of my every goddamn nightmare,” he hisses, shoving his erection into my stomach, swirling his tongue over the sensitive spot he’s just made on my neck.
His free hand finds my left breast, plucking at the nipple with ghostlike strokes, making my back arch as pleasure courses through my veins.
“Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Spread out and bleeding beneath me, your sweet little pussy weeping, just waiting to get fucked.” He pinches my nipple, grunting when I let out a soft moan.
I stare at the recess lights in the tray ceiling, trying to ground myself as they distort my sight, but Kal’s touch demands my attention.
Straightening, he abandons my breast to trail his fingers over the bite mark on my neck, a heavy look of satisfaction hooding his gaze.
“Would that prove to you that this marriage is real?” he asks, his thumb smoothing back and forth over my mangled flesh. “If I took you again? Was the first taste of ruin not enough for you? Do you still crave my darkness, little one?”
Lust clogs my throat even as he releases me, moving backward. My hand comes up, rubbing over the now raw area, and he just chuckles to himself, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
Shame scalds my cheeks, both at the fact that I’m little more than putty to this man and that he seems to know it, too.
Whatever resistance I might have thought myself capable of when it comes to my new husband disappears the second he touches me, and it causes a cramp to flare up in my stomach like a bad omen, warning me of what’s to come.
Clearing his throat, he moves back through the doorway, gripping the knob with the same fingers that just held my windpipe beneath them.
“Supper is at eight. I’ll have Marcelline bring you a new phone, and you’re free to explore the property.” He hesitates for the briefest moment, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
If he wants me as badly as I want him, or if this is all a game to him. A means to an end, just like I was to Mateo.
I know he’s said he was blackmailed into the marriage, same as me, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else going on, either.
My gaze flickers to the large windows across the room, sizing up the likelihood of them being accessible. I wonder how far of a fall it is from this floor, if I could make it out of this marriage before it destroys me.
Mamá’s voice rings in my ears, screaming at me to get out while I can. Her shoving things into my suitcases, trying to push me over my balcony herself when she learned who I’d married instead of Mateo.
I knew then that there simply wasn’t time, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Didn’t stop her from planting the idea in my head.
“If you run,” Kal says, somehow reading my thoughts, a cold note to his tone that contrasts deeply with the man who just had his hands all over me, “I will find you. And you will regret it.”
With that, he pulls the door shut, leaving me to sag against the dresser and collect myself in this strange, new place.
