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“Just like there’ll be nothing between my cock and your cunt when I’m fucking you, there’ll be nothing blocking my view of you when you fucking take a shower.”
He grabbed the towel from her hand and flung it across the bathroom and strode away before he did what he wanted to do to her again.
“I hate you, you bastard,” she cried softly.
He whipped around and threaded his hand through her silky soft hair. He pulled to tilt her face up toward him.
“You want to say that again so you can watch me hammer my cock into your pussy and show you who owns you? Do you think I care that you were a virgin and I was too big for you and that you’re going to be sore for days? Do you think I care that your blood is still mixed with my cum? Go ahead. Repeat what you said.”
His lips brushed over hers.
The softness of her mouth capitulated him to another dimension so far away from his reality, that only the two of them existed. He wanted to kiss her. Not roughly. Not hard and brutally. He wanted to taste her slowly and savor her. But his reality didn’t give him such a reprieve.
She still wanted Ariti.
“You will never touch me again,” she said as if she meant it.
“You’re my wife. I’ll do whatever I want to you.”
He released her. The sound of the shower being turned on settled around the apartment. He turned around, his gaze tracing the outline of her body until the steam made her silhouette fade from his sight.
Ariti had to die.
Chapter Fourteen
Vivian had spent her day vacillating between crying, being ultra angry then reliving the feeling of Elliot moving inside her and hating him because he changed her.
He showed her things her body was capable of doing. Like exploding under his touch, no matter how cruel he had been, to orgasms that had shattered her entire existence.
He had made her shower without a partition because he was a bully of the highest order. Was she going to take it as if she were a doormat? No. He could go to hell.
She wasn’t a doormat. And when she said he was never going to touch her again, she meant it.
It didn’t bode well for her state of mind though that she had no plan. She was stuck. Imprisoned and helpless.
She had to do something.
When Owen’s voice came onto the intercom, she was startled a bit.
“Mrs. Knight? I have Mrs. Knight on line two. Just press the button on the intercom and you’ll be connected.”
“Thank you, Owen,” she said. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to have a phone so yay for her she had to use the intercom to receive calls.
“Hey, Mrs. Knight,” Everleigh’s cheerful voice sounded over the device.
“Everleigh,” Vivian said, so happy to hear a safe familiar voice. “How are you?”
“I am getting better with every minute that passes and this little bundle in my belly is doing the same.”
Vivian smiled broadly. She couldn’t be happier for Everleigh and was taken aback again at how quickly she had formed such a deep affectionate bond with the other two Knight brides, not that she was one herself in the true sense of the word.
“ I’ve been out of commission for so long, so I decided to throw a dinner party. I’m so excited to be doing something other than being in bed and recovering. It’ll be just the six of us at my house, the three Knight men and their wives and you all can drink champagne—”
“Did Elliot say he was going?”
“Of course. I already called him. I thought he was with you so I could speak to both of you.”
“And he’s taking me with him?”
