Page 15 of In Their Hands


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He slapped my sex, awakening a stinging burn on my tender flesh. I gasped and went utterly still, mind blanking with shock at the casual way he was handling my most intimate areas.

“You will behave tonight. I won’t have my wife glowering at me in front of our guests.”

He started rubbing my clit again, reaching beneath my underwear this time. It tingled after the sharp slap, and sparks danced through my core as he firmly stimulated the pleasure point. I squirmed to get away from the mortifying sensation, and he pressed down harder on the small of my back.

I was totally helpless in his domineering hands; there was nothing I could do to stop him from touching me however he wished. A shudder rolled through me, a wave of bliss rippling out from my clit to flood my body with tingling warmth.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I hate you,” I whispered, loathing him with every fiber of my being.

“That’s your choice,” he growled, rubbing me in a demanding rhythm that sent pleasure zinging up my spine to flood my mind, overwhelming me. “Be good, and I’ll reward you later.”

His fingertips swirled in the wetness between my lower lips, and then he withdrew his cruelly erotic touch entirely.A strangled sound caught in my throat at the sudden loss of sensation, and he released a satisfied hum.

I shoved up off the mattress, finally freed from his restraining hand. I whirled to face him, unable to compose myself and hide my glare. Hatred was a toxic heat that churned in the pit of my stomach.

He met me with a steady stare and lifted his fingers to his mouth. They were wet with my arousal, and he lewdly licked it off like he was sampling his favorite candy.

My body was incandescent with embarrassment, and I tore my gaze from his. I took in a deep, fortifying breath and drew upon all my willpower. Somehow, I managed to school my features into a composed mask, crushing all my volatile emotions into a tight ball and shoving them deep inside my chest.

I straightened my dress with as much dignity as I could muster, then breezed past my cruel husband, making my way toward the bedroom door.

“Our guests are waiting,” I told him coolly, not glancing back to acknowledge him or the filthy thing he’d just done.

I would behave myself. Not for some perversereward, but to ensure that he had no reason to humiliate me like that ever again.

Chapter 6

Luca

My bride was truly lovely: supple and graceful in my arms as I guided her around the center of the ballroom for our first dance as man and wife. The warm lighting picked out the golden threads in her chocolate brown hair, making her shine like an ethereal creature, breathtaking and mysterious.

I couldn’t make sense of my new wife. She was so responsive in my hands, but she didn’t want the pleasure I offered her. I could be demanding, and I understood that some women didn’t take kindly to being ordered around. It posed a challenge, and the most savage parts of me liked that about her: she would be difficult to tame, and her surrender would be all the more satisfying.

But there was no trace of submission in her demeanor now. There was no trace of any particular emotion. She simply looked the part of a docile young bride, a soft smile curving her lush lips. It didn’t touch her eyes. I’d seen her melt beneath me, and the woman in my arms wasn’t the same one who’d screamed in pleasure last night. Her heart was shuttered, her composed mask concealing all emotion.

I didn’t like it. As much as I wanted her obedience, I preferred when the harpy was sniping at me, not this pretty doll in my arms.

I hate you.The memory of her venomous words poisoned my thoughts, and I frowned down at her.

The sign of my displeasure had no effect; not a single muscle on her serene face so much as twitched. It was unnerving. Disturbing. It was like she wasn’t even here with me.

I firmed my arm around her waist, and she swayed toward me without hesitation, allowing me to lead our dance. There wasn’t so much as a flicker of heat in her eyes, and not even a spark of lust passed between us. So different from our combustible chemistry in our bed last night.

My frown deepened.

I’d told her that her own happiness was her choice, but I found that I didn’t want her to hate me. I didn’t want to share a life with a woman who loathed me. She’d been enraged by my insistence that she accept the birth control shot, but I’d only been protecting our family.

I hardened my resolve. I would do what was necessary to keep her safe, whether she liked it or not.

We’d only been married for a day. She would soften with time, especially if I continued to flood her body with ecstasy every night. We would never love one another—that was an impossibility—but I would make her happy.

In that moment, I decided that I wouldn’t give her choice, after all. My new challenge, my new purpose in life, was to make my wife blissfully content to be mine. I would have everything I wanted: my birthright and a family. She would give me an heir.

Of course I’ll love my child, even if his father is a monster.

I struggled to keep the scowl from my face. Yes, I could be monstrous with my enemies, but never with her. I wouldn’t repeat my father’s sins.

The song changed, and other guests drifted onto the dancefloor to join us. We’d performed our part. It was time for me to do the far more important work of securing my birthright. I would have to talk to Nora’s father and pretend that I didn’t want to kill the traitorous bastard.

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