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“I’m not telling you this to get you to accept me out of fear of the unknown. You need to know what is going on around you. I’m not going to lie to you. I could. It’s one of the things someone like me is best at. Lying and manipulating people is easy for me. It would take less than forty-eight hours for you to be on the plane beside me out of Chicago, thinking it was your idea.”
A frown appears in her forehead, and anger flares through me. She’s too fucking young to have more lines of stress than laugh lines around her sexy mouth. She’s known too much pain for one so young.
“Why would marrying me have been more aggravation than it was worth? What’s different now?” Is she hurt?
Honesty isn’t what I want to go with, but she needs to know. “I am not able to feel things like love, sadness, guilt, among others. It’s something many young women long for. If I can’t give you that, it could become a point of pain for you. The change is as I said, if you’re already going to have to go through a marriage, why shouldn’t I benefit?”
It’s clear she doesn’t like that.
“As far as aggravation, it was the thought as I considered following you home to fuck you in your bed the night we met. If you were any other woman, I would have, despite not doing it in almost a decade. But as the daughter of an associate, marriage would have been the only answer. At the time, I was still resistant to marriage again. So I walked away because it wasn’t in my best interest.”
“Since I’m in your best interest to raise your kids, now you want me?” It’s rare I’m unable to read someone.
“Yes. Despite what people think, I do feel anger. It isn’t often and usually comes from irritation with having to do something I don’t want to. If you understand that, you will understand I’m not some big scary monster. I’m not going to hit you. I don’t drink or do any drugs other than something from time to time for me to sleep or calm down. This marriage will not be one where you are demeaned or abused in any way. I promise you that.”
Her eyes finally meet mine and hold.
“I keep my promises. It’s because of a promise I made to my wife I’m willing to marry again. I promised her the children she wanted would never know the pain she experienced of her parents not caring for her. Not wanting to deal with another person’s emotions is why I didn’t want to get married. You’re going to have questions, ask and I’ll answer them.”
“You have mistresses? More than one?” Fuck. She’s hurt.
This is exactly why I didn’t want a young girl with stars in her eyes. For someone adventurous enough to see sex as something to be done in a fantasy of rape, my thought was she would understand sex is nothing more than an appetite to be fed.
“Yes. I travel often to protect our interests. My wife preferred to keep herself occupied with the children she wanted. All she asked was I not flaunt my other partners. Since sex is nothing more than an appetite to me to be fed, I would never do that. I go, I have sex, then I leave, or she comes and services me then she leaves. I’m not out in a club, picking up a woman.” I explain.
“Why are you being honest with me then telling me you’re not going to give me a choice? Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You’re going to take me whether I want to marry you or not.”
Intelligent. I like it. I also like the way she cut straight to the point. “Because you will come to understand the fear you have of me, is simply the fear of the unknown. I’m less of a threat to you than your almost-rapist, dead boyfriend.”
She flinches when I mention the piece of shit I killed. “I won’t force you.” A blush steals across her round cheeks. “Unless you want me to.”
The blush spreads to the tips of her ears. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry a man who fucked other women because I wasn’t available for a few days.” She says the words forcefully. Is it me she’s trying to convince—or herself?
Fuck only her? Ignore a hunger for a day or two, or hell, even a week at a time, in order to have only her to eat? Eat… I would become a glutton, feasting on her. I give in. Whatever it takes for me to be able to fuck her
“I agree, as long as you don’t use sex as a manipulation tactic. If you say no because you’re trying to get your way or piss me off, I’ll fuck the closest willing pussy. And you’ll be grateful it’s another woman to avoid me taking you against your will. I can’t stand when sex is withheld in a fit of temper,” I warn her.
I can’t place the look shimmering across her face. It isn’t fear or the hurt I thought it might be. Curious. I find the answer in the way her nipples are pressing against the silk of the pale blue dress she’s wearing. My mouth waters at the sign this delectable little treat wants me to fuck her. She doesn’t just want me to fuck her, she wants me to force her to fuck.
I remember the way she babbled about how it was a fantasy that the boyfriend rape her. The fantasy isn’t something I understand, even with her explanation. I don’t have to understand it to take advantage of it.
My cock jumps. I’m up and inches away from her without any plan. All I see is her lips parted with expectation. The same lips that wrapped sweetly around my cock.
In a replay I couldn’t have planned if I wanted to, I swipe my thumb across her bottom lip and pull it back. “Wet again. Is it as wet as your pussy? You don’t want me to fuck anyone else, even when you tell me no. Do you? No. Your pussy is dripping wet for me to take you against your will.”
Her eyes drop from mine. I feel her eyes on my cock. It’s clear how hard she’s made me. Her tongue slips between her lips and darts out against my thumb too damn fast before retreating back into her hot mouth.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? The night your boyfriend decided to make the fantasy a reality—to fuck you while you begged him to stop. If the terms are I can’t fuck anyone else, fine. You are the only woman I fuck. It comes with the warning that I’m taking your pussy whether you give it to me or not. The same way I’m taking you.”
My cock begins leaking at the way she catches her full bottom lip with her teeth. Trailing my thumb from her lips, I run it down her neck. The lying brat shakes her head at the same time she thrusts her breasts out and closes her eyes. Too fucking young. Her innocence betrays her for teasing a man hard and hungry for her.
I grip her neck and bring her up to me. She’s limp in my grip, not fighting me with a muscle in her gorgeous body. Small, so damn small. Careful with her, I try to remind myself. It isn’t easy though.Fuck, it isn’t easy. My entire life, the absence of feeling scratched at the recess of my mind, taunting me.
Physical sensation was all I had. For years, I would sink into any physical sensation I could—even pain at times—I was so desperate to feelsomething. The one thing I went back to time and time again is the simple yet powerful sensation of the sun on my skin. At times, it’s a slight sensation, other times it burns and stings. Nicolette Angelo is the sun on my skin.
Touching her is the sun, not on my skin—below it. She turns my skin hot and tight until I want to rip it from my body, to pull her under it with me. The visceral reaction is a shock to my system, and I instantly needmore.
It’s why I wanted so badly to follow her home. And a part of the reason I didn’t dare. If I had, I wouldn’t have left her there. It was why it would cost me marriage because only marriage would have been acceptable.
