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Drake moved suddenly, pressing flush against Alessandra. The move caught her off guard, and she took a cautious step back. He advanced, continuing to close the distance until her knees hit the couch. He smirked as Alessandra’s skirt pooled around her as she toppled backward. Drake leaned over her, caging her with his hard body.
“You think we can make this work? Enlighten me, what would that entail?”
“I… I don’t know,” she stammered.
She squirmed beneath his intense stare and heat. When she attempted to look away, Drake grabbed her chin forcefully. Desire knotted Drake’s stomach as he leaned closer to the siren. Their lips were so close he could almost taste her. Every fiber in his being warned him this was a bad idea until Alessandra’s tongue timidly licked her lips. Couldn’t she see the beast she tempted by simply existing in his space?
Drake pounced. His kiss was commanding, punishing, dominating, a promise of things to come—things that would destroy her. His cock twitched, and he pushed his hips against her, making her feel it. Would she be wet if he lifted her skirt and tore her panties from her body? She sagged against him, allowing him control. She was perfect.
There was no denying the spark between them. But there was also pain, betrayal, and humiliation. Drake needed to punish Alessandra. It was the only way to lance the festering wound. He bit Alessandra’s lip and tugged, adding pain to her pleasure.
“Drake…” she moaned.
The breathy way she said his name broke the spell. He pulled away, needing a moment to compose himself.
“Fuck!” He ran his hand through his hair. His eyes were magnetically drawn to her heaving chest. It was painful to pry them away. “You can stay in the spare bedroom. I’m sure you’ll find something suitable to wear. Tomorrow we can move your shit in. I suppose you can stay here until I figure out how to get us out of this mess. To clarify, I never want to see you again once this is resolved.”
Alessandra’s face fell as his words cut her. She didn’t deserve to be tied to a craven like him. If only Alessandra knew how broken and twisted Drake was inside, lost in the bleakness of his own soul. Pushing her away was the only way to save them both.
***
Chapter Three
Drake was a poor host indeed, leaving Alessandra stunned on the couch. She had dreamt of a marriage filled with love, unlike any she had experienced before, and realized now how naïve that was. It was foolish to hope Drake Walker would be that man. She chastised herself while attempting to catch her breath.
The slamming of a door made her jump. She sighed and adjusted her slipped bodice before wandering down the hall, searching for the spare room. The room was surprisingly warm and feminine compared to the rest of the modern, bachelor loft. The bed was made up with white sheets and a turned-down pink bedspread. She opened the closet door only to find it was a generous walk-inwith rows of clothes, shoes, and accessories.
A white lace garment caught Alessandra’s eye. She was sure it was meant to be worn by Riley on her wedding night. She fingered the delicate sheer tulle robe with a satin belt trimmed with white feathers.
“So much for our wedding night beauty. Who would’ve thought I’d have something in common with a discarded garment? We’re both unwanted.” She sighed and pulled the set off the hanger.
The day’s events weighed heavily upon her. She couldn’t well begin a marriage built on lies and deception. Wedding night expectations left her disappointed and wondering what she had done wrong. The fire and anger in Drake’s eyes confused her, while his rough treatment left her painfully aroused.
Drake had kissed her with such unbridled passion it left her dizzy. She caressed her kiss-swollen lips with the cold diamond, hoping it would help cool her fevered skin. His power radiated sex and danger, making her core throb. She peeled off her soaked thong, thankful Drake remained oblivious to the effect he had on her.
Soft morning light shone through the window, and a gentle breeze billowed the curtains to wake Alessandra the following day. She stretched her arms overhead and arched her back like a cat gazing around the room. Outside of the bed, there was a nightstand and a wall-mounted TV. There were no personal items in sight. Everything had been arranged in the closet.
They were overwrought on their wedding day, and many things were said and done in the heat of the moment. Still, Alessandra was disappointed to wake up alone. It was time to start her first day as a married woman, and she was determined to make a better first impression.
Alessandra studied herself in the mirror. The beautiful eye makeup now appeared heavy and smeared, and she didn’t have the proper cleansers for the waterproof eyeliner and mascara. Her skin was blotchy due to rubbing against the pillowcase and crying. A quick shower in the guest bathroom helped to invigorate her senses. After failing to find a toothbrush, Alessandra swished some mouthwash to freshen her breath.
The scent of coffee wafted into the room, perking her up. She quickly grabbed the sheer robe and pulled it over the white lacy undergarments. She was pleased they fit so well. Her torso appeared leaner, her breasts lifted, and her pert ass was displayed in the thong.
Before seeing her husband, she shook some of the burdens from her shoulders and slipped her mask back into place. Unfortunately, Alessandra ran smack into a wall of hard muscle as she walked into the kitchen.
He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” he barked.
“I’m sorry, Drake.” She refused to let Drake see her tremble.
Drake’s eyes slowly perused her body. Alessandra couldn’t resist doing the same. Her eyes drifted down the hard planes of his herculean chest covered with a tuft of hair darker than the hair on his head. His well-defined abs were closer to an eight-pack than six. The vee and dusky happy trail made a perfect arrow to draw her attention to the sizable bulk in his red silk boxers.
Drake released her and turned away. Her eyes dropped from the sinewy muscles of his back down to his titanium ass as he moved. His raw masculine energy radiated around them, and she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and drag her tongue against his hot skin, tasting every inch.
Tony had ensured Alessandra knew how to properly please men. No partner had ever sought her pleasure, leaving the act unenjoyable, but she performed as instructed. Drake was the first man she wanted to serve voluntarily.
She was willing to fall on her knees if he would stroke her hair and call her a good girl. More than anything, she wanted to prove her worth outside of the bedroom. She wanted to change Drake’s heavy scowl into a smile. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, after all.
“Would you like me to make some breakfast?” She crossed over to the stainless-steel fridge and pulled it open, only to find it empty, and quickly turned back to Drake. “Why is the fridge empty?”
