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“I’ve never…” My face flushes in a rush of heat so fast I feel dizzy. I spent too much time in the brutal Vegas sun today.
“Never what? You’ve never been fucked?” He stares at my mouth while asking that highly personal question and dropping the f-bomb.
I shake my head, swinging my ponytail from side to side until I can force the words from my mouth. “I’ve never even been near any men before.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” Now his face lowers to my white tennis skirt that doesn’t quite reach my knees. “My dick is going to be the first one inside your tight virgin pussy.”
His statement is so presumptuous I nearly scoff. The only reason I don’t is because I’m not sure what he would do to me. On second thought, I like that unknown, and part of me wants to wipe some of the arrogance off his face.
“I-I don’t have to marry you.” Unfortunately, the stammer doesn’t make my words sound very confident. “Just because Cass refused you, and I’m all that’s left, I can still say no.”
There’s a flash of confusion in his eyes before he blinks it away. When I try to pull my arms out from underneath his, he tightens his grip, pinching them against the chair arms.
“Is that what you think?”
I lift my chin a millimeter higher to try and appear more assertive than I sound. “Yes.”
His right hand leaves mine for a heartbeat and then I see a flash of silver. A long, sharp blade shoots out threateningly from what I realize is a knife. With a flick of his wrist, the pointed end of his knife is suddenly aiming toward the lap of my skirt. The tip slams down right between my thighs that I manage to part just in time, so that the blade thankfully imbeds into the cushion of the leather seat and not my flesh. My jaw falls open in disbelief looking between the weapon and the man, but no sound comes out. What is wrong with this guy? Is he insane? He nearly stabbed me! Did he want to hurt me?
Of course, he did.
And it’s probably my fault for pushing him.
Do I regret it? Definitely not, even if I can’t think over the pounding heartbeat in my ears.
Keeping hold of the knife handle, he steps up into the space between my legs, using his knees to force mine to open wider. His left hand still covering mine on the chair arm tightens to hold it in place. I’m completely at his mercy, which is scary and exciting all at the same time.
“How about now, princess? Still think you can refuse me?” His eyes are filled with the promise of pain if I reject him. Since I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew, I shake my head, unable to speak as he holds me in the crude position, stealing all the air in the vicinity.
In my head, I wanted to say the opposite. Other parts of my body are overheating and heavy, wishing I had refused for an entirely different reason—to push him further, to see what he would do if I deny him.
“Final answer, are you going to be my wife?” His eyes narrow at me as if he knows my inner turmoil.
“Yes,” I reply, even though I’m still unsure what I’m agreeing to.
“Good girl,” he says with a smug grin that makes me melt a little in the chair. Lifting the knife to free it, he retracts the blade and flips it over so the cool steel of the handle brushes my bare inner thigh, making me gasp. He grins wider, watching my face while slowly moving the knife higher and higher, heading for the part of me that no one has ever touched before.
I self-consciously try to close my legs, but he still has them pried apart with his bigger, heavier ones.
“When you’re my wife, you’ll spread your thighs for me when I tell you to. And if you don’t, I’ll do it myself. Nothing is going to keep me from your pussy once it’s mine.”
He drags the handle over the crotch of my panties, making me gasp again at the same time the fabric becomes damp. The touch is light as a feather, but I’ve never felt anything as acutely as that hard hilt of his knife. I hold completely still, afraid to breathe.
“So, tell me, princess, are you going to be a good girl who gives it up to me or a naughty girl who makes me take what’s mine?”
“Naughty.” The word flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. I’m not even sure where it came from. I’ve always been the good girl, but for him, I let him see that secret, dirty part of me that wants bad things that it shouldn’t.
Smirking, he says, “That’s the right answer.”
Withdrawing the knife hilt from between my legs, Lochlan straightens to his full height. As soon as he takes a step back, I snap my legs together while he slips the knife back into his front pants pocket.
“Keep those legs closed just like that for everyone but me, Sophie.”
Hearing him say my name sends a shiver down my spine. His words sound like a threat. Like there would be consequences if I disobey his command.
Before I can blink, he turns and strolls out of my room without another word, leaving me burning up, confused, and ashamed of myself for wishing he had done more than just graze my wet panties with his knife.
After he’s gone, I can’t stop replaying how his gravelly voice said my name, as if he already knows me.
