240
Theresa
I do, and that is the problem. This man has been nothing but rude to me since we met. Oh, he’s made me orgasm, but he’s never been open with me. Not about his past, not about why he agreed to marry me-I mean, why he really agreed to marry me. And then he kidnaps me and brings me here, all without giving me an explanation for why. And yet, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. There’s no one else I’d trust more to keep me safe. How fucked up is that?
I close the distance between us and he stiffens.
“I understand,” I murmur, “I know you’ll keep me safe. I trust you, Axel.”
His gaze narrows. Some of the tension seems to leave his shoulders. He drags his gaze across my features, and my breath catches. Something in how he’s watching me makes me feel like I am at his mercy. And I am, make no mistake. I am in his house, without any of my friends or family, without any money or my purse or my phone with me. I run my suddenly damp finger down my wedding dress which I am still wearing.
The firelight catches on my ring and I pause. He seems to see it the same time as me for his jaw flexes. “Come here,” he holds out his hand.
I hesitate.
“Thought you said you trusted me?” he murmurs. His blue gaze bores into me and a rush of heat sizzles over my skin. It arrows straight to my core, where a pulse blooms to life.
“Theresa?” He arches an eyebrow.
I swallow, take a step forward, another, then place my hand in his.
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my fingers. Goosebumps pop on my skin. I wasn’t expecting that from him. He nips on my finger tip, then closes his mouth around it. My belly clenches. A moan leaks from my lips and his mouth curls.
“You are in my home, under my protection. I can promise you that I will guard you with my life, Theresa.”
Something hot stabs at my chest. “What if I don’t want that?” I swallow, “What if I don’t want anything to happen to you?”
“I thought you were angry at me for bringing you here.”
“I still am,” I try to tug my hand from his. but he doesn’t release it, “doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”
His lips kick up, “Concerned about me, wife?”
That heat in my chest detonates and spreads to other parts of my body. “I don’t want to be,” I say truthfully, “but I’d never wish harm on anyone else, including you.”
“I think you are lying.”
Heat flushes my skin. I pull my hand from his, and this time, he releases it.
“I have never lied to you, Axel. Unlike you.”
A pulse flares to life at his temple. The skin around his eyes tightens. Shit, why did I have to go and spoil the moment we were having there? Anger rolls off of him and my belly flip flips. Damn it, even his annoyance turns me on. The way he pouts, how his gaze intensifies, how his nostrils flare as his fingers tighten around the glass. I squeeze my thighs together and the alertness in his gaze signals that he’s noticed it. Nothing escapes him, does it? I turn away-because if I stand there longer, I’ll sink to my knees and reach for his zipper and- Argh, don’t think about it. Don’t. I walk over to the shelves of books that line the wall, run my finger down the spines: War and Peace, Pinocchio, The Ugly Duckling, Harry Potter, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, a book of poems by Lord Byron. My finger touches the book and the entire panel swings open.
“Oh,” I gasp as a room comes into view. It’s lit only by the light that streams in from behind me.
“You’ve found my secret, I see.”
“Eh?” I gasp, then turn around, trip on my own feet, and almost fall, except he grips my shoulder and steadies me. “You scared me,” I say with a nervous laugh. Shit, now I sound afraid. And I am not afraid. Not of him, but about what I am going to find in the room behind me. Well, the jury’s out on that. “What’s in there?” I murmur.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
“Are you inviting me in?”
He moves forward and I skitter back and past the doorway.
“Now you are already in.” One side of his lips kicks up. My pulse rate ratchets up. Heat from his body pours over me and slams into my chest. I gasp and the scent of him intensifies. My toes curl and my scalp tingles. I’ve always had this unreasonable attraction to him, but in his home, under his roof, surrounded by his things, his magnetism is potent. If I stand here a second longer, I am going to throw myself at him and ask him to fuck me. Which is fine, he’s my husband, right?
But our relationship is far from conventional, and damn, if I am going to ask him for anything! I spin around, walk inside the room. Behind me, I hear his footsteps, then the clink as he places his glass on a table. The click of his lighter and the flicker of the flame precede the diminishment of the darkness. I turn to find he’s lit one of the candles on a stand.
That’s when I realize that he has placed candles on stands and in a circle around a flat table in the center of the room. There is enough space between the candles for someone to walk through. He lights another candle, then another. He doesn’t stop until all the candles are lit. The light falls over the table which has a padded surface like it’s intended for someone to lay down on it. I glance up at the walls, take in the painting on one side-a woman surrounded by flames. There’s something haunting about her face. I walk closer to study her features. Her eyes are half closed, her mouth open, her head thrown back in the throes of-
“-ecstasy,” he murmurs, his voice right behind me again.
I jump, press my hand to my chest, “You need to stop scaring me like this.”
“You need to actually start trusting me like you say you do.”
I toss my hair over my shoulder, then turn away to stare at the opposite wall on which hangs a paddle, a rope, a whip, and some other device which looks like a spreader. A spreader? I scowl. It would lock around the ankles and force the person on whom it is being used to spread their legs.
“Oh,” heat flushes my cheek, “this is your-”
“Now, not-so-secret room.”
I turn to face him, “Is this where you bring your women?”C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.
“Yes.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Why did I expect him to say anything else? Of course, he has had lots of women, but to bring them here to his house? Why had I thought that I was the first person he’d brought here?
I turn to leave and he grabs my wrist, “Where are you going?”
“Back to my room.”
“Our room.”
“I am going to sleep in one of the guest rooms. Surely, you must have guest rooms in this space.”
“You are my wife; you sleep in my bed.”
“So you can fuck me?”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
I hesitate.
“You’re a terrible liar, so don’t even try,” he warns.
I swallow, not sure what to say. I glance down at where his fingers are curled around my wrist, then back at his face.
“I-” I open and shut my mouth. I can’t bring myself to say it. “I-” I try again, then shake my head.
He releases my wrist, only to nod toward the padded table, “Get on it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He folds his arms across his chest, “On the table, Sunshine.”
I turn to leave when he snaps, “Now.”
I pause. Damn it, I hate it when he uses that tone of voice. When I can’t disobey him. When everything in me insists that I do as he says. I do hate that, right?
“Theresa,” he warns me.
I blow out a breath, then stomp over to the table and heave myself onto it. I fold my arms across my chest, mirroring his stance. “Happy?” I huff.
“Part your legs,” he commands as he walks over to stand in front of me.
“Wh…what?” I blink.
“Do it.” He lowers his voice to a hush, “Or you can always leave.” He nods toward the door.
I glance at the door, then back at him. Goddam it. I slide my legs apart, as much as the gown allows, that is. He stares down at the space between my thighs and my clit begins to throb. I grip the table on either side of my legs.
He reaches out and presses his palm flat against the center of my chest. He applies pressure and I lean back on my elbows.
I swallow and he cups my cheek. “Shh, Sunshine,” he croons, “I won’t hurt you.”
Then, he grips the neckline of my dress and tugs. With a ripping sound, the gown tears in half.
“My wedding dress,” I cry out. When I try to sit up, he wraps his fingers around the side of my neck and holds me in check.
“I’ll buy you another.”
“But I like this one.”
“I’ll buy you an exact copy.”
“But it’s my wedding dress,” I protest.
“And I am your husband.” He pulls apart the two sides of the dress and cool air floats over my skin. My nipples tighten behind the demi bra that I had slipped on earlier this morning. God, was it only this morning that I had gotten married? It seems like another time, another world. He pulls down my bra cups and my breasts spill out.
“Fuck,” he growls, then bends and closes his mouth around one nipple. He bites down and I cry out. The pain shoots straight down to my core. My clit engorges. He massages my breast even as he turns his head to my other breast. He takes the nipple between his lips and tugs on it. My entire body jerks.
“Oh, hell,” I groan.
He raises his head and holds my gaze as he slides his hand down my waist. He grabs my panties and tears them off.
The breath squeezes out of me. I can’t speak, I am just so surprised by the suddenness of his action.
He pushes up to stand over me and rakes his gaze down my exposed body. Then he reaches over, and almost experimentally, pinches my clit.
My entire body hitches off of the table. “Oh, my god,” I gasp. “Oh, god.”
“There’s no god here, baby,” he says in a hard voice, “only me.”
He thrusts his fingers inside my channel, works them in and out of me, then brings his fingers to my mouth. I wrap my lips around his digits, suck on them.
“I want you.” His tone lowers to a hush, “I want you the way I’ve never wanted anyone else before.”
Warmth pools in my lower belly. Heat flushes my chest. His words shouldn’t move me, but they do.
“Axel,” I whine, and his gaze jerks back to my face.
“I want to take you the way I have never taken anyone else before.”
His words penetrate the sexual haze that swirls around me. “Wh…what do you mean?”
“Do you trust me?”
I draw in a breath.
“Do you?”
I nod.
Something like satisfaction shows on his features. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blindfold.