Her plump lips opened, her tongue pressed against that adorable gap in her front teeth. Her eyes widened and the pulse at her throat quickened.
If I reached between her legs I’d find her dripping wet.
She hated me. That was obvious, and I couldn’t blame her. I tricked her into marrying me and that wasn’t a great foundation for a relationship.
But she wanted me just as badly.
And that, oh that was all I needed.
“What’s wrong with you? Why do you think you can just take whatever you want?”
“There’s nothing stopping me.” I tilted my head. “Are you going to?”
“I might. If I tried.”
“I don’t think so, little Cassie. I don’t think you want me to stop. You’re angry, and I don’t blame you, but I think you like it when I push you down, when I bite your lip.” I moved close, feigning toward her mouth, but she turned away as I predicted—
And fell into my trap. I lowered my lips to her earlobe, kissed it, opened my mouth, and bit down hard.
She gasped and arched her back.
I didn’t break skin. I released my teeth and sucked it gently. A little pain, a little pleasure. I kissed her throat, right above her pulse, and pulled back to stare into her widened eyes.
Aroused and afraid.
“Get off of me.”
“Ask nicely.”
She sucked in a breath. I joined her—deep in and deep out.
“Please let me go.”
I released her and stood.
She sat up, straightened her clothes, and folded her hands on her knees. She sat primly like she was at a job interview.
“Take two days. I’m being generous because I like you.”
“Is this how you treat people you like? By locking them in your fancy bunker?”
“I’m a complicated man.”
“More like a complicated serial killer.
“Two days, Cassie.” I walked back toward the door.
“Wait.”
I hesitated, looked back.
She stared down at her hands. Her cheeks were pink. I loved that little blush. I could read the level of her embarrassment in the color.
“I want a phone,” she said softly, demurely. She was learning already.
“What are you going to do with a phone?”
“Call Winter. She’s probably worried sick. Look at Instagram. Watch Netflix. I don’t know, anything. It’s boring down here.”
“Alright, I’ll get you a phone. But everything you do will be monitored, and if you try something impulsive, you will regret it.”
Another hint of anger. “I’m sure I will.”
“I’m not being coy. I will tie you to that bed face down and spank your ass until it’s as pink as your cheeks.”
More red rose beneath her skin. “You asshole.”
“I almost want you to defy me. I think you’d enjoy it.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Two days. I’ll have someone bring you a phone.” I opened the door. “Please try not to tell Winter too much. For her safety as much as your own.” I looked back at her. She staring at her feet, cheeks blazing red. “Or tell her. It’ll be fun.”
I closed the door and stood in the hall trying not to lose my composure.
I wasn’t sure if I walked away with the advantage there. She understood better than I expected how important she was to my plans. I hadn’t lied—I could move forward even if she chose not to play along—but she was already starting to make demands.
Dangerous, smart girl.
I was going to have a lot of fun with her.
15
Cassie
In my dreams, Roman didn’t stop.
Even when I begged and pleaded. Even when I told him how much I hated him.
He didn’t stop. He fucked me over and over again, made me come in wild, horrible, back-arching screams.
I woke drenched in sweat with a hand shoved between my legs.
God, what was wrong with me?
I sat up and ran through my body scan technique again. Top of head, tips of toes. When that didn’t work, I thought back to my panic attack in the car and closed my eyes. I fell into the breathing rhythm Roman walked me through, deep in and deep out, thinking about his muscular chest rising and falling, his hand on my thigh.
His mouth between my legs.
His teeth biting my earlobe.
That bastard. My husband.
The breathing worked. It calmed me down enough to get up and shower without melting into a puddle of desire and shoving two fingers deep inside of myself over and over until I got off with some tiny, unsatisfying orgasm.
Better to be in control than succumbing to ever filthy thought.
After all, that was the game. Roman wanted to control me, or at least he wanted me to play along.
I saw the cracks in his facade.
He pretended like it was no big deal, like he could follow through with whatever sick plan he had in mind without my help, but I could tell that wasn’t entirely true.
He said as much. I’d make his life a lot easier.
He needed me enough to trick me into signing a marriage certificate and a pre-nup. He needed me enough to drag me into his bunker and to keep me locked away.