“Of course, Budimir is my right-hand man.” I stand. “Let me introduce you to him. Follow me.” I take him out of the dining room and down the corridor toward my study, where Budimir is working on some ledgers.
“Budimir, I trust I can leave Mr. Santoro in your hands?” I glance at the man. “He has some logistical things to run through with you.”
Budimir stands and nods. “Certainly sir, leave it to me.”
I turn to Mr. Santoro and give him my coldest stare. “Thank you for dropping by.” With that, I walk out of the room and leave my second to handle him. It’s clear my calculation was correct, and they don’t intend to push me off the throne.
I walk up the stairs of the mansion and head toward Eliza’s room. It’s getting late and since it’s our wedding day, I must ensure that we consummate the marriage. Even if she hasn’t yet calmed down, I can’t wait. Now that I’ve had Don Pablo’s blessing, the only thing not legally binding is my marriage to Eliza. The marriage can still be broken, and that’s the last thing I need.
I stop in front of her bedroom door and take a deep breath. Eliza already knows I’m a monster with no heart. She knows how dark my soul is. And now she’s going to see how ruthless I can be.
I open the door to find her fast asleep on the bed she’s chained to. Her face looks unnaturally serene as when she was dragged in here earlier, she had been frantic and hysterical.
Perhaps it would be easiest if I start while she sleeps. I know I’m sick to even consider it, but it would make it easier. Stepping inside of the room, I shut the door and pull off my tie, slinging it onto the chair nearby. I also pull my jacket off and then unbutton my shirt, neatly folding them on the chair.
There’s no delaying the inevitable. The whisper of desire I’d felt before slams into me harder than I’ve ever felt, my cock turning solid in my boxer briefs as Eliza shifts slightly in her sleep and her gown falls open, revealing her large, firm breasts.
I unbutton my pants and fold them, placing them on top of the rest of my clothes before removing my boxers. Once I’m entirely naked, I walk toward her. She’s still so peaceful and unaware of what’s about to come as she sleeps.
I get under the sheets with her and gently try to wake her, my hand moving to her nipples and caressing the hard buds between my fingers.
She groans in her sleep, those luscious lips part, drawing my eyes to them.
I clench my jaw, unsure why I so badly want to kiss her. Perhaps it will ease her into the process. I move my lips closer to hers. A shudder races down my spine as I never kiss, and yet Eliza Estrada’s lips are so enticing.
I press my lips to hers and a kick of adrenaline races through my veins as her lips part, allowing me to slide my tongue inside her mouth. I hesitate, my heart pounding unevenly in my chest and making me feel off kilter. And then I delve inside, stroking my tongue softly against her own.
She moans into my mouth, still sleeping but reacting to my touch.
My cock becomes unbearably hard as I move my hands to her breasts again and caress her beautiful, curvy body.
The kiss deepens as I tangle my tongue with her own, shocked at how arousing it is. The act has always disgusted me, but with Eliza it feels good.
And then her eyes flick open and go wide. Out of panic, she bites my tongue hard; the pain sending a spike of pleasure right through me. I pull my tongue out of her mouth as the metallic taste of blood becomes apparent. The vixen bit me and I hate to say that I liked it more than I should.
“Eliza, there’s no need to be so aggressive,” I murmur.
She tries to pull away, but the restraints hold her in place. “No, don’t.” Her eyes flood with tears as she turns into a hysterical, panicked creature in front of my eyes.
“I’m afraid it’s time for you to do your duty as my wife.”
Her lip trembles and the tears flood her face freely, making her look achingly beautiful. I have always enjoyed other’s pain and heartache and right now the look on her face is making my cock harder than stone.
“How could you do this?” she asks, her voice full of disbelief.
I tilt my head, taking in every blemish on her skin as I study her like an oil painting. “Do what?” I ask, reaching for her face and brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Take what I was born to rule?”
Her lip trembles and she bites on it to stop herself from crying more. “Kill my papá in front of my eyes and still expect me to be your wife. Expect me to have sex with you.”
“It was an unfortunate necessity.” I pinch her hard nipple with my finger, making her gasp. “And so is what I have to do now.” I move my hand to her other nipple and caress it. “We need to consummate our marriage on our wedding night.”
Her lip wobbles. “You’re a psychopath.”
“Perhaps,” I murmur, not really concerned by her diagnosis. My hand moves lower and I dip it inside of her panties, groaning when I feel the wetness between her thighs. “You are wet,” I say, surprising myself with the awe in my voice.
She tries to clench her thighs together, but the restraints hold them open for me. “Get off of me.”
I slide two fingers inside of her and fuck them in and out of her tight cunt.