Making the King: A dark forced marriage romance (The Cruz Kings MC)

Chapter Three

The way Cara Rodríguez sways her hips when she walks should be fucking illegal. How does a nineteen-year-old know how to do that? Is it a natural progression into womanhood, to just instinctively know how to capture a man’s attention with something as simple as walking?

Whatever it is, has my eyes lingering on the round globes of her ass as she walks in front of me as we enter Dirty Diamonds. I swear she’s testing me. Waiting to see if I’ll turn into the monster she thinks purchased her at the auction. Waiting to see if I’ll throw her down and take what’s owed to me as part of the marriage agreement.

Her virginity.

Fuck. I hate that she thinks I’m that person, and I also hate the way I’m so fucking drawn to her and eager to know if said virginity is still intact.

“I don’t know why we are here. I already told you I finished all the book work.” Cara’s tone is laced with bitterness as she tosses a glare over her shoulder at me. “Jesus, were you just looking at my ass?”

Spinning to glare at me as she steps through the curtains into the main room of the club, I watch her fists clench like she is gearing up to punch me.

Fuck, I think I want her to punch me. I think I’d love to wrestle her to the ground and press my body into hers and…

“Rocco, my man.” Cain claps me on my back, snapping me out of my lust daze. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

I smirk at Cain. He knows exactly why I’m here. I sent him a text earlier making sure there weren’t too many of his pretty Diamonds around in the hopes Cara would feel more comfortable.

“Are the showers empty?” I ask, darting my gaze to Cara whose steely eyes widen.

“They are as empty as my soul,” Cain sing-songs, before throwing his head back and laughing.

Cara’s glare softens as a frown takes its place, her eyes now studying Cain.

He’s a crazy fucker. She will come to that realization quickly the more she comes into contact with him. As crazy as he is though, he’s solid. Reliable and trustworthy, traits that are hard to come by in our world.

“I have arranged all the most beautifully scented products for you to shower with.” Cain directs to Cara with a bow, and she jerks back like she’s just been slapped.

“What do you mean? I don’t need a shower.” Her gray eyes turn to me filled with panic and I frown.

I haven’t been able to establish why she doesn’t like showering. I thought perhaps she has a problem with confined spaces, but the dancers’ locker room has a large open shower space that allows multiple women to shower at once. I figured she’d feel more comfortable there, and since her last shower was a couple of days ago in my backyard after the whole bathroom screaming incident, I figured another shower was due.

“Come on, Cara. I’ll show you. The showers here are in a large room that you can have all to yourself.” I step up to her, taking her upper arm, but she shoves away from me, beelining for the exit.

“I showered a couple of days ago. I don’t need another fucking shower.”

It only takes me two strides to catch up to her before I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her back against me. She flails against my hold, but when I press my lips against her ear, she stops.

“Cara, just do me a favor and at least take a look at the showers they have here before dismissing it. I swear, if you don’t want to use them, you don’t have to.”

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly under my hold, the fitted clothes she wore when she stepped out of the prison gates like a glove on her body again today. From this angle, I can see down the front of her top, the valley between her breasts squeezing together by the hint of the black lace bra she’s wearing.

Shit.

Don’t get fucking hard!

I will my dick to listen to my brain. Pressing a boner into her ass right now isn’t how I want things to go down. I’m trying so fucking hard to hide how she affects me.

She may be my wife, but she didn’t choose this, and technically neither did I. Not for the purpose of love or some sick and twisted craving to possess a minor. By marrying Cara, I then became her guardian, which meant her parents, the sick cunts, could no longer have a claim on her. It was an arrangement I agreed to at Dante’s request. Being only nineteen at the time, I was closest in age to her, aside from Cain, but he would have scared her more than anything with his flighty personality, so I was the best option.

So as married as we are, I will not ask her to perform her marital duties, or even pretend to give a shit about me. Except maybe when we see her parole officer. But other than that, I want her to just be free and safe, and fuck, even though I want her to shower, she smells so damn good.

“Do you promise?” she asks quietly, her voice a little shaky. “Will you give me your word that you won’t make me use the showers if I don’t want to?”

“Yes,” I breathe against her ear. “I promise.”

For a moment, a brief millisecond, I feel her lean into me, tilting her head to press her ear closer to my mouth.

Fuck!

DON’T GET HARD!

Think of something gross.

Gangrene toes.

A bucket of vomit.

A cow giving birth.

Cara tugs at my arms around her waist before I can do anything else, so I release her and watch as she turns to face me.

“Show me.”

Wait. Is she asking me to show her my hard dick?

When I don’t speak, she rolls her eyes.

“Earth to Rochus. Show me the damn showers.”

Oh damn. Yes, the showers.

Fuck, I need to get my head out of the gutter when I’m around her.

Maybe I should find a Diamond to take the edge off while she’s showering. That should help me stop responding to her like a fucking dog in heat.

“Call me Rocco,” I suggest, my voice sounding husky, so I clear my throat.

“Or, you can call him Mr. King.” Cain’s voice reminds me that he’s still here, having witnessed me losing my fucking mind. “Or Master King. Or just Master. He’d like that too.”

“Really?” I snap at him, and he shrugs like he’s done nothing wrong.

“She’s your wife. She should be prepared for how you like it.” Cain shrugs and I roll my eyes, turning back to Cara.

She’s eyeing both of us like we are freaks.

She’s probably not wrong.

“Come on.” I urge her to follow me, and she does, giving Cain a wide berth.

He gasps and slaps his hand to his chest like she’s just stabbed him, the dramatics coercing a giggle to fall from Cara’s lips.

Fuck, I like the sound of that. I haven’t heard that from her until now, and fuck if I’m not going to make it my mission to make it happen again. And again. And again.

Weaving through the tables, I lead Cara to the back section of the building and down the long passage until we reach the dancers’ locker room.

After a quick rap of my knuckles on the door, I ease it open, ducking my head in to make sure it’s empty, before pushing it wide and gesturing for Cara to step in.

She does so slowly. Cautiously. Like she’s ready for a fucking bear to jump out at any second.

I go with her, staying close to her side as she walks through the space, her eyes raking over the racks of skimpy costumes, and the lockers with each dancer’s name drawn in lipstick on the front.

“The shower room is through there.” I point toward the door at the far side, and she makes her way over to it by my side.

Her chest is heaving faster the closer we get, her hands trembling as her eyes widen with fear.

I have no fucking clue what happened to her. No idea why this is such a massive deal to her, and even though I have no right to know, I want to know the reason behind it.

Taking the lead, I push the door open, revealing the large, tiled room beyond.

Cara gasps, leaps back and shakes her head frantically.

“No.”

“No?” I ask, still holding the door open, and she stumbles backward, tripping on her own foot as she frantically shakes her head.

Lurching forward, I reach out and catch her just in time, saving her from falling back on her ass.

“No!” She cries out, shoving at me, her breathing rapidly nearing panic attack level.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You don’t have to.” I remind her, holding her to me as I rub my hand up and down her back.

Looking down at her, I see her hands fisted in my shirt, her eyes wide with fear on the now closed door, like she can see through it to another realm where beasts roam the planet.

“Talk to me, Cara. Tell me why you can’t step foot inside that room.”

She shakes her head frantically, dragging her gaze from the door to press her forehead on my chest.

I’m not gonna lie. I fucking like having her this close. I just wish she wasn’t so scared.

“Talk to me please. I thought the room would be big enough.”

She nods this time, keeping her head pressed to my chest so I can’t see her face.

“It’s not the size.”

“Okay, well it can’t be water since you showered outside. So what is it?”

She shakes her head against my chest. “I can’t.”

My shoulders drop in defeat. Her fear. Whatever it is, runs deeper than I thought, which means until she knows she can trust me, she’s not going to tell me her secrets.

“Okay. Let’s go and grab a drink then. You can shower outside later when we get home.”

My words have the right effect, making her relax, her fists releasing my shirt as she steps back, her breathing not so dire now.

Reaching out to take her hand, she snatches it away like I repulse her, and I try to remind myself that’s not why she did that, but it still stings a little.

She has no reason to trust me, I get that, and I could tell her the real reason why I married her, but she’s not ready to hear that yet. She’ll just think it’s a lie, so I need to wait until I know she’ll truly hear me when I tell her.

Leading Cara back out to the main room, some Diamonds are there, watching each other rehearse, so I head to a table on the far side to give us a hint of privacy.

“Oh hey, Rocco,” Mindy beams, doing a small, excited jump on the spot which makes her tits bounce. The patrons love that shit.

Me, not so much.

“Hi ladies,” I offer them all, making sure I don’t single one out and make them feel special, which is what Mindy wants.

A drunken night and a gang bang later and she somehow has it in her head that she’s my girl. It’s been that way for a couple of years. You’d think the fact I haven’t touched her since would discourage her, but no, not Mindy. She’s dedicated, if anything.

The women all call their hellos as we pass by and I watch Cara when she’s not looking to see her annoyed frown as she looks at the women.

Ushering Cara to her seat, I excuse myself to get her a drink, and after I give it to her, I excuse myself again to find Cain.

“Is she enjoying the shower?” Cain asks as I pop my head in the supply room he’s rummaging through.

“Nope. She couldn’t even step foot in the room.”

Cain’s brows shoot up. “Damn. Any ideas what’s triggering her?”

Sighing, I cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the door jamb. “Nope. It’s not the confined space. And it’s not the water. So, I have no fucking clue.”

Nodding, Cain looks thoughtful as he straightens. “Maybe it’s just the room itself. It sounds like she’s had a bad experience inside a bathroom.”

One of my brows lifts. “You think?”

“I think about a lot of things. Toadstools. Magic mushrooms. Vaginas. Lizards. Cockroaches.”

I sigh at my friend. I shouldn’t have expected any other answer.

I look back down to the mouth of the hallway, seeing Mindy walk past, heading for Cara.

“Dammit,” I mumble, pushing off the wall. I don’t want Mindy messing with her.

Just before I reach the end of the passage, I hear raised female voices before Cain grabs my arm and yanks me back, shoving me hard against the wall.

His body weight is suddenly on me, and I frown down at him, wondering what the fuck he’s up to now.

“Wanna explain what the fuck—”

His hand slaps over my mouth, his eyes darting around sinisterly before he whispers. “Don’t let them know you’re here.”

“Why?” I mumble against his palm, and he rolls his eyes as if the answer is too fucking obvious to speak out loud.

“So we can hear what they say about you. Duh.”

I chuckle against his palm, but quickly forget about how close he is to me as Mindy’s voice gets louder.

“I don’t know why you’re looking so smug. You’re nothing but a child. You don’t have what it takes to please a man like him,” Mindy sneers and I hear Cara chuckle.

“Why don’t you take your jelly tits and go and tell someone who cares.”

Mindy gasps. “See. You don’t even care about him. Why are you even here? He’s married, you know.”

“Oh, really?” Cara asks, sounding more amused than anything. “Where’s his wife?”

“She’s probably at their house, preparing herself for when he gets home. On her knees, waiting submissively. Just the way Rocco likes his women.”

“And you would know, I guess?” Cara asks.

Fuck, does she sound annoyed?

Maybe I’m hearing things.

“Oh yes. I know.” Mindy purrs. “I know exactly how he likes it. Hard. Brutal. Controlling.”

“Tell me something,” Cara asks, “have you been with him since he’s been married?”

Mindy giggles. “Well, I mean, it was only that once, and well, everyone had a sample of everyone that night. If his wife had been brave enough to show up and join in, then I’m sure she would have loved it too.”

I struggle against Cain’s hold, but he shoves me back against the wall, shaking his head. “Uh-uh. Let’s see if she’s a mouse or a snake.”

I roll my eyes at him, ready to argue when I hear Cara’s voice again.

“So the answer is yes. You’ve fucked him since he’s been married.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“And what if she found out? What do you think she’d do?”

Mindy giggles. “She won’t find out. No one here is dumb enough to open their mouths about that if we ever get to meet her.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seem pretty dumb to me.”

Mindy gasps, and then there’s a loud slap, and I can’t hold back anymore, shoving Cain back hard and rounding the corner.

Mindy screams as Cara fists her hair and spins her, slamming her back against the wall with an oomph. As Mindy gasps for breath, eyes wide, Cara grabs the neck of my beer bottle and smashes it on the edge of the table before pressing the jagged glass to Mindy’s neck.

I try to lurch forward, but Cain wraps his arms around me and grunts in my ear.

“Let her work it out.”

“She’ll kill her.” I grunt back but Cain chuckles quietly.

“If she kills her, then we’ll clean it up.”

“I guess you really don’t know who I am,” Cara hisses in Mindy’s face, who is now sobbing, trembling with fear. “I am Mrs. King.”

All the tension leaves my body at her words.

“I am Mrs. King.”

Fuck. Why do I like the sound of her saying that so much?

“Y-you’re h-his w-wife?” Mindy stutters through her tears and I watch a slow, sinister smirk spread across Cara’s face.

Fuck. She’s beautiful.

“I am,” she agrees. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you for touching what’s mine?”

“Oh man. She just claimed you,” Cain mutters in my ear, and I snap back to reality and shove him off me, again.

“I-I-I…”

“Cara.” I rasp, stepping up to her side, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Mindy. “Forget her. Let’s go home where you can punish me for my transgression.”

Mindy’s eyes widen, which is exactly the reaction I want.

What’s going on with her and Cara is a power play. Mindy has lost, but I want to make sure she knows she never had a chance of winning.

This time, Cara’s steely gaze flicks to me.

Good. I have her attention.

“Forget her. She means nothing. She is nothing to me. Let’s go.”

Cara stares at me for a few long beats, her eyes a tornado of fury, and I know it’s not really about being jealous. It’s about respect.

Slowly, Cara eases back, dropping the broken neck of the bottle to the floor leaving a trail of blood on Mindy’s neck where it nicked her.

“Go near him again and see what happens,” Cara snarls before stepping away and turning her back on a distraught Mindy.

“Rocco?” Mindy whimpers, which pisses me off. What the fuck does she think I’m going to do? Stick up for her? Un-fucking-likely.

“Next time you, or anyone else, disrespects my wife, I won’t stop her from following through.” Then I lean in closer. “And don’t ever presume to fucking know me. You know fucking nothing.”

Cain chuckles and claps behind me as I step up to my wife and link our fingers. I expect her to snatch her hand away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she holds my hand tight and walks out of the club by my side.

I should probably be concerned that Cara may actually want to punish me for my transgression, like I offered her. The dominant part of me is furious at the thought, but there’s a part of me that would gladly kneel for her if that’s what she needed. I’d give her that, at least once, as long as she knew that if she steps over that line with me, there’s no turning back.