Oblivion (Alphaholes #4)

22. Evan

22

EVAN

T he look of sheer unadulterated confusion on her face is almost gratifying enough for me to ignore the screaming need in my balls. Having my dick inside her glorious wet heat and not fucking her was a lesson in patience, but it’s what she needed.

I know she expected me to fuck her into submission, I’ve no doubt that’s what my friends would have done. But Sammy isn’t anything like Starling, January, or Bunny, and treating her like she is would be a mistake.

For a second this morning, I thought that bringing her back here and ending her engagement would be enough. She said she was too tired to fight me, but that wasn’t true. She just wanted me to give her a reason to fight, and apparently, paying her tuition was her reason.

She wanted me to exert my physical will over her, but I already own her body, so I don’t need to prove that. That’s not to say that in different circumstances I won’t enjoy reminding her that she’s mine, because I will, but right then wasn’t the time or place.

From the start, I’ve known that I’d need to bind her to me an inch at a time until she’s so entwined, her escape is impossible, and although I’ve made a good start, I’m nowhere near done yet.

Her expression is almost petulant as I lead her into the bookstore, then release her hand and wait for her to go and pick her books. When she doesn’t move, I press a kiss to her cheek, then turn to browse the fiction section, leaving her to her own devices while I watch her from the corner of my eye.

It takes a while for her to finally head into the shelves, and I follow at a distance, watching her mutter under her breath. She’s probably calling me every name under the sun for not giving her the hard fuck she’s so desperately craving, but I’ll take all of the anger she throws at me.

Once she’s finished, she meanders toward the cash register, and I move to her side, taking the pile of books from her arms while we wait.

“I can buy my own books,” she snaps.

“Okay,” I agree, fighting a smile.

When it’s our turn, I place the books on the counter then watch as Sammy hands over her new student ID card. The cashier scans each book, then pushes them back toward Sammy. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

“I need to pay,” Sammy says.

“Oh, they’re all paid for. Your student ID is linked to an account.”

“No, that’s not…That can’t be.” Turning her furious glare to me, she snarls. “Seriously?”

Ignoring her ire, I scoop the books up, take her hand, and lead us away.

“I can pay for my own books,” she snaps again the moment we’re outside.

“You did pay. It went on your account.”

“And who pays for my account?” she questions.

“We do,” I say cheerfully, placing her books down on the rear seat of the golf cart.

“Who is we?”

“It comes out of our joint account.”

“We don’t have a joint account.”

“Actually, we do. I wanted to have it set up so it was ready the moment we got married.”

“We’re not getting married. I was engaged to someone else yesterday,” she shrieks.

“Do I need to demonstrate who you belong to, again? Because I’m not really a fan of public nudity, but I’m willing to give it a go if it’s what you need to be able to accept the truth.”

“If you try to take off my clothes out here, I will break your dick off and make you eat it,” she threatens through gritted teeth.

A bubble of laughter bursts from my throat, and her eyes narrow.

“You think this is funny?” she shouts.

“A little,” I admit, lifting my hand into the air and pinching my thumb and forefinger together.

“Fuck you, Evan.”

She sulks silently all the way back to the house, all through lunch, then all the way to her bedroom, where she climbs into her bed and rolls away from me, giving me her back as she closes her eyes and tries to pretend I’m not even in the room.

Amused by her attempts to ignore me, I climb onto the bed behind her, playing with my phone until she eventually falls asleep. She’s a heavy sleeper, so she doesn’t stir when I slip off the bed the moment her breathing slows and her body fully relaxes. Heading to my own room, I open my safe and retrieve a matching anklet and charm to the one I put on her the first night I broke into her parents’ house.

Lifting the bottom of the comforter, I slip the strand of gold around her leg, slide the charm into place, and then solder the two ends together. The moment I’m done, I exhale a relieved sigh. I don’t enjoy upsetting her, but the harder she pushes me, the harder I’ll be forced to push back, and the tighter I’ll pull the strands that are already tying her to me.

Sighing audibly, I recover her with the comforter and take my tools back down to my bedroom, sealing them into my safe with the rest of the jewelry I’ve bought for her. Unlocking her door, I climb the stairs and pause at the side of her bed, becoming impossibly hard at the sight of her. She’s wearing my name on her ears, ankles, finger, and throat. It’s only jewelry, but it means something to both her and me, and I can’t wait until she’s branded everywhere and bound in my web, entombed in silk so sheer you can barely see it.

Quickly stripping my clothes, I climb into bed behind her and make slow work of painstakingly removing her pants and panties. She’s still in a sports bra, but I leave that on, carefully parting her legs and guiding my dick into her wet heat.

I could fuck her right now, but I’m content to just feel the way her cunt tightens, clenching and relaxing around my thick cock, as her body draws the cum out of me even while she’s asleep.

After I’ve tortured myself for long enough, I push my hand between her thighs and find her clit, slowly rolling my hips, as I rub the swelling bundle of nerves with the pad of my finger, gently coaxing her awake.

I feel the moment she fully wakes up as an orgasm rolls through her body and her muscles clench with the onslaught of unexpected pleasure. Unable to wait a moment longer, I lose my own grip on control, thrusting hard and deep, once, twice, three times before I explode inside of her, pumping her full of my cum while she struggles to process what’s happening to her body.

“Oh god, oh fuck, you fucking asshole,” she chants, as her orgasm keeps coming, her body entirely out of her control.

“Fuck, Wild One, you feel amazing. I love feeling your cunt milk the cum from my dick,” I groan, my hips stuttering as my release keeps filling her body.

Instead of words, the noises she makes become pleasure-filled whines and panted moans until her body finally relaxes, sagging into the mattress.

“What the fuck was that?” she gasps.

“That was me making you come…hard.”

“I was asleep.”

“You’re not asleep now,” I point out the obvious.

“Your dick shouldn’t be anywhere near me when I’m asleep,” she protests, but even as she yells at me, her cunt is fluttering around my dick, urging me to keep going.

“You like me fucking you when you’re asleep.”

“I’m asleep. You’re not giving me a choice.”

“You came all over my cock, Sammy. Does that sound like you weren’t enjoying it?” I taunt.

“I need to pee.”

“In a minute, I’m not done yet,” I protest, pulling her back into my chest and staring down between us to where my finger is toying with her clit.

“I’m not kidding, Evan. I really need to pee.”

“Once you come for me, you can go,” I growl.

“If you make me cum, I’ll pee all over the bed. There is nothing sexy about urine,” she says, not hiding the disgust in her voice.

“Fine,” I sigh, reluctantly withdrawing until my dick slips out of her, making a wet sound as it hits my thigh.

“Urgh, why aren’t we using condoms? Clean-up is disgusting. I’m going to have to change my sheets.”

“We’re moving to my room tonight,” I tell her.

“I don’t want to move to your room. I like this room,” she protests, whining.

“You can stay up here if you want, but if you do, I’ll have Clay turn on all the cameras. I’ll lock the doors and keep you up here until you put on a show for me,” I say, forcing myself to stay deadpan.

“You’re such a freak,” she hisses, stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom, naked except for the sports bra, my cum dripping from between her legs.

Rolling onto my back, I palm my still semi hard cock and debate the merits of fucking her again now, or waiting until later. When I hear the sound of the shower turning on, I let my hand fall away, resigned to the fact that I’ll have to wait.

“Evan.”

The shrill sound of my name being yelled from her lips makes me instantly fully erect. Rolling off the bed, I saunter naked into the bathroom, a smirk plastered on my face.

“What the fuck is this?” she demands, her hair and body wet, her foot lifted into the air as she examines the new anklet I put on her.

“Do you really need me to tell you what it is?” I ask.

“Why is it on me?”

“Because that leg is mine,” I tell her like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Are you fucking serious?” she shrieks.

“Yes,” I say calmly.

“Stop putting jewelry on me.”

“No.”

“I’m getting them cut off.”

“If you remove them, I’ll brand my initials into your skin instead.” It’s a threat, but I’m not bluffing. I wasn’t lying when I told her I already have a brand. I do. When I tattooed her finger, I’d fought the desire to use the brand instead but decided against it. If she tries to remove the binds I’ve put on her, I’ll have no choice but to resort to more extreme measures.

Her eyes widen and fill with heat and then fear. She’s terrified but turned on by the idea of me claiming her so permanently. I file away the information as I climb into the shower beside her, picking her up and impaling her on my cock, just like I did this morning.

She scowls the entire time it takes for us to get clean, rushing away from me the moment I let her go.

“How much more jewelry should I expect to appear?” she asks coolly.

“I haven’t decided,” I admit.

“This is crazy, Evan.”

“Are you ready to marry me?” I ask, shocking myself.

“No.” She shakes her head, but despite her refusal, her eyes aren’t saying no. In fact, the heat and want in her gaze is saying the exact opposite.

“Then clearly, we’re not done,” I tell her, my chest full of hope that the next time I ask her, she’ll give a different answer.

The movers show up with the things she took to Harvard an hour later. Sammy directs them to bring the boxes to her room in the turret, but I tell them to take them to my room, and when I hand them each a hundred-dollar bill, they eagerly pile her boxes in my living room.

“I’m not sleeping in here,” she protests loudly, but there’s no heat behind her argument. She knows this is her room now, and if she really didn’t want to stay with me, she’d be fighting a lot harder than she is.

“We’re going to a party tonight,” I tell her on the way down to dinner.

“I don’t really feel like partying.”

“Why not? You love any excuse to get dressed up, drink cocktails, and shake your ass. When was the last time you did anything fun?”

Her brows furrow as she thinks. “Before I went home for summer break last year,” she admits.

“Then it’s long past overdue.”

“I’d rather go out with just the girls.”

“You can ignore me all night if you want to. But I’ve already explained what I’ll do to anyone who touches you. So, you can wear what you like and do what you like, but you’ll need to live with the consequences.”

Her shudder is all repressed need, and once again, I’m reminded of just how perfect this woman is for me. She might hate herself for it, but she loves how fucking crazy I am, and it turns her on that I’d destroy someone’s life just for touching her.

While we’re eating, I pay the movers who brought her stuff from Massachusetts to empty her room and move it all down to my suite. Once we’ve all eaten dinner, I guide her to my room, not her own, to get ready, and she doesn’t seem at all surprised to find her things hanging in my closet next to mine.

Without any more prompting, she pulls a sexy dress from the rail, slips her underwear off, then shimmies into the dress, leaving herself completely bare beneath. The black dress is almost to her neck at the front, perfectly showcasing the padlock, glistening at her throat. The straps curl around the backs of her shoulders, reconnecting to the dress beneath her arms, leaving her entire back bare all the way to the dimple above her butt. The skirt ends mid-thigh, but all I can look at is the perfectly smooth, sweeping line of her spine.

The possessive asshole in me wants to demand that she change, that she hide all that perfection from anyone’s eyes but my own, but I told her she could wear whatever she wanted, and I won’t renege on that.

“Take it off,” I growl.

“I refuse to let you pick my clothes. I had enough of that with?—”

I cut her off before she could say his name. “The dress is fucking perfection. I just have a gift for you that you’ll need to put on first.”

“I can’t wear anything under this. The fabric is too thin. You’ll be able to see it.”

“It’s not underwear. Now take it off.”

Her eyes are wary as she stares at me, but she’s too curious to deny me. Carefully peeling the dress up and over her head, she places it back on the hanger, then hooks it onto the rail, staring at me naked and expectantly.

Smiling, I let my eyes greedily take in her nakedness. I’ve seen and touched her bare body multiple times now, but she’s still almost too fucking perfect. Sighing, I reluctantly turn away and head for the safe that’s hidden behind a picture on the wall. It’s a little cliché, but it was already here when we moved in. Opening it, I search through the boxes I have stored in here and eventually find what I’m looking for. Closing the safe, I saunter over to her, running a finger from her navel up her body, stroking a path between her perfect breasts all the way up to the padlock adorning her throat.

“Are you going to take it off?” she asks breathily.

“Never,” I whisper. Curling my finger beneath the padlock at her throat, I open the box in my hand and slip the fine strand of chain free. Her eyes go wide, and she swallows thickly, whimpering with fear—or want—when she sees what’s in my hand.

“Shhh,” I soothe, holding her in place as I fasten the length of chain to the padlock, then let it slither down her body, watching as the metal glides over her smooth skin like it’s silk. Quickly grabbing the end, I attach it to another strand of chain, which I secure around her waist. Turning her away from me, I fasten a third strand of chain from the ring around her waist to the necklace around her throat at the back of her neck.

None of the chain is tight, but it hangs from her throat, between her breasts to her waist, then up the length of her spine to her neck again. It’s a gold harness and it’s fucking perfect. It’s not practical for her to wear this all the time, but if it was, I’d solder it in place and keep her wrapped in it for the rest of her life.

“What is this?” she whimpers, her chest rising and falling as she runs her finger along the chain around her stomach.

“It’s not permanent,” I assure her, running my finger over the identical monogrammed padlock charm that’s permanently fused to the chain that’s hanging above her belly button, then the second one that’s positioned between her breasts, before I reach around and stroke a finger over the one that’s resting in the dimple just above her ass. “But you’ll wear it tonight. It’s a reminder that while I don’t care what you wear, you still belong to me. Can you feel it, Sammy? Can you feel it from the way the gold hangs between these perfect fucking tits? Can you feel the way I’m wrapped around you even while I’m not touching you? Can you feel my brand, my name, my claim, my ownership touching you everywhere?”

Her shaky moan is music to my ears. She loves this, and I’d bet if I were to reach between her legs she’d be soaked.

“Evan.”

“Ask me, Wild One. Ask me to brand you on the inside before we go out. Tell me you need me to own you.”

“I need you…” She falters, then looks up at me with needy eyes. “I need you to own me, Evan.”

Darting forward, I lift her off her feet and carry her to the bed, spreading her out on the comforter as I allow myself a moment to take in her utter perfection. Then I drop to my knees, part her legs, and devour her.

Curling one hand around the chain at her waist, I keep her thighs open with my shoulders, while I suck and lick and eat her cunt until her ass is writhing, her lower body unable to stay still while she plaintively begs for more.

Some guys like to hear their woman beg, but it’s not my kink, at least not while I’m fucking her or making her come. Spearing her with two fingers, I find her clit and suck, curling my hand until she comes on a scream. The moment her mounting pleasure starts to wane, I stand up, lift her entire lower body off the bed, and slam into her.

I start to come the moment I’m inside of her, but I keep fucking her, knowing I’ll stay hard enough to keep her screaming. As I thrust into her, more cum bursts from my dick every time I bottom out, my body perfectly fitting with hers.

The sex is quick and messy and fucking perfect, and my balls feel empty by the time she finally starts to calm. I’ve never come so quickly or for so long in my entire life. Fucking Sammy is nothing like the sex I’ve had in the past. Every other experience I’ve had feels hollow and mechanical in comparison. Sammy is my everything, and knowing that without her IUD, the cum I just stuffed into her could be becoming our baby right now only makes everything even better.

Getting her pregnant will be the final lock on her bindings, the last strand that draws all the others together and incapacitates her entirely, and I can’t fucking wait.

Reluctantly pulling out of her, I use my fingers to push my cum back into her cunt, collecting the cream from her folds and stuffing her with it.

“I need to take another shower.” She laughs, the sound sated and relaxed.

“Oh, Wild One, you know I’m not going to allow that. I like knowing you’re wrapped in my chains, full of my cum, and having to squeeze that wet little cunt all night to make sure I don’t drip out of you while you shake your ass in that perfect fucking dress.”

Her eyes go wide, then burn with excitement.

I knew she wanted the kind of toxic love my brothers have with their women, but I had no idea how much she needed it. But I see it now. I see the way her body ignites the more intense I become. Because the tighter I bind her, the freer she gets. She’s perfect. We’re perfect.

Helping her to her feet, I pull her into my arms and kiss her, pushing my tongue and the taste of her own sex into her mouth. She kisses me back like she needs me to survive, and I feel my muscles lengthen in response to her happiness.

By the time I pull away from her lips, I feel three inches taller and lightened by the knowledge that I’m not forcing any of this on her. She wants it all, everything I have to give.

When she pads into the bathroom, I follow her, ignoring her requests to give her space to use the toilet. Instead, I wait for her to finish, then push her hands away when she goes to wipe.

“I won’t have you wiping me out of you,” I tell her, carefully cleaning her, while I finger fuck my cum deeper into her channel.

After we’ve both washed our hands, I follow her back into the bedroom and watch as she pins her hair up in a simple, sleek ponytail, pulling it over one shoulder so nothing is hanging over her back.

I’m fascinated as I watch her apply her makeup. She doesn’t seem to wear much, but by the time she’s finished, her eyes are sexy and smoky, and her lips are shiny, full, and plump. She pushes her feet into high strappy sandals before finally pulling the dress on again.

I almost spontaneously combust at the sight of the delicate chains skimming her flawless skin, the only adornment against her naked spine. Closing the distance between us, she pauses a few inches from me, then looks up, arching her eyebrow and daring me to do something.

“You look perfectly indecent.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asks, a smile spread across her daring mouth.

“Yes. I love you like this, wrapped in my chains, wearing my name over and over. Next time I’ll wrap strands around your thighs and between your legs, the metal will tease your needy little clit all night long while you dance and show everyone what belongs to me.”

Her breath hitches, and her lips part on an audible gasp.

Smiling, I curl my finger beneath the chain at her throat and tip her chin up. “My wild, wild girl, you want that, don’t you?”

Visibly panting, she shakes her head, but we both know it’s a lie. “Next time,” I promise, and instead of trying to deny it, she nods.

It takes me less than five minutes to pull on jeans and a button-down. Placing my hand on the base of her spine, I toy with the chain hanging just above her ass as we descend the stairs to the kitchen where the others are waiting.

The girls rush toward Sammy the moment we step through the door, and I tug on the chain, stopping her from going to them until she twists to look at me over her shoulder. The moment I have her full attention and her heated gaze on me, I reluctantly let her go, imagining all the other chains I plan to wrap her in the next time I have her alone.

My dick is rock hard and raging for release, but I silently warn it to calm the fuck down, because it’s going to be a long night and hours before we get any kind of release. I know plenty of people fuck in the woods behind where tonight’s party is being held. But Sammy and I won’t be one of them. I refuse to allow anyone the chance of seeing her even partially naked, and I know that voyeurs have been known to wander the woods searching for someone to watch.

As I scan the faces of the friends that I consider brothers, we all have matching expressions of barely restrained need. Although I’m sure the need we’re feeling is different for each of us.

Bastian needs control, to the point of obsession, and some days, even allowing Starling to leave his sight is almost impossible for him. Clay needs to watch and to chase. He’s never specifically told me as much. I know that both he and his wife enjoy some primal play. And Hunter needs obedience. He craves Bunny’s total submission, and having only gotten her back less than a month ago, I know he’s struggling with not strapping her to his chest to make sure she never leaves him again.

I need…Sammy. I need her and everything that comes with her being mine. I want what all of my friends want and need too, only I think my desires may be worse than theirs because I’ve denied myself for so long.

When the girls all start to make their way to the front door, I reach for Sammy, curling my finger beneath the chain around her waist and slowing her. “Give me your hand, Wild One,” I quietly demand.

It takes her a moment to reach for me, but when she does, I entwine our fingers together, then release her waist and walk with her out to the carts. Hunter seats Bunny in the passenger seat before he slips into the driver’s seat, and I pull Sammy onto my lap in the back while the others pile into a second cart.

We hear the party long before we traverse the path into the woods and park our carts in the spaces that are always reserved for us. Ours aren’t the only families who get this kind of preferential treatment. We’re just the only ones on campus right now, and it’s a stupid but useful perk not to have to walk half a mile through the woods.

Lifting Sammy off my lap, I pause and wait to see if she’ll try to walk away or wait for me. I’m surprised but ecstatic when she reaches for me, taking my hand without me having to prompt her.

Just like every other party we’ve been to, she starts to dance the moment she gets to the edge of the dance floor, tugging at my hold on her as the music pulses through her. Not releasing her, I tug her to my chest, hook my finger beneath the chain at her throat, and force her to look at me. “Remember what happens if anyone touches what’s mine,” I warn her.

Rolling her eyes, her expression turns stubborn, and I can’t help it. I smile. I might enjoy her submission and even forcing her compliance, but I love her rebellious streak just as much. I’m not sure if she’s willing to ruin someone’s life just to push me to see how I’ll react, but I’m interested to find out.

Arching an eyebrow, I dip my face and kiss her, forcing my tongue into her mouth and demanding her compliance until we’re both breathless. “I’m happy to play with you if you think this is a game. But remember, you won’t be the one living with the consequences. No matter how much you flirt or tease other men, I’ll never let you go, but I’ll make you watch as their homes are foreclosed and their lives fall apart. I won’t let you hide from their ruin. I’ll make you watch, knowing it was entirely because of you.”

Fear fills her eyes, but I won’t back down. I’ve set the rules and explained the punishment if she breaks them. The rest is up to her.

“What do you want to drink?” I ask, dropping my finger from her necklace and pulling back.

“Surprise me,” she pants.

Smiling widely, I nod. “Have fun. I’ll be watching.”

Gesturing to the guys, I tip my head in the direction of the bar, and they all follow, leaving the girls dancing in a group.

Unlike what I’d assume most college parties look like, Kingsacre parties are an excuse for the organizer to show off. Instead of bonfires and kegs, we have LED dance floors, full DJ setups, and a fully stocked bar manned by several bartenders, all in the middle of the woods.

Turning so I’m facing my friends but can still see the girls, I wait for the questions that I know must be coming.

“Sooo…” Clay asks.

“Sooo?” I mimic back.

“I think we’re all wondering why Sammy isn’t screaming the house down, cutting the tracker from her skin and making a run for it?” Bastian asks succinctly.

“Because she knows she’s mine, and this is where she belongs,” I deadpan.

“Bullshit,” Hunter snickers. “Are you blackmailing her?”

“Unlike you,” I snark. “I don’t have to blackmail my woman into my bed.”

“So, you’re together, just like that?” Clay asks, shock and suspicion lacing his tone.

“Yep,” I say, popping the letter p like an asshole.

“And she’s not fighting?” Hunter asks.

“I didn’t say that.” I chuckle.

While Clay and Hunter question me, Bastian stares at me, assessing my expression curiously. “Where did you tag her?” he asks, his attention going to Starling every few seconds like he’s ensuring he never loses sight of her.

I let my own eyes scan the crowd of people until I find Sammy, dancing in the middle of the group of girls. Once I’m satisfied that she’s not grinding her ass on some unsuspecting guy, I turn my attention back to Bastian.

“On her scalp above her ear, between her shoulders, and on her ankle.” I admit.

“Does she know?” Clay asks.

“No, and she doesn’t need to,” I tell him pointedly.

“Are you worried she’ll run?” Hunter asks.

“No,” I answer honestly.

“No?” he questions.

“No. She knows I’ll never let her, and deep down, she doesn’t want to. She rebelled when she agreed to marry that douche. But in a couple of days, I caught her and brought her home because this is where she wants to be. She understands fleeing isn’t an option.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.

“Four virgin mango margaritas and four beers, please,” I tell him.

“Virgin?” Bastian asks, his brow arched in question.

“Sammy won’t be drinking from now on,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Does she know that?” Hunter chuckles.

“Not yet. I already arranged for all of the wine coolers the girls like to be swapped for non-alcoholic ones, but with the regular labels on them.”

“Why?” Clay asks.

“Because I won’t allow her to drink alcohol while she’s pregnant with my baby.”

The bartender slides the drinks across the bar to me while my friends stay frozen, staring at me incredulously. Using their moment of shock to avoid answering questions, I grab the tray of drinks and leave, striding through the crowd until I reach the girls.

“Drinks, ladies,” I say, holding the tray out to them.

“Mango Margaritas?,” Sammy says, taking a glass and lifting the straw to her lips. “Yum.”

Winking playfully at her, I take a beer, then hold the tray with the other three bottles out to Hunter, who immediately takes it. Ignoring my friends, I wrap my body around my girl and start to dance.

My little tease grinds her ass into my dick for the next hour, reaching back to curl her arm around my neck while we show the entire party just who she belongs to.

I don’t bother trying to hide my arousal from her. My dick has been hard since I fucked her full of my cum earlier. It doesn’t matter that I’ve had her multiple times already today. My need for her hasn’t been even slightly sated.

“Evan,” she whines, spinning in my arms to press her tits against my chest.

“What’s up, baby?” I ask, already knowing that she’s teasing herself almost as much as she is me.

“I’m ready for you to take me home now,” she pants against my ear, pushing onto her tiptoes, and elongating her delicious body so she’s rubbing up against me from her tits to her needy pussy.

“It’s early. We only just got here.”

“Evan, I’m ready.” Her voice has dropped to a husky purr, but I don’t allow her to sway me. I’m all for her trying to seduce me, but she needs to realize that I won’t allow her to lead me around by my dick.

“I’ll go and get us some more drinks,” I say, flashing her a knowing smile as I peel myself away from her, not bothering to adjust the bulge in my jeans.

Ordering another round of virgin cocktails for the girls and beers for the guys, I hand the cocktails out, then join my brothers who are standing in a group on the edge of the dance floor. All three of them are scanning the crowd, staring death at anyone who dares to glance toward where our women are laughing and dancing.

When a group of guys, brave or stupid enough to approach our women, starts to sidle near, my brothers all tense, ready to go and reap bloodshed and destruction on them, but I don’t move, content to simply watch.

“That asshole’s eyeing your woman,” Hunter says, his voice rough and animalistic.

“That’s okay,” I say, tipping my head to the side and watching as Sammy notices him.

“How the fuck is that okay?” Clay asks, barging past me to go to January, pinning her to his body and claiming her mouth with his.

One by one, my brothers claim their women. Hunter lifts Bunny off her feet and carries her off into the woods without a backward glance, while Bastian crooks his finger, silently ordering Starling to come to him. When she does, he collars her neck with his palm and whispers something in her ear.

The only one still dancing is Sammy. The remaining guy brave enough to still be trying his luck is behind her, not touching, but clearly considering his options. I know he’s there, Sammy knows he’s there, but her eyes are on me, watching to see what I’ll do.

It’s obvious she wants me to go to her, or demand she come to me, but I won’t. I laid out what would happen if she allowed someone else to touch her. Now she has to decide if I’ll follow through with the threats I’ve made and if it’s worth the risk by pushing me.

The guy slips his arm around her waist, and her choice is made. It doesn’t matter that she jumps, clearly startled, not realizing he was close enough to touch her. It doesn’t matter that her eyes immediately widen and then fill with fear.

She was testing me, and the moment she allowed him to even consider she’d welcome his touch, she decided his fate and became the catalyst of his and his family’s doom.

Pushing his hand off her like it’s toxic, she rushes forward, but I ignore her. Calmly pulling my cell from my pocket, I open the camera app and snap a picture of the shocked and annoyed-looking dude who will soon be kicked out of school and homeless.

“No, no, please, Evan, no,” Sammy pants, wrapping herself around me.

“I warned you,” I answer coldly.

“No, it was an accident. I didn’t know he was going to touch me. I was looking at you. You know I was. You know it wasn’t deliberate. Please, please, please.”

“What did I tell you would happen?” I ask, not lifting my arms to hold her, even though I want to.

“You’re not that cruel. It’s not his fault, it’s mine. You can’t hurt that stupid guy. I don’t even know his name.” Tears are filling her frantic eyes, but I’m unmoved. She pushed me to see what would happen, and now I can’t back down, even if I wanted to. But I don’t. He put his hand on her. He touched what’s mine, and now I’ll ruin him because of it.

“You should go and dance. I don’t know how long it’ll be until Hunter and Bunny get back.”

“Evan, please, please, don’t do this. Punish me, not him,” she begs.

“Did you finish your drink? I’ll go and fetch you another.”

“Evan,” she chokes, her voice thick with emotion.

“Samantha.”

Jolting at the sound of her full name on my lips, she buries her face in my shirt. I feel her shoulders start to shake, but I don’t comfort her. She did this, and now she has to live with the consequences.

“Is she okay?” Starling asks, moving to stand beside me with Bastian at her back.

“She’s fine,” I answer, flashing Starling a pointed look.

“Are you sick?” she asks Sammy, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

“I don’t feel well,” Sammy says, lifting her tear-stained face from my shirt.

“Do you want to go home?” Starling asks.

Sammy nods, and Starling turns to Bastian, who glances at me. He doesn’t ask, but he notices that I’m not comforting my crying girlfriend. Instead of calling me out, he steps to where Clay and January are dancing, letting them know that Sammy is ready to go.

When Clay and January rejoin our group, I gently pry Sammy from my chest and turn her toward Starling. “You go home with Starling, and I’ll wait for Hunter and Bunny to get back,” I suggest.

“No,” Sammy gasps, fresh tears filling her eyes.

“Make sure you drink some water before you get into bed. I’ll be back soon,” I tell her, taking a step back and flashing a pointed look at Bastian.

“Evan, no, come home with me. Please,” Sammy begs, curling her fingers into my shirt.

“I’ll be back soon,” I promise, unfurling her hand and taking another step back. I’m not enjoying putting distance between us or the horrified regret that’s so clear in Sammy’s eyes. But even though she’ll hate it, she needs to understand that I won’t allow her to use other men to taunt me.

If she chooses to flirt, dance, or touch other men, then that’s her choice, but her conscience will be heavy with the weight of her actions.

Hopefully one ruined life will be enough for her to learn not to fuck with me, but I’ll do this as many times as I need to, until this lesson sinks in.

Sammy’s crying in earnest when Bastian steps between us, blocking me from her view. Throwing an arm around each girl, he guides them around the edge of the dance floor and toward where the carts are parked. The moment they’re out of sight, I meander over to the guy who was stupid enough to touch what belongs to me, tap him on the shoulder, and offer him my hand.

“Hey, I’m Evan Morris, and this is going to sound weird as fuck, but did you go to Green Acres Academy? Because I swear, I recognize you, and I have no idea where from.”

His eyes flash with excited recognition, and he eagerly takes my hand, shaking it firmly. “Hey, I’m Trevor Landon. It’s nice to meet you. No, I went to St. Augustus. I’m from South Dakota originally.”

Furrowing my brow, I scan his face, pretending like I’m trying to place him when I’m actually trying to remember if I recognize his name. “Landon…” I hum. “Landon, like the coffee?” I ask, suddenly placing the name.

Shrugging self-deprecatingly, he nods. “That’s me, or my family, at least. Obviously, I know who you are. The Morris name is pretty easily recognizable. But I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

Chuckling, I smile friendlily. “Well, you must just have one of those faces. Have a good night, Trevor.”

“You too, Evan. Nice to meet you.”

Turning, I walk away, pulling my cell from my pocket as I type out a text to Clay.

Me

I need to know everything about Trevor Landon and his family ASAP.

Clay

Who is Trevor Landon?

Me

No one important. Or at least soon, he won’t be.

Slipping my cell back into my pocket, I head to where our second cart is parked and climb into the seat. Part of me wants to head home to see what Sammy is doing, but as much as I want to see if she’s in my bed or her old room at the top of the house, I know she needs some time and space to feel the impact of her actions more.

When I check the time on my watch, I see it’s barely ten p.m. It’s too late to call most people, but my dad will still be awake.

Finding his contact, I hit dial, and he answers on the second ring.

“Hey, son.”

“Hey, Dad. How’s Cassidy and the baby?”

“They’re both fine. I made her go to bed because she’s exhausted, but she was determined to finish the chapter she was working on today. Is everything okay?”

I take a moment to try to figure out how to answer that.

“Sammy’s home.”

“Good.”

“She and I are together now.”

“About time. I wasn’t sure you were ever going to make her yours.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I ask carefully.

“Of course.”

“I know we asked you to bring Cassidy into the family so that Starling would come too, but how did you guys end up…together, together?”

His chuckle is low and full of fond amusement. “That’s quite a question for a Wednesday night.”

Sighing audibly, I prop my foot up against the side of the cart. “I don’t know how much you know about what the guys have done to ensure they ended up with the girls…” I start.

“Look, son. We don’t need to talk about any of that, and I don’t need to know what any of you have done. But I’ll tell you this much. We’re the type of men who see something we want and figure out how to get it. My marriage to your mother was fucking terrible. She’s a bitch who pretended to love me but left me the moment things didn’t go the way she wanted. Cassidy is her complete opposite, and if I did some things to ensure that she became and stayed mine, then I’m okay with that. I guess what I’m saying, son, is that if you need to do anything to make that girl yours, then do it. Sammy’s a firecracker. She’ll keep you on your toes and challenge you at every turn, but if having her will make you happy, then do it, because it’ll be worth it in the end.”

He’s avoiding telling me what he did to make Cassidy fall for him, but honestly, that might be for the best, especially given mine and Starling’s tentative truce. It feels odd to basically have my dad’s blessing to cross lines and break laws, but I do feel better knowing that being this fucked up clearly runs in the family.

Hunter and Bunny find their way to the cart about fifteen minutes later. Bunny’s lips are swollen, and her hair is a mess, but they’re both giggling and grinning, so whatever they got up to in the woods was obviously a good time for both of them.

“Where is everyone?” Bunny asks, curling into Hunter’s side.

“Sammy wasn’t feeling well, so the others took her home. I offered to wait for you guys.”

“Oh no, is she okay? We only had a couple of drinks each, and I don’t even feel tipsy,” Bunny says, concern etched in her voice.

“It’s been a crazy couple of weeks for her. I’m sure she’s just tired. Are y’all ready to head home? If not, I can leave you the cart, and I’ll walk back.”

“No, we’re ready,” Hunter says, lifting Bunny into the back seat and curling himself around her like a human blanket.

The house feels tense when I push open the front door and step inside. There’s sound coming from the kitchen, so I move toward it, bracing myself as I step into the room. Clay and Bastian are sitting at the table, but the girls are missing.

“Want to explain?” Clay asks, holding his cell in the air.

“I’ll be up in a minute, little Rabbit,” Hunter says, turning Bunny toward the stairs before he steps into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table.

No one speaks until we hear the sound of her retreating footsteps on the stairs.

Sighing, I pull out a chair and sit. “Do you have the information I asked for?”

“I’m working on it. But what’s going on? Sammy is a fucking mess. She was crying. I’ve never seen Sammy cry,” Clay tells me.

“She’ll be fine,” I assure them coldly.

“Does she know the guy, Trevor Landon?” he asks.

“I don’t believe so.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Hunter questions.

“We don’t know,” Bastian says. “The girls were dancing when those guys approached. You took Bunny, Clay went to January, I called Starling to me, and then suddenly, Sammy was rushing to Evan and crying.”

“Did this asshole hurt her? I’ll hold him down while you fucking kill him if he did,” Hunter growls angrily.

“No, he didn’t hurt her.”

“Then what the fuck is going on?” Bastian asks, his well-held anger slipping free.

Sighing, I explain. “Sammy is mine. I know it, you know it, and Sammy knows it. I warned her that if she tried to use someone else to piss me off, I would ruin their life and that of their family. I told her that she could choose to tease me, she could make the choice to allow others to touch her, but that the consequences of that choice would rest solely on her shoulders. Today, as you were laying claim to your wives, she was taunting me, dancing while that fucker watched and edged closer to her, wanting to make her his. She let him touch her, and now I’m going to destroy him and make her watch.”

A choked laugh bursts from Clay’s lips as he visibly relaxes, leaning back in his seat. “Well, fuck. So, she’s upset because she tried to test you and lost.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t push her too far. She’s not as tough as she pretends to be,” Bastian says, his voice low and gruff.

“I know exactly how far to push my woman,” I growl.

His jaw clenches, but he concedes with a slight nod of his head. “Let me know how I can help.”

“His family owns Landon Coffee. It should be fairly easy to incite a hostile takeover. Once Clay has a better idea of their financial situation, we can discuss how best to destroy them. First, though, he needs to leave Kingsacre. Clay, would you mind arranging for his expulsion?”

Clay laughs, then shrugs and lifts his cell. “Do not tell January that I did this. She will kick my ass.”

“Them?” Hunter asks. “You plan to ruin his whole family, not just him?”

“All of them. I don’t want him to have anyone to turn to for help. Perhaps in a few years, I’ll allow them to regain some of their wealth.” I sound robotic and mercenary to my own ears, but this isn’t about Trevor or his family. This is about my woman understanding the lengths I’ll go to, to keep her.

Not interested in talking about this anymore, I push out of my seat and head for the refrigerator. Grabbing a couple of bottles of water, I put some berries in a bowl and take some cookies from the cabinet.

“Night,” I say, not looking back as I leave the room and head for the stairs.

Pausing on the landing, I question if I should head up to Sammy’s old room at the top of the house or if she’s been sensible enough to go straight to the room we now share. My gut tells me that although she might have wanted to run from me, she won’t have.

Turning for my own room, I open the door and step inside, closing and locking it behind me. Just as I anticipated, she’s here, her tear-soaked face looking up at me from the couch.

Instead of going to her, I walk past her, head for the bathroom, and wet a washcloth. Coming back into the living space, I sit down beside her on the couch and carefully wipe her face with the cloth, cleaning the mascara-stained tear marks from her cheeks.

“Please don’t do this, Evan,” she begs, her voice thick with emotion.

“It’s too late for that now,” I answer evenly.

“It’s not. It was a mistake. I was looking at you. I didn’t let him touch me. It was just his hand on my stomach.”

Placing the washcloth on the edge of the coffee table, I shuffle forward, unfurling her legs and pulling them over my lap. Cupping her cheek with my palm, I lean in until our foreheads are pressed together. “I don’t want to tame you, my beautiful wild girl. That’s why your choices will always be your own. But I told you what would happen if you let another man touch you…didn’t I?”

“Yes, but?—”

I cut her off. “And you allowed him to touch you…didn’t you?”

“No. I was looking at you,” she argues.

“But you knew he was there. You glanced at him right before you turned to me.”

“Yes, but?—”

Interrupting her again, I tip my head to the side, softening my expression. “I told you exactly what I’d do to anyone who touched you. I reminded you before we went out. I told you several times, and yet instead of coming to me, instead of stepping away from him or telling him you were taken, you tried to test me. You taunted me with your wild eyes and your beautiful body, and you let him put his hands on what belongs to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Samantha. You tested me, and I understand why you did it, but actions have consequences. The boy’s name is Trevor Landon. In a few days, he will be expelled from Kingsacre University. His family owns a coffee company which will be the subject of a hostile takeover, and his parents’ home will be lost, their living stolen from them. His expulsion will mean the best degree he’ll ever hope to achieve will be from a community college, and his family’s reputation will be destroyed.”

“No.” Tears fall from her eyes as she shakes her head.

“Do you understand now?” I ask.

She nods. “How can I stop this?”

“There’s no stopping it.”

“There is. There has to be. Tell me how to stop this.”

“It’s already done,” I tell her coldly.

“I’ll marry you. If I marry you, will you stop this? I’ll never let it happen again. I swear, it’ll never happen again.”

“I’ll marry you tomorrow, Wild One, but that won’t change the Landons’ fates.”

“Please, please, please, Evan, don’t punish him for something I did. Punish me.”

“I am punishing you, Samantha. This will be a lifelong lesson because you’ll never forget his name. You’ll never forget the part you played in his life falling apart. You’ll never forget that if you’d just remembered that you aren’t free to give yourself to someone else, then none of this would have happened.”

“I’m yours, Evan. I’m yours. Don’t do this. Don’t force me to live with this guilt. Please, please, please.”

Clambering into my lap, she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my back, pleading over and over against my ear while her tears soak the fabric of my shirt. Eventually, she cries herself to sleep, and I exhale, finally breathing a sigh of relief when I can wrap my arms around her and hold her the way I’ve been wanting to.

Once she becomes a dead weight in my arms, I carefully carry her to bed, stripping her dress over her head and removing the chains that are wrapped around her torso. Laying her back on the mattress, I cover her naked body with the comforter, then open my safe and put the chains back in the boxes.

Instead of closing it again, I search through the pile of boxes until I find the two I’m looking for. Lifting them out, I grab the other items I’ll need and head back to her, crouching on the floor by the side of the bed. Opening the first box, I take out the thin strand of chain and affix it around her wrist, sliding the padlock charm onto it before I fuse the metal together, adding another permanent piece of jewelry to her body.

Grabbing the second box, I replace the earrings in her ears with a new pair I picked out for her. This set are dark green emeralds, and as with everything else I’ve bought for her, they’re engraved with my initials.

Putting the empty boxes back into the safe, I add the earrings I just removed from her ears to her jewelry box, smiling at the small collection I’ve started for her. The safe is full of beautiful things I’ve had made for her. I could give her it all at once, but I’m enjoying gifting her one thing at a time.

Turning out the lights, I strip out of my clothes and climb into bed, pulling her into my arms as I slowly drift off to sleep.