Chapter 3
EVERETT
“Well, good.” Her eyes dart to the side, then back to me. She keeps worrying her bottom lip. “Everyone’s always telling me what to do, so at least I have options. A choice. Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
She’s blabbering, a panicked little thing, but I hear her, and the things she says give me pause.
This is the first time anyone’s given her a choice? Her? The spoiled princess, raised with the world at her feet? All this time, and she’s never had a say?
Given her family name and the mouth on her, I always assumed she had every option lying at her feet. That staying locked away in that mansion, living off her daddy’s money, was the life she chose for herself. Either that, or shoplifting when the mood struck.
My eyebrows draw together in confusion.
Impossible. I couldn’t have been wrong about her. About them.
The rumors circling about Aurora all sound the same…Winston treats her as his prized possession. Talks about her as if he loves her.
He tells every influential man who’ll listen that they’ll be lucky to marry his daughter. That merging their families will benefit both sides.
No, I wasn’t wrong about her.
I silence the voices urging me to pity her. They have no room here. “Lying won’t save you, princess.”
Her nostrils flare, throat straining against my palm. “I wasn’t lying.”
“You weren’t?” Her act won’t fool me. “What about stealing? Or, let me guess, you have a twin I don’t know about?”
The red in Aurora’s cheeks is the darkest I’ve ever seen on a person. Her jacket stretches over her tits.
I adjust my knee to press between her legs, shoving her skirt up as I do until Winston’s daughter’s pussy is hot, pulsing against me.
She must be wet too.
When I lift my thumb to slide along her bottom lip, a small moan escapes her.
I’m going to use her arousal against her.
“Cat got your tongue?” I raise an eyebrow. More fury and shame roll off her in waves. I can almost taste them. “Thought so.”
“You’re a weak fucking loser for hurting me like this.”
As a punishment for talking back, I rub my knee over her pussy. Her skirt and my gown are restricting, but I’m persistent. I’m also hard as fuck. Dying to feel her.
“Homeschooling did wonders for your vocabulary.”
Our foreheads nearly touch. Her soft whimpers brush my lips like a dare.
“Fuck you,” she wheezes. Between panting and the hold I have on her throat, breathing can’t be easy. “Fuck. You. How’s that for my vocabulary, Your Honor? Or would you prefer Your Majesty?”
“You could call me that.” Proving just how much power I have over her, I pull up to my full height.
I drive my knee harder into her cunt as I tilt her face up with my thumb.
“When you write me letters from prison. When you rot in there for life. Either that, or I could dismiss the charges against you.”
“You would?”
My eyes eat up every inch of her face. Not because she’s beautiful. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. The moment I crushed a Clarke.
“Then you’d have to call me your husband.”
A gasp. A blank, confused stare.
The slowest pulse I’ve ever felt beneath my palm.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Revenge is motherfucking sweet. “Your. Husband.”
“Husband? You want me to marry you?” Aurora blinks, realization flashing behind her eyes. “Oh, hell no. You’re delusional. I would never marry you.”
I move my hand to the side, offering myself access to her neck. I run my lips along her exposed skin. She shivers when my teeth graze her.
I tell myself my actions, my touch, are driven by revenge.
That tasting Aurora, grinding my knee against her pussy, and forcing more shameful moans out of her, are acts of cruelty.
“Prison it is, then.” I run my tongue over her jaw one last time. And tear myself off her to watch her crumble.
Her hands are shivering as she flattens them against the wall.
Her neat bun has gone askew. Creases have formed on her pristine suit.
Tears line her pretty eyes.
She’s a mess. I wrecked her.
“Why, Everett?”
Because torture doesn’t come in the form of touch alone. It also comes in the form of taking it away.
“As I said.” I right myself, adjusting my painful hard-on. Willing my beating heart to slow the fuck down. “You have two choices. One, to accept your sentence. A life sentence, if I so choose. The other option—”
“And I asked you why?” Shock makes her sound younger than she is.
“Because.” I walk back to my desk, perching on the edge. “That’s what you deserve.”
“I can’t do life in prison.”
Her half-demand, half-plea goes right over my head. I shrug.
“I won’t make it. You can’t do this to me.”
I cross my legs at the ankles, folding my arms over my chest.
Both my eyebrows raise as I feign boredom. This one isn’t easy to pull off. No red-blooded creature could ever be bored by this panicked, flushed version of Aurora.
I’m no different.
But that’s none of her goddamn business.
“Hence your second option.” I’m talking purposefully slow. To ridicule her. To get more of those pouty lips and unsheathed rage. More of my revenge. “Marrying me.”
“Neither.” She flinches into the wall, pressing her legs tightly together. Poor thing has no idea if she’s offended or turned on. “My parents won’t let you go through with it.”
My enemies.
She’s your enemy too.
“Fuck. Your. Parents.” I enunciate the words slower than before. “They can’t help you.”
I’m past mocking Daddy’s little princess.
I’m threatening her.
“What do you mean?”
“Hmm.” I cock my head. “Let’s see. What do you think they can’t help you means?”
“I… Look, you might be powerful, but so are they,” she whispers, as if talking about these fuckers will summon them. If only. “They’ll appeal whatever sentence you give me. Either that, or they’ll ruin you before they let you marry me. They didn’t choose you.”
“There’s no such thing as equal footing, even among the powerful.” My robe is killing me. It’s heavy. Hot. I push off the desk, taking it off. “You should know that.”
“So let me get this straight—you’re more powerful than them?”
Light filters through the window behind me, softening her face and making her eyes shimmer with excitement.
With hunger.
For what?
She isn’t hungry, asshole. Can’t you see she’s manipulating you?
She is. I can’t fall for her mind games.
“I’m getting bored, Aurora. Really fucking bored.” I place my robe neatly on the desk behind me and rest my hands on the edge. “You have ten seconds to choose, or I’m throwing your ass in prison.”
“I…”
The outline of my hard cock grabs her attention for a moment, before she forces her eyes back to my face. Before she rearranges herself.
Her contemptuous expression reminds me of who raised her. The heartless motherfuckers I’m going to destroy.
“I’ll marry you.”
Aurora’s answer shouldn’t stir any warm emotion in me.
And it doesn’t. Absolutely not.
So when I say, “Good girl,” I don’t praise her. I’m saying it to fuck with her head.
I see slight relief wash over her, and I smirk.
Who’s delusional now?
“Let’s go.” I push off the desk and stalk over to her. My hand becomes a manacle around her wrist. Too easily, I haul her toward my closet.
“What—where are you taking me? The door is that way.” She tries to free herself while I tug her further into my chambers. “Are we doing this now? The ceremony? I—no. Everett, stop.”
“My workday isn’t over.” I don’t look at her while I yank my closet door open. Clean robes, ties, and pressed suits hang on the rack. “I have about three more hours until I’m done.”
“Let me go.” Aurora punches my shoulder. “Everett, why won’t you let me go?”
Because I like having my fingers curled around your wrist.
Fuck that. “I can’t have you running off, can I?”
“Please.” The desperation in her tone has precum leaking from the tip of my cock. “Don’t.”
Viciously, I turn her around. Grabbing one of my black spare ties off the rack, I bind Aurora’s wrists at her back.
When her lips part to scream, I press her cheek gently into the wall next to the closet, covering her mouth to quiet her.
“I can’t have you making a sound either. Thank you for the reminder,” I say. “Wouldn’t want my bride to cause a scene.”
She jerks under my touch. “Stop it,” she groans, the words muffled but unmistakable. “Stop it.”
She’s trembling. Angry. Scared.
Good.
The throbbing in my cock turns into a pressure that’s impossible to ignore. I rock my hips into her tied hands.
God, yes. The friction helps to clear my mind of the thick lust clouding it.
Problem is, now I can see what’s in front of me.
Aurora. Not crying.
She isn’t crying.
Anyone else would be losing their shit at a time like this, but she isn’t.
Curious.
Absolutely not. Nothing about her is interesting.
I reach into the closet and grab a second tie. Fast, so she won’t get to scream, I nudge it between her lips, getting bit while she attempts to stop me.
I shove it deeper into her mouth. The silk material is there, on her tongue, when I tie it around her head.
She looks beautiful like this.
Silenced. Gagged. Shaking with either rage or fear, I can’t tell.
“Now, be good.” I drag her toward the closet. Her heels scrape loudly against the wooden floor on the short way there.
“Mmmmm!” Her eyes widen as she screams something I can’t decipher. Another protest, maybe. Another demand.
None of it matters.
“You’re going to wait for me here.” Shoving her inside, I hold her by the throat just long enough to make sure she won’t try to escape while I talk to her. “I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom anytime soon. See you in three hours.”
Her groan is silenced by her gag.
I slam the heavy closet door in her face, cutting off her muffled cries in an instant.
Click, and it’s locked.
Robe. Keys.
I’m halfway across the room when my phone vibrates inside my pocket.
Winston.
I send it to voicemail, then text him.
Me: If you or anyone on your behalf comes anywhere near this court to take what’s mine, you’ll be charged with abduction and false imprisonment.
Winston Clarke: Pick up your damn phone, and I won’t.
Me: No.
This is the most information I’m willing to offer him.
When I have this part of my revenge locked down, then he and I can talk.