Chapter 23 —Eva
I sat on the sofa in his master bedroom, hands clasped in my lap as my heart pounded in my chest. I knew deep down that there was no way I was going to resist him tonight.
The room was decorated with candles, their dancing flames casting warm glows over the space. Rose petals were spread across the king-sized bed, their fresh fragrance filling the air.
A banner that read “Just Married” floated above the bedposts, and a soft classical song played in the background. The room was designed to set the mood and make the night romantic.
Whoever was behind this had outdone themselves; they’d done a good job with the decorations and the playlist. Under different circumstances, this would’ve been the perfect wedding night in every sense that mattered.
But sadly, I’d been forced into this without my consent. I was bound to a beast for the rest of my life with no possibility of escape. The wedding and everything that came with it happened so fast, leaving me no time to breathe.
One minute, he was telling me that I was going to be his wife. And the next, I was standing beside him at the altar, reciting my vows. I hadn’t fully processed the entire situation—the pregnancy, my new last name, and eternal damnation.
As I sat there in a white satin dress—the only one available in this massive bedroom—I thought about how much I hated the man who had ruined my life. My hair was still damp from the shower, strands clinging to my skin as I tapped my feet against the floor.
I could hear the sound of running water in the bathroom, and I knew he’d be out any minute now. My pulse was racing because, despite my anger and hatred, my body still craved his touch. Honestly, the only reason I’d been able to stay celibate all this time was because we slept in separate rooms.
Now, I was locked up with him in this beautifully decorated room, with a romantic atmosphere—not to mention the seductive song playing in the background. I tried to channel all my emotions into anger and hate, hoping those feelings would kill the growing lust inside me.
Demyon had predicted that I would crave him again and that he would be there when I did. I’d been longing for him for days before now, but with all these factors he’d put in place, it was even worse tonight.
I was supposed to be super tired and furious after playing the role of the happy bride all day. However, my mind was filled with illicit thoughts on how tonight was going to unfold.
It was so embarrassing. I was anticipating the touch of the one I hated the most, even though I should have been hating his guts. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t repulsed by him, why my body wanted him and only him.
While sitting there in silence, I was fighting against the memory of his hands on my body and the feeling of his tongue on my pussy. Fuck. I shook my head, as if doing so would automatically reset my mind.
I remembered every single detail from that night—every kiss, every thrust that made my body tremble. Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be feeding my mind with such thoughts, but I couldn’t help it.
The craziest part of this all was that now…I was fuckin’ wet. Dang it!
My panties were already soaked. He hadn’t even stepped out of the bathroom yet, let alone made an advance on me. I lowered my head in shame and rubbed my eyes, hating myself for being so weak and vulnerable.
The second I realized that the shower had stopped running, my heart stopped. I raised my head at the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, and there he was.
He combed his fingers through his wet hair as he stepped back into the room, steam swirling around his damp skin. A white towel was wrapped around his waist, leaving his upper body exposed.
I watched him quietly and discreetly, drinking in his ripped body—broad shoulders, chiseled abs, hard nipples, and a chest carved from stone. His body was mapped with scars, each one telling a different story I’d love to hear about someday.
His physique was masculine and fuckin’ attractive, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. In my head, I wondered if it was just me or if he’d somehow grown more muscular compared to the last time I saw him naked.
Everything about this man was pulling me in. And that’s how I knew I was done for. Considering how excited I was on the inside, he wouldn’t have to do a lot of work to get between my legs again.
I was so ashamed of myself for even admitting that, but it was the truth. Demyon had planted something in me that made it almost impossible to resist him. He’d carved his image into my mind, marking and branding me as his own.
At this point, I felt like I was a slave. Not just to him but to my own body, because I clearly had no control over it anymore.
The scent of shampoo and conditioner clung to his skin as he approached me, his bare chest catching my eye. When he halted a few paces in front of me, I dropped my gaze to the floor. I didn’t want him to see the desire in my eyes—didn’t want him teasing me with it.
As the silence between us stretched on, his gaze lingered, making me super uncomfortable. Finally, I decided to speak up, so I drew a deep breath and raised my head again.
“Happy now?” I asked, looking into his eyes, trying to muster all the courage I could find. “You did it. You got what you wanted. You won.” My voice was low, laced with a hint of despair.
“I always win,” he replied with a cocky grin.
A faint scowl flashed across my face, displeased by his arrogance. “I’m too tired to be angry,” I said. “Can you not be a dick for tonight, at least?”
He hesitated, retaining his smirk. “That depends.”
I raised my brows. “On what exactly?”
“Your cooperation.”
My heart skipped a beat, chest heaving slowly.
“It’s our first night as a married couple,” he said, his voice smooth and enticing. “As my wife, you’re obligated to—”
He was still talking when I rose to my feet, clinging to his arrogance and hoping it would quell my lust. “I’m not obligated to do anything,” I cut him off.
As I tried to move past him, he grabbed my hand, his hold firm enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Let go of me,” I said, wearing a plastic frown.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his husky voice sending tremors down my core.
I swallowed. “What thing?”
He pulled me to himself and wrapped his other hand around my waist. “The thing where you say one thing, and your body says something else.”
I locked my jaw, my pulse quickening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why is your heart racing?” he teased with a grin, his fingers caressing my face.
As soon as his skin collided with mine, something frozen melted inside me. My knees turned to jelly in an instant, and my breath hitched in my throat. “Demyon, I’m tired. Let go of me,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
He didn’t move, didn’t say another word.
When I tried to squirm out of his hold, the unexpected happened. In my clumsiness, my hand brushed against the folds of his towel, and the damn thing dropped to the floor.
Stack naked, he stared at me in silence, as if reveling in the look on my face. My brows rose at the sight of his cock, and my eyes widened in shock. I tried to look away, but couldn’t—it was like an invisible force had me glued to his groin.
He was clean-shaven down there, and even his balls were sparkly. His cap had turned pink, with veins streaking his hard length.
“Oh, God!” I exclaimed softly, covering my face with my palms.
“Leave God out of this,” he said, taking a step closer while I withdrew from him. “This is a couple’s affair.”
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t hold his gaze because my eyes kept flicking down to his cock.
“You like the view, don’t you?” he teased, staring into my face. “Don’t be shy. It’s yours.”
Wait a minute. Did he just imply that his body belonged to me? Was it like a mutual thing—I belonged to him as much as he belonged to me?
I stopped moving backward when my back hit the solid wall behind me. He halted in front of me with his palm on the wall beside my head.
“It’s déjà vu all over again,” he whispered in my face, his breath warm against my skin.
“Demyon…” I called softly, too weak to even speak.
“Shh.” He placed a finger on my lips as his eyes roamed over my body. “Save your strength. You’ll need it.”
My heart was pounding so loudly that I thought he could hear it. My sense of reasoning had abandoned me by now, and my brain was completely blank. At this point, I could no longer hide my arousal, and although he hadn’t touched me yet, I was already unraveling before him.
“You know I won’t take you without your permission, right?” He looked into my eyes, his voice smooth and enticing.
I hesitated, trying to pull myself together even though I was doing a very bad job of it. “Will…will you walk away if I say I don’t want this?” I asked, my voice low and trembling.
“Yes.” He looked straight into my eyes and added, “But only on the condition that your body agrees with you.”
I stared at him, speechless and confused. It was obvious that I wanted this, but my pride and shame were getting in the way.
“Go ahead,” he whispered, brushing my cheek with the back of my fingers. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Fuck you, Demyon.
“But before you do that.” His hand left my face and began slowly climbing up my thighs. “I want you to imagine me deep inside you…. Imagine how good that would feel.”
The sound of his husky voice and the sensation of his hand brushing my thigh stole my breath away. My pulse was racing, and my heart wouldn’t stop hammering in my heaving chest.
The higher he climbed up my tunnel, the more difficult it became to breathe.
“Demyon…” I whimpered, helpless and vulnerable.
“Go ahead,” he insisted, teasing me with his fingertips. “Say it.” He found my underpants. “I dare you.”
An abrupt moan fell from my lips when he slipped underneath my panties and swiped through my entrance.
A smirk lined the corners of his mouth. “Look who’s wet already.” He slid his middle finger inside me.