Vian #2
She takes another sip but doesn’t break eye contact. I want to be the center of her focus. Nibble, kiss, lick every inch of her.
I have been hard for the last several hours, and it’s getting difficult to keep my lust contained.
Sitting across from her, I cross my legs to hide the hard-on.
I get lost in the sight of her, but then she clears her throat and puts the glass down, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling window to look at Chicago spread below us.
She looks at me over her shoulder. “While I agreed to stay with you in Chicago, I must return home whenever I need to.”
“No problem,” I say, not hiding my disappointment.
I rule Chicago, but a king who leaves his kingdom unsupervised for too long is prone to lose it. And I can’t afford that. It’s my father’s legacy. It’s the empire I expanded with unfathomable success. What I want to give my child one day.
She turns around to face me and tilts her head. “You’re very agreeable.”
I lean back and tap my thigh. “Nothing is for free.”
“So, what do you want, husband?” She licks her lips, making my cock weep for her.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the growing ache. When I open them, I find her smiling. Does this minx find tormenting me amusing? Soon it will be time for payback.
I cock my brow, dragging my lower lip through my teeth. “You know exactly what that is. You.”
“Why?”
“You’re a stunning woman. I like your company, which I can’t say about the rest of humanity.”
I pull another giggle from her, and she returns to the sofa as if she can’t stop seeking my nearness.
She sits inches away from me, relaxing into the cushions as I continue. “I am convinced it’s your brain stopping you from giving in to the impulse. Afraid it will be too good and make your first love pale in comparison?”
The atmosphere changes as she stabs me with a cold look. “You overestimate yourself.”
I brace my arm on the back of the sofa, gripping the fabric as eagerly as I want to sink my fingers into her. “It’s a fact. One I will prove to you sooner rather than later.”
“Wow, your ego paired with your cockiness... it’s a wonder you haven’t sprouted a mane and started strutting around like the king of the jungle.”
She takes another sip and places the empty glass on the coffee table.
“I will conquer you, Zara. One step at a time. I will dismantle every wall, and you will resign yourself to your fate,” I say, my voice dripping with steel determination.
A tremor passes her. “And that would be?”
“To be mine.”
Fuck, retreat. It’s too much, too soon.
We were together for four years, apart for another four, hell replacing paradise in a blink. I will cause the fucking apocalypse on earth if I don’t get to spend the rest of my days with her, but I doubt even eternity could cure me of craving her. Loving her. Yearning for her every waking moment.
She rolls her engagement ring on her finger, catching my attention and calling up a memory.
I designed it especially like that, so she would have something to focus on when her brain took over.
We weren’t in a hurry to get married, something I regret now.
She wanted to finish college; I wanted to step out of my father’s shadow.
Back then, there was no hurry. Everything was simpler.
No lies. No hurt. No doom trailing after us, darkening the bright future we envisioned.
“Should we announce the happy news to the underworld?” I suggest, before the past swallows me whole.
“Why not.” She shrugs and inches closer as I type a message in the group chat with Rafe and Tristan, my closest friends, including a photo from the wedding. I forward the same image and message to the Syndicate.
Let’s begin with congratulations,
comes the reply from Kieran.
Interesting, and what he said,
says Cameron.
It was time,
says Cato.
Convenient,
says Hayden.
Why doesn’t it surprise me? You must copy me in everything,
texts Tristan.
Zara rolls her eyes at his reply. No one can match him in his arrogance.
I expected at least an invitation,
says Rafe.
You don’t even like weddings.
So what?
“So dramatic,” she mumbles.
Her nearness short-circuits my reason, erasing any thought other than her. I place the phone down beside me, sure I will face an entire interrogation during our poker night, which coincides with me hosting it.
“Will you keep doing business with brACON and the Council?” I ask her, even though I already know the answer.
“Yes, it was one of the reasons I married you.”
I palm my chest in fake hurt. “I feel used.”
She rolls her eyes at me and folds her hands in her lap. “No wonder you’re best friends with Rafe. You both have a penchant for drama.”
I arch a brow that only makes her smile before she frowns as if she can’t believe she does it. “I’ll deal with the Syndicate.”
Trying to stay focused on the topic is a feat when all I can think about is erasing the space between us, kissing the breath from her lungs, and feeding her my madness.
“I don’t need a man to fight my battles,” she says. “I didn’t even want a husband.”
In a flash, I wrap my hand around her neck and tug her even closer, my breath fanning her lips.
“But you wanted me, didn’t you, wife?” She flinches, and I continue, driven by the urge to make her see me, fucking realize who I am to her.
“Let me be fucking clear. You’re my woman.
Mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to support.
You needing me is irrelevant, as it won’t stop me.
In our world, a powerful alliance makes the difference between life and death.
You’re a smart woman, Zara. You wouldn’t have proposed it without considering all aspects.
Throughout humanity, marriage has fulfilled one role.
Ours won’t be different,” I snicker, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
“You’ll get an heir. We grow stronger. It’s a situation that is mutually beneficial, so why do you look pissed?” she asks, her tone laced with irritation.
Shooting up, we get in each other’s faces, both of us breathing heavily as the air between us thickens, the tension suffocating.
“To get that, you would have to let me between your legs first, but you’re too busy mourning your dead fiancé,” I snap, gnashing my teeth not to lose my damn sanity.
She pushes at my chest, hard, but I remain unmovable. “Don’t, Vian.”
I pin her with a hard look just to hide my sorrow. “Fulfill your duty, Zara. Forget about him. Remember, he can keep your heart, but your body is mine.”
“Such a gentleman,” she mumbles.
I grip her hands, caressing her palms to hold on to her while despair spreads its talons around me, sharp claws poking holes into my being. “Stop hiding. I don’t buy the act. You’re too afraid to see what lies between us. Be wild with me. I won’t judge.”
For a second, her eyes soften, looking at me just like in the past, like I am crazy, but she’ll be crazy with me. Then hardness replaces it. She pulls her hands away, taking a step back. “I will head home.”
I drag a hand down my face, the fight leaving me. “This is home.” At least I hope it will be now that we’re together.
“Not for me.” She storms away, creating a path of ashes behind her, leaving me to inhale the smoke of dead promises.
Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to go like this. It’s the first day of us being married, and I am failing spectacularly.
At the elevator, I catch up with her, and curling my hand around her elbow, I spin her around. “It would look bad.”
I can’t believe I uttered that nonsense, and she huffs, letting me believe she thinks the same.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I confess, not caring that I sound weak.
She jerks her chin at me, yanking her arm away. “So what? Are you going to force me to stay?”
I shove my hands into my pockets not to maul her, conjuring my least threatening voice. “No. But I would very much welcome it if you’d stay. Of your own accord.”
She crosses her arms, staring me down. “No.”