Chapter 21
ELSIE
We spent the entire day yesterday on the beach, only coming up for air when our stomachs told us we had to eat. Sophia loves the water as much as I do. Building sandcastles and swimming in the calm, cool water is what heaven must be like, if it even exists.
Michael sits with her on the sand as she buries him in it, giggling while he shakes his head.
“Better not get any in my mouth, princess,” he chuckles.
“Well, I didn’t exactly mean to last time.” She props a hand on her hip, fixing her pink sunglasses before picking up her shovel and dropping more sand around his middle.
“You look good down there,” I tease, biting into my bottom lip, because this man does all kinds of things to me.
But when he’s being a father…God, I just want to throw myself at him and kiss him hard.
He flips his sunglasses off his eyes, thick brows popping. “Keep talking, baby, and I’ll bury you with me.”
Please do.
“Uh-huh. Good luck catching me.” I laugh, starting backward, waving goodbye with both hands.
“Don’t fly too far, little dove,” he warns as his eyes narrow.
“Don’t worry.” I wink, and his nostrils flare. “You’ll always manage to find me.”
I turn around, glancing at him over my shoulder, his gaze haunting like matching flames, equal parts passion and fury. I like making him a little angry, knowing he’s probably itching to get his hands on me. And I like what he does to my body when I piss him off.
I head for the bar, needing something to cool me down, especially right about now.
Distance grows between us, and I wander toward the bar all the way at the end of the beach. I like walking. I never got to do that.
On the way, I pass by two guys, both around my age, sitting on some loungers with some beers. One starts to whistle real low.
“Damn,” he whispers when I’m right by them. “She’s fine as hell.”
“I think she’s with that guy,” another says, and I see him staring where I had come from.
“You married, sweetheart? ’Cause if not, I’ve got a private jet with your name on it.”
That’s when I pause mid-stride.
Did he say a private jet?
This is my chance to help Kayla. It has to be a sign. If I can somehow get myself on that jet and fly out of here, instead of pretending to be one happy family that we are not, then I can find my friend and the others. Or at least I can die trying.
“Uh, I’m not married,” I tell them, twirling my hair, the corner of my mouth twining up. “That’s my brother and my niece.” I giggle. “Where are you guys from?”
“Cali,” the one who whistled says. “What about you, pretty girl?”
“New York. You think you can fly me there?”
Hopefully, they don’t try to kill me.
“Hell yeah, I can.”
I quickly glance behind me, expecting to see Sophia and Michael where I left them. My pulse jumps.
Where are they? Crap. What if he saw me?
I face the two men again.
“Which room are you staying in?” the guy asks, his eyes wandering down my body, the red bikini not leaving much for the imagination.
I definitely can’t tell them that. “Uh, how ab—”
But suddenly, the color vanishes from the men’s faces. Their eyes practically explode as they stare behind me.
“You’d better stop talking to my wife before I cut your tongue out.”
I gasp, goose bumps spreading up my arms. His voice slinks up my back like a ghostly touch, an apparition that has arrived as though from thin air.
“Whoa…” The guy raises up his palms in defeat. “The lady said you were her brother. No disrespect meant.”
“Did she now?”
His arm sweeps across my lower belly, pinning me to his front.
“Tsk, tsk, little dove,” he whispers, warmth spreading like a caressing, yet deadly touch across my neck. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
His thick fingers bite into my hip while my heartbeats gallop up my throat. He sucks my earlobe into his mouth right in front of them.
“The punishment you’re going to endure at my hand for this…” His inhale is as harsh as the words pounding into the pit of my stomach with fear, entwined with insane desire.
My breathing grows tumultuous, because I know he means what he says.
“Pack up your belongings and get out of my hotel.” His tone is low and menacing; I tremble where I stand.
“What?” The guy who hit on me starts to get up, a snarl on his face. “We didn’t know she was your damn wife. We’re just trying to enjoy ourselves.”
“Are you deaf or just stupid?”
Michael moves me to his side, grabbing my wrist to keep me close while he draws a threatening step forward.
“I said…” he grits. “Get off my property.”
“Let’s just go, man,” his friend says, grabbing their towels and beers.
“Whatever…” He starts to rise. “I don’t need your shitty hotel anyway. Enjoy the crappy Yelp review I’m about to post for your piss-poor customer service.”
“You can write whatever you want about me.” Michael chuckles, but it’s a scary kind of laugh, the type that would scare even the bravest men. “But mention my wife in it and I’ll hunt you down, and your tongue won’t be the only thing I cut out of you.”
The man’s eyes go round as his friend drags him by the arm and they’re walking away.
Watching them go, I try to get my heart to a normal pace, but it’s impossible with Michael standing this close to me, anger seeping out of every pore.
He holds me like I’m his possession. Like he can’t wait to initiate his wrath.
His chest heaves as he watches them go, his free hand curling into a white-knuckled fist.
“What are you gonna do to me?” I swallow, scared to look at him.
He turns slowly, and now all I can do is stare into the eyes of my husband, the ball of nerves climbing up my throat. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself how stupid this plan was.
But we can’t go back. We can’t undo what we’ve done.
He grinds his jaw and grasps my chin. He lowers his lips until they’re a breath away from mine.
“Everything you deserve.” His words hold promises of what’s to come.
I grow shivery, yet hot, my skin tightening all over from his radiating gaze heating me from the inside out.
“You will pay for your actions.”
He presses his thumb to my bottom lip. My chest lurches with my panting.
“It’s the only way you’re going to learn what it means to be my wife.” He brushes the side of my face with his hardened knuckles. “No man will ever get to have you, not when you’re a Marino. I will end them before they even try. Do you understand me?”
His voice is a cocktail of masculine prowess, sending me further into a state of confusion, one where I’m not sure if I fear him or want him.
I nod, but barely, lips parted, inhales sinking me faster into whatever is happening between us.
“Good. Now, let’s go.” He brings his hand to mine and tugs me behind him, while I try to match his step.
“Where?” My voice is small, the ache between my thighs growing.
Because whatever punishment he has waiting for me, I hope it’s as good as when he held me down and made me come. I’ve been craving his touch since then, unable to forget it, consumed with the memories of his expert fingers turning on the switch inside me. One I didn’t know I even had.
“Back to our hotel room. Mabel has been instructed to keep Sophia occupied for an hour.”
“Just tell me what you’ll do to me.” I almost sound like I’m begging, following him off the beach.
He doesn’t say a word as he leads me back inside the hotel and inserts a keycard into our suite. His hand is at the small of my back, and I feel the heaviness of it. I’m struggling to breathe as he pushes me into the room so gently, like the sleeping beast before the attack comes.
My shoulders dart up and down as the door clicks to a close, the sound vibrating through the space. My hands go to my arms, and I run my palms over my sensitive skin.
With my back to him, I say, “All I wanted was to find my friend. That’s all. I promise.”
“And what were you going to allow them to do to you in exchange for that ride on his jet?” His tone is warm and gravelly against my ear, his lips dipping to my collarbone, teeth grazing my skin.
My heartbeats grow wild. Prickles line up my arms, my legs, everywhere.
“Were you going to let them touch what’s mine, little dove?”
He circles his hand around to my hip, fingers skirting down, dipping to the juncture of my thighs. He traces me there as I fight to control my groans.
“Answer me.” He cups my pussy like it’s his. Like he’s the only man who will ever touch it.
“I…”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I’d be willing to do for a chance to save my friend.
“You’re my wife,” he grits. “And I’ll treat you with the respect that comes with that title. But if you so much as let another man put a finger on you, I’ll deliver his heart to you as a wedding present while it’s still beating. Are we clear?”
I nod, my pulse thrashing, my throat going dry. I can barely move. Barely speak. Yet my core throbs, enjoying this side of him. Craving it, even.
“Let me hear you say it.” He rounds his other hand and cups my jaw roughly, snapping my head back to meet his fiery gaze. “Who do you belong to?”
“I…”
I have lost all ability to speak from that hungered look in his eyes.
“I belong to you,” I whisper, giving him the only answer there is to give.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Good girl.”
He constricts his hand around my throat until breathing becomes almost impossible.
“I’m going to help you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to, little dove, so that you never forget.” He kneads my core with the heel of his palm.
“How?” I gasp, my lungs heavy with lustful anticipation. “How will you do that?”
“Do you recall what I told you the last time my palm met your ass?”
His tone oozes with command, and I ache everywhere. For this man. For my husband. Wanting whatever punishment he deems worthy.
His fingertips leave my core, stroking down my spine and into the crook of my ass. He lifts the red bikini bottom with one digit and runs it against my bare behind. My toes curl. I’m so turned on, I’d let him do whatever he wanted.
“You…uh…you said you’d spank my bare ass if—”