Chapter Eighteen
She storms past us, but my glare doesn’t move from his.
It’s a pissing contest. I know it is. I can’t be the first one to look away, but he holds my gaze.
He mirrors my posture; his arms cross over his body and that smirk.
The tiniest little kink of his lip. I want to knock it off his face.
He’s a smug fucker, and if I could get away with it, I’d end him right here.
I know I need to assert my dominance, to force an understanding that he is the help and nothing more, but I’ve seen the way she looks at him; she softens for him.
I want that. And I hate that he has it and I don’t.
“You two fucking?” I snap.
He stares at me. The glint in his eyes. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. But he doesn’t acknowledge the question. He just glares at me. And honestly, I can’t tell if he is fucking her or if he’s just gagging to.
“Can I get you boys anything?” I turn and stare at the housekeeper, Marianne. Before my gaze flicks back to his, the smirk flicks a little more tauntingly as he claims this victory.
I turn and curtly reply. “No, thank you,” then storm out of there into the living room, straight to the liquor cabinet. Snatching a bottle of bourbon from the elaborate range of alcohol, I stalk upstairs fuming and chuntering as I go.
My plan is to go to my room, but my feet lead me straight to hers.
I don’t bother knocking. I’m too angry. I just aggressively throw open the door.
Pushing into the room. It’s empty. The blood boils, but then I can hear the shower running.
I huff out a breath of frustration, trying to reign in my emotions, but she seems to have opened the floodgates to them, and now they just won’t stop fucking coming.
So I turn and lock the door. I’ll keep that fucker out until we’ve sorted this mess.
Neither of us will leave this room until I know where I stand and that she’s mine.
Before I wander into the room, climbing up and taking a seat on the bed, getting comfy.
I sit against the headboard, propping the pillows behind me and lean against them.
I cross my bare feet at the ankles and tilt my head back.
Taking a drink from the bottle, intermittently passing the time while I stew.
I can smell her. Her scent permeates the room.
I just breathe it in. We’re pulling in different directions, a tug of war between our wants, needs and future.
I’ve just burned my world apart for her, and now…
this, whatever the hell this is? I feel like I’ve stormed into the middle of a relationship like I’m the other man.
This is not what I signed up for. When she wanted to get married, I thought she would be mine. I wasn’t expecting him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Her sharp voice cuts through the silence.
I leave my head tilted back, and I crack open an eye. “Drinking,” I mutter, bringing the bottle back to my lips.
“Yeah, I can see that,” she snarls from the door of the bathroom.
She’s wearing the world’s smallest fucking towel, and my traitorous cock jumps in my jeans.
I close my eyes again and let out a breath before taking another swig of the bourbon.
The warmth spreads through me, and I lift the bottle to take another drink, but I feel the bed dip, and she snatches it from my grasp.
“Hey,” I smirk out, but she steps back off the bed and chugs a couple of mouthfuls herself.
Letting out an exaggerated breath as she wipes the drip from her chin with the back of her hand.
She licks her lips, and I stare as she brings the bottle to her mouth again, her eyes train on mine as she tilts her head back and takes a long sip.
The towel falls off the back of her head, and her wet hair snakes out, uncoiling as it cascades down her back.
She takes another drink, and she rests her knee on the end of the bed as she leans over to pass me the bottle.
I don’t grab it, though. I grab her wrist and tug, yanking her onto the bed.
Her body crashes into mine as she squeaks, and the bottle clunks as it drops to the floor.
I don’t care. I hoist her until she straddles me, and she glares down at me as she clutches at her towel.
“I don’t wanna play games anymore,” I whisper as my big hands slide up her legs to her thighs.
I rub my thumbs back and forth just under the edge of the towel.
It’s ridden up and barely covers anything, and I know if I reach around, her ass will be hanging out, but I stare into her beautiful blue eyes. “Are you fucking him?”
It comes out more of a whisper than I planned. Those thick, long, dark lashes flutter before she stares at me with those big eyes and flutters her lashes again.
“Who?” she whispers.
My nostrils flare, and my grip tightens on her thighs. “You know who,” I snarl.
She bats those lashes again. “Luca?” She cocks her head to the side. It’s almost adorable if I weren’t fully aware of what she’s capable of.
I flick my hips and toss her onto her back. My body crashing down on top of hers as she snatches to hold the towel in place.
“Don’t play, Ari, I want to know what I’ve walked into. I want to know what your intentions are. I’ve burned my fucking world to the ground for you and what you promised me. So, I’ll ask again. Are. You. Fucking. Him.”
The defiance on her face makes me grit my teeth.
I clench my jaw. But her eyes soften the tiniest bit.
And I can’t hold back anymore, crashing my mouth to hers.
I slide my tongue across her lips as she opens up for me.
I slide it inside her mouth. It tussles with hers as her hands forget about the towel and slide around me, tugging me harder against her.
Her hands fist the fabric of my t-shirt as she moves the slightest amount under me.
I’m wedged between her legs, and her hips flick a little.
I rest the top of my body flush with hers, and I slide one hand up to her jaw, gripping it tight as I breathe into the kiss.
My tongue laves across hers, and I let out a tight groan.
Fuck, she kisses like she lives. She takes no prisoners.
She’s aggressive as she bites at my lip, and I groan again and buck my hips against hers.
I allow myself a moment to fall deeper before I pull back a fraction and stare down at her.
Panting, I rasp out. “What are we doing, Ari?”
She stares up at me. My heart’s pounding in my chest. Breaths deep and ragged.
She scowls at me for a split second before she grips me tighter.
She tugs me harder against her body and devours me.
Her lips crash against mine, her tongue forces its way inside my mouth, making mine submit to hers.
She grinds herself unashamedly against me, and grunts as her pussy rubs into my cock.
The jeans hard and punishing between us.
But her eyes light up. She grinds again, and fuck, I thrust back.
Her hands claw at my t-shirt as she drags it up over my head.
Yanking and tugging at it until I’m free, and tosses it on the floor.
I’m breathing heavily. Staring at her. I’m panting, and she bucks, catching me off guard.
Lifting her hips, and I roll off. I close my eyes and take a breath, trying to calm myself, but she straddles me, and I open my eyes to look at her.
The towel’s gone. She leans over me. Pressing in to kiss me as I stare up at her.
Her hand slides up my chest, caressing over my body as she wraps her fingers around my throat.
“I will do who I want, and I will do what I want. Once there’s a ring on this finger, I will be yours and only yours. Until then. You have no say in who I fuck,” she snarls at me. It’s all breathy and dominating.
She grinds her hips against me as she sits up.
keeping her hand on my throat as she leans into it and winds her hips, my solid dick weeps for her.
She rubs her body on mine. I slide my hands to her hips, digging my fingers into her skin.
I slide my hands to her hips, digging my fingers into her.
Making their way around to her ass, clawing at her cheeks, and I rock her harder against me.
Her eyes flutter, and she stares down at me as I grip her tighter, sliding her over me, back and forth, she rides me.
Grinding against me as her eyes sparkle with need, I buck up into her, wishing I wasn’t wearing my jeans.
But I’m pretty sure this isn’t about me.
So I let her ride me. I groan as my dick tightens.
She stutters out a breath, and I tug her harder over me, writhing faster as she lets out a little gasp.
Her eyes flutter closed. “Look at me,” I snarl. “I wanna see you come apart on me.”
I grip her harder, her tits bounce, and I wish I had more hands.
I hold her against me, I thrust up again, and she gasps.
Her eyes try to roll, but she stares into my gaze.
I bite down on my lip. My thighs bunch under her as she starts to cry out for me.
My balls draw up as her breath stutters before she holds it while she presses herself hard against me.
Coming undone, she screams out, and I roar out as I come in my fucking jeans.
She goes rigid against me. I drag her hips over me as she comes until she sags.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps out as I grind her into me. Until she goes limp. She flops down at the side of me.
“I accept your terms,” I force out. I stand and head to the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” She lifts up on her elbows. Her legs splayed open, the evidence of her orgasm seeping out of her and no doubt covering the front of my jeans. As I click open the door, I turn to her.
“To plan a wedding.”
I storm out of the room because fuck if I’m gonna give him a chance to be with her now.
She said once we’re married, she’s mine, so I’m not waiting.
I know it was supposed to be after the three months were up, once she’d taken over fully and was part of the Syndicate, that we were going to unite our families.
She would take her father’s place, but we both know now, after the attempted hit on her, that that will never happen.
I refuse to wait and potentially allow her to be with another man.
As I stalk through the house, his gaze meets mine.
I smirk at him. He glares at my lack of shirt, then his eyes flick to the front of my jeans, the way his eyes tighten, his jaw ticks and his nostrils flare.
I know he sees it, the evidence of her cum on me and probably mine seeping through, but his jaw clenches, tightening just a little more, and I grin. A shit-eating, fucking grin.
I shoulder check him as I pass him in the corridor and make my way to see Marianne, because what the fuck do I know about planning a wedding?
And I need this planned yesterday. I refuse to share her with him, and I refuse to play second fiddle to her fucking bodyguard.
I have to trust her word that once we’re married, she will cut off their relationship, however deep it may be.
Because I will not let it go on any longer.