Chapter 22
twenty-two
ROSE
My heart is still slamming against my chest when Dare casually drops into his seat. The driver gets in and shuts his door. The privacy window between the back and front is enough to save me humiliation when Dare says, “Never again, Rose.”
I look at him. “That was unnecessary.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re wrong.” Scooting closer, he gently grabs my left hand and draws it across my body, holding it up to my face in a way that makes it impossible for me to avoid noticing the massive diamond on my ring finger. “I told you to remember what this means.”
“I’m not yours.”
Still, the vetiver of his scent curls around me, murmuring words of seduction, teasing me with the prospect of belonging.
The devastating smirk cutting across his face makes my heart skip. “You are. ”
“I’m not a piece of property,” I snap.
“No, but you’re a Richardson, and no one, not even the great Joseph Miller, gets to hurt my family and get away with it.” He strokes his thumb over the back of my hand.
There’s something deeper behind those words. They strike through my defenses and speak to the little girl who always wanted family but only ever had her dad. They whisper promises of safety to the teenager who stood before the mirror, trying to convince herself she wasn’t worthless or stupid. That she was smart and strong. That she could be as powerful as her dad one day.
I know that Dad was doing what he needed to do to raise me right. As a teenager, I was defiant but too emotional. He made me stronger. He taught me how to work through being pathetic, so I would have the courage to stand as the majority shareholder of JD Miller & Co and face whatever the world threw my way.
Not only was Dare annoyed with my dad insulting me, he was so angry when he saw the marks. Enraged. As if my dad’s actions were wholly unacceptable. My heart clenching, I look at the beast next to me, wondering how he continues to make me question everything I’ve ever held to be true.
“Too loud,” he murmurs.
Swallowing, I search Dare’s face. “What did you whisper to him?”
“Do you really want to know?”
No.
“Yes.”
“I told him if he ever touches my wife again, I’ll kill him.” Dare’s lips ghost over the back of my left hand, but then he drops it, almost as if the act surprised him as much as it did me .
The rest of the ride back to his house is silent. Too quiet. The confrontation with my dad, the crack of his palm across my cheek, the way he almost threw up when Dare threatened him...it all plays over and over in my mind, but one memory is more vivid than the rest.
Dare forcing my dad to apologize, the retribution burning in his brown irises when he glanced at me and snarled my name as I tried to intervene. The fierce, almost feral, way he put my dad in his place, simply for daring to touch what Dare considers his.
The feminist inside of me hates the way Dare insists I’m his, but a sliver of my being revels in it. The Beast of NYC defended my honor. As terrible as he is, I can’t help looking at him differently.
If this is what it’s like to be his wife when he despises me, I can’t imagine what it would be like if he were to ever love me.
But there’s too much between us, and for the first time, I hate that we’re enemies.
A few hours later, I can’t get those words out of my head.
If you ever touch my wife again, I’ll kill you.
I don’t know why my mind seizes on them, but the way Dare pulled my dad across the desk, the way Dad’s eyes widened with fear, softens me to Dare. Then there’s Eric. Dare stumbled in and took in the mess, my face, the knife at Eric’s throat. And he didn’t question me. Didn’t try to reason with me. He saw what Eric had almost done and helped.
Dare saw what Dad did and made sure he knew exactly what would happen if he ever hit me again. He protected me in a way no one else ever has.
Sighing, I get off the guest room bed, thankful Dare’s given me privacy to work through my thoughts, and head to shower. I strip out of my clothes and step under the hot spray of water. As I wash my hair with the products I brought, the tension in my shoulders eases. A dark bottle that doesn’t belong to me snags my attention. Grabbing the body wash, I study the label. Midnight Vetiver. I lather up my body, avoiding the bruises on my arms, and breathe in.
My eyelids fluttering closed, I fight a soft moan as the rich, earthy, and smoky scent surrounds me. Creates a shield between myself and reality. So, this is what makes Dare smell so good. I sit under the spray of the water, simply basking in the scent, trying to extract every thought of him from my mind. It’s impossible. Maybe my mind is avoiding everything else, but Dare is all I can think about.
The way he wanted to protect me.
The way he pinned me down and made me come.
The way he gripped my throat to put me right where he wanted.
The way his fingers nimbly rolled over my clit.
There’s something addictive about his way. Desire curls around me the longer I think. My body warms as memories of him fucking and praising me tumble through my mind. The throbbing need in my center is hard to ignore. I’m desperate for him to bend me over again, which means I’m in trouble.
Maybe my vibrator can help work the thoughts out of my head.
I have to stay focused. One simple act of protection isn’t enough to replace a lifetime spent with my dad .
Inhaling one last time, I rinse the conditioner from my hair and turn the water off, squeezing as much of the moisture out of my long strands as I can. I slide the glass door open, steam billowing out of the stall, and realize my mistake. There’s no towel. Frowning, I glance around. I swore there were some in here earlier.
I eye the marble floor, knowing when it’s wet, it’ll be slippery, but I don’t really have a choice. Stepping out, I dry my feet on the bathmat. The air in the bathroom is too thick and moist to dry me off. Water drips from my hair and rolls down my skin, eliciting goose bumps.
Tiptoeing over the marble tile and leaving a trail of water in my wake, I carefully make my way to the door of the en suite. I walk into the bedroom, stark naked, only to find Dare sitting on the edge of the bed with a stack of towels beside him.
My eyes narrow. Asshole .
Dare’s eyes slide over me, darkening with desire, hooding when they trace over my breasts and drift down to my pussy. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and adjusts himself in his gray joggers.
Good to know I’m not the only one affected.
I don’t bother trying to hide my body. I don’t pick a fight. Wasn’t I just fantasizing about him? Is it a coincidence he’s here? I was going to use my vibrator, but he’d make such a pretty toy instead.
Touch my wife again, and I’ll kill you.
That’s my good wife.
What’s the point of being married if you can’t have sex? There’s no love between us, but there is lust. It’s pointless to deny it.
I take a step toward him .
He raises his eyebrows. That bottom lip is free of his teeth, a predatory smile slipping across his face instead. I take another step. He doesn’t move. Dare watches my approach, appreciation obvious in the way his gaze keeps slipping down my body, almost like he can’t help himself. Almost like he’s memorizing the moment.
Pride settles in my chest, sparking something inherently feminine within me. This man might hate me, but he’s also hard for me, and I bet if I sat on his face, he’d gladly eat me out.
That knowing helps me cross the room until I’m standing a foot away. Water rolls from my hair, down my breasts, and drips onto the floor between us. I gaze down at him. His blond hair is a little messy. Stubble shadows the line of his jaw. The scar cutting through his eyebrow begs to be stroked.
Slowly, Dare’s eyes lift to meet mine, but not before they pause on the marks on my chin and cheek. Some of that violence from before shimmers in his irises.
My cunt clenches at the sight, and the thrill of his possessiveness rolls through me. “Take your clothes off.”
The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, but he listens, pulling off his shirt with one hand. That movement that makes his muscles bulge is sexy in a way that shouldn’t be. Everything about him is sensual to me in ways that don’t make sense. Dare drops the shirt on the floor and reaches for his pants, lifting his hips and shoving them down, revealing his thick erection.
I swallow, not exactly surprised at how big he is, but it’s different with the lights on. I can see the vein that runs up the side. The glisten of pre-cum at his tip. The little slit at the top that begs to be licked. I’m also staring. But I don’t care .
Leaning back on the bed, Dare rests on his elbows and watches me watch him. My gaze drifts up the ripple of his abs, the hard pecs, over that perfect face, and up to his hooded, dark brown eyes.
He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t egg me on, save for the little quirk of his eyebrow. He’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Will I chicken out, or will I fuck him like a woman who knows what she wants?
Closing the distance, I place one knee on the bed and both my palms, glaring at him as droplets of water hit his smooth skin. “You took my towel.”
“I did,” he says with a wicked grin.
I crawl onto the bed. As soon as I’m straddling him, his hands find my hips, trying to tug them down, but I don’t fully settle down. “That was rude.”
“It was.”
“Are you going to apologize?” I sit, his cock nestling against my slit, and rock up his length, not at all ashamed of how I soak his length. He hisses. I do it again, grinding down and cupping my breasts.
“How should I do that?” He’s being so amiable, but I’m so horny, I’m not going to question it.
I tweak my nipples and rock over him again, watching as his irises flare. “I think you know how.”
“Say it,” he demands.
“No.”
He growls.
I smirk and glide one hand down my soft stomach to my clit. Circling the sensitive nerves, I gasp and glide my pussy over his cock again as I press into the touch. “This would be better with you inside of me.”
The grip on my hip tightens and he grinds against me. “Say it, Rose. ”
“Why?”
“Because I need to hear it.”
“You’re so bossy,” I tell him.
He chuckles, but it’s more devious than humorous. “If my wife wants me to fuck her, I want to hear her ask for it.”
Ah, yes. Dare and his power plays. It’s not enough for me to be wetter than I’ve ever been for any other man. He wants the bane of his existence to tell him just how much she needs him.
It’s only sex.
It’s not a big deal.
Dropping both my hands on either side of his head, caging him in for once, I lean over him, my breasts scraping over his chest. The position has the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. Humming, I lower my face toward his, bumping his nose with mine. “Fine. I want you to fuck?—”
Dare thrusts in hard, cutting off the rest of my sentence. “Fuuuuuck,” he groans, holding my hips as he buries himself inside me.
A soft gasp tumbles from my lips, and I rock back to meet him, moaning through the stretch of his sudden and delicious intrusion. Dare is so big, this position is almost too much. His cock grinds into my G-spot, distracting me from the fullness.
One of Dare’s hands finds its way around my throat, the grip steady but gentle. He brushes his lips over mine, murmuring, “Ride me, Rose.”
Who am I to deny him?
Starting slow, I roll my hips back and forth, adjusting to his thickness. His tongue sweeps over the seam of my lips, and I open, letting him in, despite a little voice inside my head screaming that I shouldn’t. I should keep some walls up, but as Dare’s tongue tangles with mine, demanding, coaxing, I ignore reason.
With my breasts smashed against his chest and his grip on my neck, fucking him is different than any other time I’ve had sex. The hand necklace is a reminder of how easily he could kill me, and also a reminder that he won’t. Not until he gets what he needs, and right now, he needs this as much as I do. Rolling my hips in a circle, the pads of his fingers flex at my throat as a pleased sound rumbles in his chest. My walls ripple around his length, flexing and squeezing. Dare’s teeth nip my bottom lip, and he devours the answering gasp like it’s his favorite thing.
Digging my fingers into his hair, I tug on his strands, delighting in Dare’s throaty moan. I break the kiss, moving my mouth to his ear. “That’s right, Dare. You like when I fuck you, don’t you?”
His palm cracks across my ass, and my hips surge up his length, cunt tightening in response to the sting.
I tug his hair again, earning another noise, and suddenly, I’m on my back. Dare slips out, but he slams into me again so fast, I don’t even get the chance to miss him. Hooking his arms under my legs, he tilts my hips and drives harder, deeper, but not faster. Though his movements are almost torturously slow, as he caresses the spot deep inside of me, my mouth parts and little sounds slip out.
Dare’s eyes rove over my face, then drop to where our bodies are joined, watching as he thrusts into me. I flex around him, and he grunts, his eyes flitting back to mine. There’s something gentle in his expression. Almost like he’s worried I’m going to break or like he’s trying to show me what it could be like under his thumb.
Dare grinds against my G-spot. Tingles shoot up my spine .
“Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“You’re going to come all over my cock, aren’t you?” He traces his thumb over my clit.
“Yesss,” I rasp, bucking into the touch.
He drops my legs and comes down on top of me, wrapping his arms around me as he cradles my head, tugging my hair back until my face is tilted and I have no choice but to look at him or close my eyes. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me hide. The way he cages me in is almost protective, or maybe that’s what I want it to be.
“My pretty wife,” he murmurs, thrusting deep again and again.
I hate and love when he calls me that.
My whimpers get louder. The depths of his brown irises are so endless, it’s terrifying, but he holds my gaze, unwavering as he takes me higher.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he says, voice so low I don’t know if he meant to say it out loud.
I search his face, eyebrows pinching together, but the fingers in my hair tug a little harder, exposing my throat before I can think too much about what he said. His teeth trace over my neck, and I shiver in response, pussy tightening around his length. And then the beast bites me, holding me in place as he ruts into me until I’m nothing but a moaning mess beneath him. Controlling me until stars burst across my vision and his name tears out of me in a throaty cry.
Quickening his pace, Dare fucks me through my orgasm and into his, his hot cum spraying inside of me, shocking another wave of pleasure through my system. The tiny sounds I make keep his hips moving well past the end of his climax. His tip grinds over my G-spot until I wrap my legs around his hips and writhe against him, panting as I chase another climax, clinging to Dare as he gives me more, hanging on until another orgasm shudders through me, ripping the last of my sanity to shreds.
Dare kisses my throat as I scream, sucking the sensitive skin, leaving a mark of his own, but unlike the bruises from Eric and my dad, this one I want to keep.