Chapter 2
Saffron
The car ride was silent. A wedding band flashed on my finger, catching the streetlights we whisked past as Tyler drove the car through the busy nighttime New York streets.
I didn’t expect to marry him there and then, but as soon as the auction was over, I was ushered into a room where an officiator was waiting.
Soon Tyler entered the same room, and we exchanged vows, signed a pre-nup, a marriage contract, and now here I was, driving to my husband’s place.
I barely spoke a word throughout the entire time except when we exchanged vows.
I was stunned and could barely say a word to Tyler, much less ask him why he married me.
I tried to gather my thoughts so I could form a coherent sentence as he drove down the road, his powerful hand shifting gears of his manual sports car.
There was something irresistible, sexy about a man in control of a powerful machine.
It woke a primitive part of me I had tried to suppress for years but was now coming out in full force, and I hated that the man next to me was the one responsible.
We arrived at his TriBeCa loft sooner than I wanted.
It was a beautiful place. The type I would expect someone with an eye for style like Tyler to stay in.
The exposed brick paired with the exposed trusses, arch windows, and wooden beams gave the deceptively minimalistic place warmth.
There was an open floor plan of the kitchen, living room, and dining on the first floor, which we entered from the private elevator.
But the sunken court, which connected to the planted green roof garden above that one could see through the glass roof, was the key feature of the loft.
At night, the court gave the place a glimpse of the starlit midnight sky, turning the apartment into a romantic mood. If only what was happening between Tyler and me was anything close to it.
“Nice place,” I said as I came to stand in the middle of the living room.
Tyler dropped his keys into a wide bowl on the kitchen counter, took off his coat, and draped it over his arm, leaning against the wooden counter.
I did the same and took off mine and dropped it on the couch, still self-conscious about the sheer lavender dress I had on.
I thought I saw him draw in his breath, but the sneer marring his handsome features made me second-guess myself.
He probably thought the dress was ugly. I rubbed my hands down the skirt.
“It’s kinda awful, I know, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. ”
He didn’t respond. He stared at—no, glared at me as though I was an intruder and not the guest he had brought.
“I would have chosen something less… childish, if it were up to me. Did I tell you how nice this place is?” I was babbling.
I never babble. His intense gaze made me nervous.
I took a deep breath and tried my best to clear my mind. “Why did you marry me?”
“Did you have another beau in mind? Sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting another bidder? A Russian mafioso? Or maybe a man about to croak, perhaps?”
I rolled my eyes. “And what were you doing there? Are you having a tough time getting a woman to marry you?” In an effort to seem more nonchalant than I was feeling, I glided around the loft, taking in the round dining table that was at the far end of the room.
“So, are you going to tell me why I am here? And not nursing a cancer patient?”
He chuckled, but there was no humor in his laughter.
Tyler threw his coat onto the couch next to where I stood.
The cloth landed softly on leather. Like a low-pitched alarm, the sound alerted me to face him again.
He sneered at me—a look that should have marred his handsome features but made him all the more menacing, as though he held his anger barely on a leash.
A small part of me, the childish part of me, wanted to appease him and hated that he was angry at me.
The more mature part, the part that was jaded to men like Tyler, knew that my mere existence ticked him off.
If he was angry with me when I did nothing wrong, then that was his problem.
“Your father didn’t tell you?”
Dad had gone on and on about my need to pull my weight in the family business.
It was failing. Had been failing for years, and instead of selling it when he could have made billions, he had driven the value further down with meaningless investments.
It was because of his folly that it was on the brink of collapse, and yet he wanted my help.
Tyler Hawthorne was never part of the conversation. “He said nothing about you.”
Tyler scoffed. “He wanted me to buy you.”
“Why?”
“I assume he wants money.”
“I mean, why you?”
He shook his head. “Either you’re too dumb to be aware of what your father did, or you want me to believe you had no idea that he was going to do this. I’m sorry, the first is too stupid to contemplate, and I don’t buy the second.”
“Tyler. I am serious. I had no idea he asked you to—”
“Asked.” His harsh laughter startled me. “My god, you’re delusional. Fine.” A dark cloud hung over him. “I might as well get what I paid for.” He removed his jacket and threw it over his coat. His cufflinks were next. They clattered onto a side table next to him before he untied his bowtie.
“Uh, Tyler…”
He paused just as he was unbuttoning his shirt.
“Any problems? I’ve just paid an eye-watering sum to shackle myself to a spoiled little princess for the privilege. I should get something out of it, don’t you think?”
“Y—you mean…” I cleared my throat, losing my voice. “You want to have sex with me?”
“Isn’t that what husbands and wives do?” He continued unbuttoning his shirt casually. My breath hitched in my throat. I could not tear my gaze away from his body, try as I might. The air in the room tightened. “What are you doing?”
He paused. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, say the word, and I will drive you back to your place.”
The word no should have been on the tip of my tongue. But learning that Tyler wanted me drove the shameless part of me to discover how much and how long he had desired me. “Is that all you want?”
His piercing glare undressed me, desire evident in his eyes. A smarter person would have fled, but I never considered myself smart. I run towards danger, not away from it.
“Pretty much,” he said.
“Is that why you bought me?”
“You’re cute, darling, but you’re not worth fifty million dollars.”
“And yet,” I threw back.
He scoffed. “You make your father force me into buying you at some sordid auction and then loop around to claim I did it because I want you?”
Make my father? I’ve never been able to convince my father of anything, let alone… “What did my father say to you?”
“I have better things to do than talk about that crusty old man. If you don’t want to fuck, then let’s call it a night.”
Tyler re-buttoned his shirt, his beautiful chest slowly disappearing.
“Wait.” I closed the small distance between us. My hand grazed the gap exposed by the white fabric. He was warm and almost hairless. Just as I imagined him all those years ago when I was a teenager. Just as I imagined, even as I got older.
My fingers slid down to the next button. I undid it. My body moved of its own accord. Nothing else but desire long suppressed was in command.
He growled when I undid the next button and the next and then ripped his shirt off. My hands slid down his chest. He was like a bronze god—his body designed to entice mere mortals like me.
Tyler was looking down at me through hooded eyes framed by thick eyelashes.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said before kissing his left pec.
He clasped my hands in his, pausing my caress. “Is that a yes?”
I nodded. A low rumble reverberated from deep in his chest before he bent and kissed my neck, licking, biting, likely leaving a mark.
His hands went to my dress, running over my body, gripping and caressing.
Or I thought he was caressing until he grumbled and then ripped it off me.
“Where the fuck is the zipper?” he said and tore the dress to shreds.
I gasped as the flimsy material floated down in several pieces around me.
“I never want to see you in that thing again.”
His tone was harsh. Almost… angry? But I didn’t have time to dwell on that peculiarity because he took my hand and dragged me to the kitchen counter, where he bent my body face forward onto the surface.
A thrill ran down my spine when his hands made contact with my butt, and I heard more than felt his hand ripping off my panties.
The thrill accelerated when his fingers danced around my clit, caressing the nub before delving into my wetness.
“You’re drenched,” he said in my ear. I reached behind him to touch him, but he slapped my hand away and shoved it on the counter.
The move should have been rough, but he held me in a gentle manner that was both comforting and confusing.
But I had no time to contemplate what that meant because he was driving me crazy with his strokes.
Electric pulses shooting from my clit spread all over my body until I was sure I was about to come.
That’s when he withdrew his hand. The sound of a belt buckle clicking, the rustling of clothes, and my own ragged breathing filled the quiet apartment.
Ripped foil and the snap of latex, and a few moments later, he thrust inside me.
His cock filling me—thick and long. A moan left my lips.
It had been a long time since I’d been with someone.
And never with anyone as big as him. He paused, his hand caressing my back.
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was letting me adjust to his girth.
I pushed my body back against his, and he began thrusting.
His hands held my waist in a vice grip as he drove into me.
My nipples rubbed against the counter as he set a relentless pace—a fuck meant to punish.
But pity him because I was with him all the way.
My hands and face were flat against the countertop, afraid to make a move or he would stop.
That seemed to have been the instructions anyway when he slapped my hand away.
And I didn’t want him to stop. I’ve never felt like this before.
I’ve never been at the mercy of someone and loved every minute of it.
He fucked me so hard I thought I was going to faint.
But that’s not what happened. Instead, my legs shook as my pussy milked his cock, tremors running through my body.
My knees buckled, and I had to grip the counter so I would not fall, but Tyler’s grip was so strong that would not have happened.
Was that how it felt to orgasm with someone else?
I expected him to come soon, but he withdrew out of me, lifted me in his arms again, and placed me on the loveseat.
He sat beside me, lifted me by my waist, and swung me onto his lap.
I slid down onto his cock, facing him. His face was taut and blank of any emotion.
My pussy was still sensitive from the orgasm, but I rode him regardless.
My knees scraped the sofa, my hands on his shoulders.
He was impassive as he watched me ride him.
The only thing that betrayed his emotions was the way his hands held me.
His tight grip showed how he was barely holding his control.
“Fuck, Tyler,” I whispered as another orgasm came close.
I leaned down to kiss him, but he moved his lips away.
Okay. No kissing, then. Suddenly he whipped me around until I was lying on the couch and he was on top of me.
He fucked me relentlessly, thrusting so hard as though he was exorcising a demon.
My legs trembled as a wave of ecstasy washed over me.
Tyler pinched between his cock and his balls as he withdrew.
Still hard. Still, he had not come. Before I could ask if this was normal, he got up, dragged me to the stairs.
I thought we were going to the bedroom, but he stopped in the middle, bent me over the glass rail, and fucked me there again.
And again, on the steps. And again, at the door of his bedroom.
My tits on either side of the frame, my hands holding onto the door handles.
Finally, when I thought I could not take any more orgasms, he came and immediately withdrew out of me.
Tyler stumbled onto the bed. With one hand behind him, he removed the condom with the other. Cum dripped onto the terracotta-tiled floor as he said breathlessly, “That’s it. I’m done with you.”