One who knows all my weaknesses.
“Come here, Catriona.” His voice is dark velvet, each word dragging over me like a warning caress, settling deep in my chest, weighing me down in the seat. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I instinctively inch away from him, only to have his hands enclosing my hips and pulling me back until I’m pressed against his side. The scent of his warm skin, the heat from his fingertips… It’s so overwhelming that it makes my head swim with thoughts of thunderstorms and woodsmoke. I try to breathe, but I only take more of him in, clouding my thoughts with panic.
I shove hard against his chest, but he’s immovable. His muscular body may as well be made of granite for all the good it does. “I agreed to marry you, not that I’d fuck you again, youbastard. Don’t do this, O’Connor, or I will—” Thepleaseis at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t force it over my lips.I refuse.
“You’ll what? Fight me? Go ahead, I’d love to see you try.” His thumb brushes over my lower lip, and his eyes are glued to his touch. Something in his stare makes my stomach twist, like it’s filled with poisonous snakes. Something dark. Something possessive. “In fact, I’d almost prefer it.”
A whimper claws out of my throat. “If you make me do this, I’ll make you regret it.”
He chuckles softly, the sound low and sinister, vibrating through the confined space like the rumble of thunder from a distant but devastating storm. “Then you'd better make it good.”
“Fuck you, I?—”
Before I can finish, he reaches into a pocket, and my breath catches, expecting him to pull out a weapon to threaten me, put a knife to my throat or a gun to my head. But he takes out his phone. My brows furrow as he unlocks the screen and taps until I see my father’s contact card.
“You wanted this.Youcame tome. But if you’re getting cold feet after your little master plan, we can fix this right now. I could make one call and have it all sorted in a few hours. The fact that I’m even entertaining bringing you home is a favor to you. What you should really be doing is thanking me.”
The fear I’ve always managed to suppress with bravado coalesces into a weight on my chest. When I manage to speak, it’s only to croak out, “Stop,” but of course he doesn’t. His thumb hovers over the call button, his eyes never leaving mine as my panicked thoughts swirl around my skull. If I thought my situation was bad before… it’s nothing compared to this.
He leans closer again, his lips brushing against my ear as silence finally descends. “Would it help if I told you I’ve dreamed of you? How you felt around me? How greedy I am to have you again? No? That’s okay. I promise I’ll make it good for you.”
He leans back again to study my face, and I don’t know what I look like, but I imagine my expression is a combination of shock, horror, and dread. I try to control the urge to wrap my arms around myself and hope he can’t see my limbs trembling.
“But first, you’re going to make it good for me.”
Make it good for him? Of course. It’s another game to him, isn’t it? I’m here for his amusement. He’s got me. My future now hinges on this man. He could call my bluff in an instant, and he’s right, this would all be for nothing.
Am I willing to be his little pet again to get what I want?
I close my eyes, my breath coming in sharp bursts as I try to find some semblance of control, but it slips through my grasp like water.
“Look at me,” he demands, and my eyes snap open. I don’t have a choice. I don’t think I have since the second I saw him again.
He leans in closer, his mouth inches from mine. “You aren’t going to fight me, are you? We can’t have that.”
“I’ll do what—what you want.” I lick my too dry lips and meet his mercurial gaze. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Everything in me screams to resist, to claw at his eyes, to shove him out of the car, but the mess I’ve gotten myself into may as well be a guillotine, ready to drop the second he commands. I’ve traded one monster for another—and this one has me by the throat.
Even seeing the immovable will in his face, I hesitate, and he says, “You said you’d get on your knees for me. So get on your knees.”
My brows pinch together until I remember. I’d told him that night of the dinner that I’d do whatever he wanted—including getting on my knees for him—if he’d marry me. I guess he’s calling my bluff.
My hands are shaking as I comply, the material of my dress biting into the soft flesh, my face blooming with the red heat of shame. I could beg some more and try to find the magic words that will make him see reason. But I know there’s no combination in the English language that can sway Aiden O’Connor away from something he wants, and until I have the leverage to make my escape, my only choice is to do what he wishes.
He adjusts his position in the seat, lifting his hips, spreading his legs in that arrogant, masculine way that oozes dominance. He tangles one hand in my hair, the fingers sifting through the long strands, tugging at them gently until goose bumps pepper my skin. The other is behind his head, cradling it as he watches me with hooded silver eyes. A handsome devil and I’m ready to do his bidding. The perfect little doll for him to pose and play with.
I hate him so fucking much. Almost as much as I hate that I can’t walk away.
When I hesitate at the buckle of his trousers, the hand behind his head moves to guide mine over his hardness. I gulp as I feel the solid length of him, the heat searing against my palm. I’d made myself forget how big he was. Big enough that my belly tightens at the thought of having it anywhere inside me again.
“Don’t make me wait,” he warns idly, as his finger twists my hair in circles. I do my best to ignore the way it sends shivers down my spine. “Show me how perfect you can be for me.”
Shifting away from the sensation, I move instinctively. His hand falls from my hair to lock behind his head, every inch the indolent god. I slide the strap of his belt out of the buckle, tugging until it comes loose from the prong, then separating the two until I can pull it out of his belt loops. A glance up shows him darting his tongue out to wet his lips, and I look away just as quickly. A few jerky movements later and his suit trousersare unbuttoned. The sound of the zipper sliding down the teeth seems unreasonably loud in the quiet of the back seat.
He lifts to accommodate me as I struggle to shift his pants and briefs down his hips, and then his cock bobs out, hard and long, bigger than I remembered and already weeping translucent pre-cum at the tip. It glides down his hardness, sleek in the glint of the passing lights. A hiss of pained arousal greets my ears, and I swallow back a gasp, feeling the heat of hatred burn low in my belly at the thought of him getting any enjoyment from this.
