Fuck, life is going to suck if I really have to marry this guy.
“Are you even fucking listening to me, Tash?”
I hate that nickname. No one calls me that. I’ve asked him to stop, but he ignores me, so I finally gave up. Because a proper Mafia wife never questions her husband.
“I’m listening.” I sound like a mouse. My voice is small. I wish I had the nerve to speak up, to tell him that I’m standing six inches away from him, andof courseI’m listening.
But I wouldnever.
“I want to take you to Rapture tonight.”
I barely suppress a sigh. He mentions this almost every single time I see him. Theclubisn’t a dance club or a bar. No, he wants to take me to Rapture, which he’s already told me about in great detail, several times. It’s clearly his favorite place in the whole world, and every time he brings it up, I want to roll my eyes. It’s obviously athingfor him.
Rapture is a high-end sex club. And I have no intention of having sex with this man until it’s absolutely necessary, which I’m hoping is never, but I suspect it will happen no later than our wedding night.
Just the thought fills me with dread. I’m not attracted to Elliott. Sure, he’s handsome. Tall and dark with a muscular build. But he has meanness in his eyes. His palms are always sweaty, and he reeks of whiskey.
Not sexy.
“I’m tired?—”
“You’re always fucking tired. Jesus, is this what it’s going to be like to be married to you? Boring, frigid, and useless?”
Pretty much. Get used to it, buddy.
“I’m just ... it makes me uncomfortable.” The last word is said on a whisper.
“What does?” he asks as he slides his palm down my arm and squeezes my hand. He’s trying to be comforting, but I don’t like being touched by anyone, most of all my fiancé. “What makes you uncomfortable, beautiful?”
I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want him to hit me. Again. That seems to be his go-to when he’s frustrated with me, and my cheek still aches from the last time.
“Tell me.”
“Watching people have sex makes me uncomfortable.”
I don’t meet his eyes. I can feel my cheeks burn.
“You’re going to have to get used to it because I like it there, and I go often. Unless you want me fucking other women, you’ll go with me, and you’ll do what I say when we’re there. You’ll learn to like it.” He tips my chin up, leering down at me. His eyes drop to my cleavage, and then up to my mouth. “Besides, you’ll be with me, and I won’t let anyone else touch you. Unless we invite a third, of course.”
He smirks, and I almost wince at the thought.
“Butyou’lltouch me.” The words are out before I can snatch them back, and he narrows his dark eyes on me.
That was the wrong thing to say.
He looks so much like his father. I’ve only seen Julian a few times since that first meeting. When Papa first said that a marriage had been arranged, and I thought it was to Julian, I didn’t freak out. He’s handsome. He seemed ... calm. Steady. He didn’t make my Spidey senses tingle with dread.
But then his son walked in, and that calm flew right out the window. Elliott is not like his father. After spending a month with my fiancé, that’s plain to see.
“Yeah, Tash.” His fingers slide along my neck and into the back of my hair, and it gives me the heebie-jeebies. My firstinstinct is to pull out of his grasp, but that’ll only make things far worse for me. I manage to keep my face stoic as he moves in closer. “I’m going to touch you. I’m going to run my mouth all over you and fuck every hole you’ve got until you’re a bloody, cum-covered mess. Because you’remine.I own you.”
I shiver at that, and not because his words are sexy. No, they’re said with a sneer, with malice, and his hand fists harder in my hair, pulling my head back.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.”
“And if I say no?” I hate how shaky my voice is.
“You don’t get to sayno.” His nose is almost touching mine. His voice is so hard, and there’s so much anger and violence in his dark eyes. “Didn’t you just hear me say that I can do whatever the fuck I want?”
