"He put his hand on your back, didn't he?" I demand.
She rolls her eyes. "I pulled away."
"He whispered in your ear!" My grip tightens on her hips.
"I pulled away, Viktor!" she retorts.
"He kissed your fucking hand."
"It was nothing. Just a farewell."
"Who the fuck is he to you?" I swear steam is coming out of my ears. Did he touch her more than that? Did she let him into her bed? Did she call him daddy? The thought makes me want to rip him apart.
She reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pulls me down to meet her mouth. She’s trying to distract me with the intoxicating taste of her lips.
It works for a while. I lose myself in her, my tongue crashing past her teeth. But then I yank my head back, not able to let it go.
"Who is he to you?" I demand again.
"Viktor, please. We should leave the past in the past."
I haul her effortlessly over my thighs. The car sways as Marcus pulls onto the highway, and I focus entirely on her body beneath mine, fighting off the nausea from the moving vehicle and the jealousy in my gut.
Smack.
The sound of my open palm striking the silk over her rear is loud.
"Who. Is. He. To. You?" I growl against the back of her neck.
She gasps, her fingers digging into the fabric of my pants. "We used to sleep together!" she cries out. "It was casual! Years ago, before I ever knew you!"
A feral groan rips from my throat. My mind conjures images of her in his bed, and it pushes me into an uncontrollable rage.
"Casual," I echo. I’m dying. This must be what death feels like.
I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I pull down her panties, stripping them completely off her legs. "You don’t want to talk about the past? Then you don’t get to speak at all."
I stuff the lace past her lips. She bites down on her own panties, her hips twitching restlessly against my thighs. I rain another stinging blow down on her skin, right through the high slit of that dress.
"Look at me," I command as I tilt her face up by her chin, forcing her brown eyes to lock onto mine. "Tell me exactly who takes care of you now. Tell me who you belong to. Who your daddy is."
She can't speak through the gag, but the desperate heat in her gaze gives me the exact answer I'm burning for.
"That's right," I whisper. "Daddy's the only one who gets to touch you. And if I ever see another man's mouth on your hand, I'm going to remind you of that a hell of a lot worse than this."
But the jealousy won’t stop.
It just won’t.
I bunch her dress in my fists and lift it all the way up to her waist, exposing her entirely to me. I spread her ass cheeks so I can see everything, but Valentina shakes her head frantically, trying to struggle. I don't let her. I just want to stare at her prettiest, most private places until they are burned into the back of my eyelids.
"Why are you struggling, baby?" I mock-soothe. "Are you shy now? After letting him put his hands all over you in front of the whole world?"
One of my fingers rests over her tight asshole, and the other on the opening of her cunt.
The vow.
The vow.
