Pretty Sinner (The Oligarchs) - Page 3

He climbed up and started the engine again. I held on to him as he drove back to the beach. His body was hard and dangerous, and I knew he could kill me if he wanted. Nothing bad would happen—though Erin might be annoyed, and Darren would be angry, but none of that mattered to Kaspar.

I was at his mercy.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the salt spray. I leaned my face against his bare skin and tried to remember the first time we met. It felt like forever ago: I was a freshman at Blackwoods College and he was a senior. He looked at me then the way he still looked at me now, like he wanted to shove my face in the dirt and fuck me right then and there.

I didn’t think much of him that first time. He was handsome and popular and rich, and every girl on campus wanted a piece of him, but I knew Oligarchs already, and I was smart enough to stay away.

Unfortunately, he had other plans.

We returned to the beach. The staff took the jet ski and rode it toward his private dock while he dragged me past my chair, along the pool, and into the hotel-like sprawling maze of empty rooms and opulent furniture.

He took me to my room. It was well appointed with a separate lounging area and lavish details like Italian marble floors and Egyptian cotton sheets. I was used to luxury, and would’ve rather slept in a barn than anywhere Kaspar could get at me.

I stormed into the bedroom, still dripping wet. I didn’t care if I ruined his fancy rugs. He followed, keeping his distance. I tried to slam the door of the bathroom on him, but he wouldn’t let me. I grabbed a towel and began to dry off.

He watched, taking me in.

I hated the way he stared, like he couldn’t get enough of my body. I felt naked in my tiny white bikini—I might as well have been for all it covered.

“You hate it here, don’t you?” He spoke quietly and simply.

I stopped and looked at him. “Yes, I do.”

“You won’t ever be happy here.”

“Not with you, I won’t.”

He seemed to brush past that. “I thought bringing you somewhere nice and comfortable would ease you into this life, but now I wonder if that was a mistake. You’ve been pampered for too long.”

“You don’t know me.” Which wasn’t true. Kaspar knew me better than anyone, despite what I wanted.

“I’ve been easy on you, baby girl. I can be much worse.” He took a few steps into the bathroom, but stopped. “I’ve been kind to you so far. I’ve been nice and easy. All I ask is for your hand in marriage, and you know I’ll give you anything you want in return. I’ll make you happy. But you keep resisting.”

I could tell he wanted to close the distance between us. I backed away toward the massive tub and stared at him, trying to keep my breathing under control. If Kaspar wanted to break my neck and toss my body out a window, he could do it with zero repercussions, and he knew it. He’d killed before, and he’d kill again, and I didn’t want to become another one of his victims.

Except the alternative seemed worse.

I could give in and marry him. I could become the wife he desperately wanted, and then what?

I’d be trapped in this nightmare with a demon that worshiped me.

“I’m not going to marry you,” I said and tensed myself for a reaction.

He only nodded his head. “I think it’s time to go somewhere else. I’ve been keeping you from my plans, but maybe that’s a mistake. You need to understand what I am if you’re going to be my wife.”

“I don’t want to be your anything.”

“Pack your clothes. I’ll have the staff bring up some luggage.”

He turned to leave.

I stormed after him.

“What don’t you understand, Kaspar? I don’t love you. I’m never going to love you. Darren’s going to find you and kill you and—”

Kaspar turned faster than I thought possible and grabbed my hips, yanking me against him. I gasped as he kissed me and I struggled against his massive body, my breasts smashed against his muscular chest, his lips bearing down on mine like a mountain, invading, crushing, destroying.

He released me a second later and I stumbled backwards, breathing hard.

“Pack your bags,” he said, and left.

I watched him go. I touched my lips—and my fingers came back bloody.

2

Alice

Eight Years Ago

Blackwoods College

Everything about Penny Servant was a total bore.

Her clothes. Her taste in music. The way she wore her hair. Her incessant need to study for her stupid tests.

She was a freaking history major. What the hell kind of useless crap was that?

What did the daughter of an Oligarch need with freaking history?

Tags: B.B. Hamel Billionaire Romance
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