“That’s enough,” Sebastián rumbled, his voice heavy with disapproval. His thick fingers snagged the glass from my hand, setting it out of my reach. “We’re home, anyway.”
The limo had come to a stop. Dread dropped like a lead weight in my stomach.
“It’s my home,” I hissed, the slurred words laced with spite.
He blew out a long sigh. “I have to live here now too.”
“Have to?” My voice was strangely high-pitched. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m the one who doesn’t have a choice.”
“You’re forgetting that Stefano ordered this marriage. I didn’t want this.”
I scoffed. “You seemed to want it when you killed Carlos earlier.”
His low grunt rolled through the confined space, but otherwise, he didn’t respond. Instead, he opened his door and climbed out of the limo.
I froze, unable to force my limbs to move, to follow him into the house and face my fate.
The door opened beside me, and Sebastián offered his hand. Defiant, I brushed it aside and managed to clamber out of the limo on my own. I took three swerving steps toward the front door before the ground tilted beneath my high heels. Or maybe I was the one tilting. Alcohol swirled through my bloodstream, Champagne bubbles fizzing in my head and making me dizzy.
Strong hands caught my waist before I could tumble to the asphalt.
“I shouldn’t have let you drink so much,” he muttered. He released another long sigh, and the world spun. Suddenly, I was braced in his arms, my dress pooling around me as he held me close to his chest. He held me as though I weighed nothing. He was so strong. And soon, we’d be inside the house. Inside my bedroom. In my bed.
Tingles raced just beneath my skin, heightening my drunken dizziness. I closed my eyes and let out a groan.
Each of his heavy footfalls jostled me, making my brain slosh around inside my skull. Nausea rolled through me. I wasn’t sure if it was the Champagne or my mounting fear that was making me sick.
“Are you cold?” His voice was low and strangely soft. His calloused thumb rubbed my upper arm, and I registered goosebumps beneath his tender touch.
Was that clicking sound coming from me? I realized my teeth were chattering as cold seeped into my bones. Instinctively, I pressed my shaking body into his warmth, even though this immensely strong man was the cause of my fear. I was too drunk to reason through my actions, and he smelled good: woodsy and comforting. Like on the night he’d saved me.
Bright light seared my eyes, and my bedroom wavered around me as he sat me down on my feet. I wobbled, and he braced his corded arms around me. My hands flew to his broad shoulders, holding on for support.
“Take off those heels,” he commanded in a low rumble.
I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering and steeled myself. This was happening whether I wanted it to or not. And I couldn’t bear it if he forced himself on me, if he hurt me.
I won’t let anyone hurt you, he’d promised, right after he’d killed Carlos.
I believed his promise. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt me. He thought of me as his possession. He would expect me to yield to him, to give him everything.
I toed off my high heels, but I barely had time to register relief at the soft carpet beneath my aching feet before Sebastián’s thick fingers found the zipper at my back.
“Let’s get you out of this dress.”
A shudder wracked my body as the sound of the zipper grated down my spine. His warm arms caged me, searing heat against my frigid skin.
He braced one hand at the small of my back, tucking me against him and holding me upright. His other lifted to my face, two fingers curling beneath my chin, so I had no choice but to look up at him.
His dark eyes glittered as they searched mine, his brow furrowing. “Are you afraid of me?” The words were gravelly, but I understood.
“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely a whisper.
He stroked my chilled cheek, frowning. “You don’t have to be scared of me, tesoro. I don’t want you to be scared.”
My eyes burned. “But I am.” My voice was strained. I didn’t want to anger him, but I couldn’t help what I was feeling. The alcohol in my system robbed me of any control over my emotions. A tear slipped down my cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb.
Lines of strain appeared around his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But it will hurt. I’ve never…” I tripped over the admission. “I’m a virgin.”
His mouth opened in surprise, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Then, his lips pressed into a grim line. “I’m not going to have sex with you.”