Damaged Queen (Darkness Within Duet 2)

She held a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was forced. For a woman who was going to marry this man, there was no love there.

Draven sat back.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happe—”

“Are you here on a date?” she asked, interrupting him.

“Yes.”

“Then I really think you should go back to your date, Ethan.”

“You’re just going to leave it like that?”

“I left the ring for you. I didn’t force you to marry me, and I’m not there to be the perfect little wife you want. Besides, I’m on a date.”

She turned her smile toward Draven.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Draven said, holding out his hand.

Ethan shook it, and he noticed he didn’t even have a firm grip. That wouldn’t do, not for Harper. She could probably crush him.

“You were cheating on me?” Ethan asked.

“No.”

“I’ve been in Harper’s life since we were kids. We had a … quarrel some years back, but now we’re together. She’s also agreed to be my wife,” Draven said, taking her hand. “We’re going to have the most beautiful children.”

She was shooting fire at him.

It was a good job that nothing could spill from her eyes as he’d be burnt to a crisp, scalded from her look alone.

Ethan watched them, and it took him a few moments to realize he had to leave.

When he stepped away from the table and back to his date, Harper looked a little sad.

Draven didn’t like that, not the jealousy that spilled out or the need to show her who she belonged to.

****

Draven slammed her against the door of their hotel room.

“You did that on purpose,” Harper said, glaring at him.

He grabbed her hands, pressing them above her head. “I didn’t know your fuck was going to be there.”

She drew her knee up, intending to hurt him, but he stopped her. His body pressed against hers, stopping her from going anywhere else, and it irritated her.

Seeing Ethan, she was pleased to see him move on, but hearing Draven, what he said, she hated feeling that hope.

His proposal had been a shock, but his words to Ethan had been like he was looking within her, and that she couldn’t accept.

She was under no illusion about just how dangerous he was. She had to keep her distance in order to survive.

“Why did you have to say that?”

“Are you missing your lover boy? Does me make you as hot and horny as I do? Is your pussy wet for him like it is for me?” He held both of her hands above her head while he cupped between her thighs. “You drip for me. Remember that.” He pressed the dress between her thighs, and she moaned. She couldn’t do anything else.

He rubbed back and forth, his actions not smooth or gentle.

They were hard and rough, just the way she liked it.

She slid her legs open, and he chuckled. “You see? This is how much you want it. You want me to have it all from you.”

He lifted the dress up, and sure enough, he found her panties soaked.

She knew as she felt them herself. Draven had this power over her. He made her want him so completely that she couldn’t think of anyone or anything else. Why would she want to?

He slid a finger beneath the band of her panties and touched her. That single digit slid between her slit, playing with her clit, then down to her entrance.

“I remember that first time. Taking your cherry. You were my first virgin, Harper. I wanted to make it good for you. To have you screaming for me.” He slid two fingers inside her, and she gasped as he started to open them, stretching her. “You’re still so wet for me, so tight. I need to get you used to my cock.”

“So you can sell me?”

“Become my wife and the only dick you’ll be riding will be mine.”

“You want to keep me?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’ll belong to me. Everything I want, you’ll give me. You’ll want for nothing.”

“And what do you get in return?”

“I get what I always wanted: you.”

He pulled his hand away, and she watched as he sucked his fingers, licking the scent of her off him.

He gripped her shoulders and spun her.

Putting her hands on the door, she closed her eyes, loving the forceful way he took her. His control drove her need for him higher. He released the zipper of the dress and slid it down. His fingers trailed behind his touch on her back.

“No one will ever mark you like this.”

Some of the whips on her back would scar.

She wished she could hate him, and a part of her would always hate what he did, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him.

Was it Stockholm Syndrome?

Was it because of their past?

She didn’t know.

He banded an arm across her stomach and pulled her back. The dress fell down to her hips. She met his chest, and he slid his hands up to cup her tits.