Violent Ends (White Monarch 2)

“I just walked in,” I said.

“Two minutes earlier, and you would’ve gotten a show.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and it was then I realized I’d been clenching every body part that could be clenched—teeth, fists, ass cheeks. I urged myself to relax. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I’m not used to sleeping next to a woman I can’t touch,” he said. “It makes things a little hard . . . ¿Comprendes?”

It took me a second, but inexperienced as I was, I understood. It literally made things hard. “Because you have no privacy?”

“The physical contact we just had downstairs isn’t helping.”

My heart thumped. I’d felt it, too, but I wasn’t about to admit it. And I’d been right. His patience was too thin for him to wait for me to be willing.

Not that I ever would be, I reminded myself.

“Good to know holding a knife to my throat turns you on,” I said.

He arched an eyebrow and went to the mirror, inspecting his stubbled jawline. “Shower’s all yours. There’s a towel on the counter.”

I picked it up, went to the closet, and closed the door so I could strip down. I found a deep drawer with a hamper in it, dumped my clothing inside, and secured the towel under my armpits before returning to the bathroom.

Still wrapped in his own towel, Cristiano stood in front of the mirror and shaved up under his chin. His back was not only tan and smooth but very broad. I wondered if it could fit two of me. I’d never seen anything like it, the way his muscles rippled beneath the surface, the embodiment of his capabilities, his weaponry—his power.

“You . . . you won’t look, will you?” I asked, pulling my towel tighter.

With his head tilted back, he lowered just his eyes in the reflection. “If I do, I’ll have to jerk off again, and the shower’s occupied.”

I frowned. “In a house this size, surely you can find somewhere else to . . . do that.”

He rinsed the razorblade. “Is that an invitation to look?”

“No.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked. “You belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“You’re Natalia de la Rosa. You bear my name. You’ve said vows in front of God.”

“That doesn’t make me your property,” I argued. I didn’t know why I bothered when he was clearly trying to get under my skin. “Are you my property?”

His eyes had moved down to my bare legs. “Sorry, what?” he asked.

“Selective hearing,” I mumbled, opening the shower to turn on the water.

“It’s cute,” he said.

I glanced back. “What is?”

“How you’re worried I’ll only look at you.”

He was capable of so much more, as he’d proven out front. I was no match for his strength, and no matter how he trained me, I never would be. As if my feet were made of lead, I suddenly couldn’t move. “You said you wouldn’t force yourself on me.”

“I did say that.” The razor scraped his skin. “But I can change my mind, can’t I.”

It was a statement, not a question.

A reminder.

A threat.

A bluff?

If Cristiano had wanted to take me, there would’ve been no better opportunity than our wedding night. He could’ve dominated me if that got him off, or given himself permission if he’d needed it once I’d begged him to get it over with.

But he’d held back in both situations.

If he truly thought of me as property, he would’ve staked his claim on me. I was the one in command, and I suspected he knew I was nobody’s property.

I dropped my towel. He froze, keeping his eyes on mine. My heart pounded as I bared myself to him. As I showed him my body on my own terms. As I demonstrated for him that I retained a small measure of control, no matter what he said or did.

It wasn’t until I’d turned and stepped into the shower that I released a massive exhale. The last man who’d seen me that way had turned around and passed me off like a baton. I’d shown Diego much more than my body that night—I’d exposed all of myself and had held nothing back. At least, the self I’d been days ago. I hadn’t been enough. And I was pretty sure that was a good thing.

I shook as I stood under the stream of water, but at least I still stood.

But the problem with testing Cristiano’s control was that I didn’t know what might break it. Once he crossed the line, then I’d know where I stood. I’d know for sure who he was. I’d know my place here. His restraint put me in a frustrating limbo.

He talked a big game, but so far, he’d only smiled when it came time to bare his teeth. I needed him to break. To show his true colors.

I couldn’t beat a monster I didn’t know.