Violent Ends (White Monarch 2) - Page 83

“It’s your duty as my wife.” He pressed his knuckles to the surface of the desk. “We’re family now, and family comes above almost anything else.”

“I’m not your family just because you put words on my skin. I’m not your property, either.”

His eyebrow rose in challenge. “You’re both.”

I breathed through my urge to rage at him. That was why I’d come down here, after all. But it was a bad idea. I needed to be smarter . . . to keep my cool the way he did . . . and to find and employ the right weapons, not the obvious ones.

He’d told me once I’d have to play the game, or I’d lose, and sex was the only defense I had.

He’d made it very clear he didn’t want to be his father. I’d made it very clear I didn’t want to be his wife. But he’d proceeded anyway. So would I.

“But none of that means I’ll fuck you against your will,” he said with finality. “So leave. I have a lot of work to do. I’ll fix your bandage in the morning.”

Cristiano wanted me. It had been written on his face since before I’d even known it was his eyes I was looking into. Under Calavera face paint as he’d asked for a dance, his want had shown. It showed now, and it’d grown into need.

He had the strength and prowess of a lion. He could tear me apart. Perhaps he would.

He’d promised in the church that I’d bleed in other ways.

But at some point, I’d shifted from trepidation over that—to what would happen if I loved it.

Even when I hadn’t known what to call it, that fear had weighed on me from the moment he’d put his hands on me on the dancefloor and threatened to take me from my fiancé and make me his.

I untied my robe and let it drop. “I’m neither your property nor your wife until you claim me.”

Dark, ravenous eyes raked over me, and I felt them like hands. “Claim you?” He nearly growled. “What happened to consummating the marriage?”

Exposing myself this way, I had to contain a shiver of fear while my nipples hardened with the hungry way he looked at me. “This isn’t about that. I’m not doing this for Diego.”

He walked forward until he towered over me. “Let me see my tattoo.”

It took me a moment to register his meaning. His tattoo. He owned it, even when it was on my body. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but I needed to control my reaction. Slapping him in the church had been satisfying, but it hadn’t accomplished anything. Getting him to break down and fuck me against my will? That would be much more effective.

I turned, and he hovered his fingers over the ink. “I hope it serves as a strong enough reminder of who you are and where your loyalty belongs.”

“I expect it will,” I said, facing him again.

He raised my chin with his knuckles. “You’re more exquisite, more finely drawn, than any piece of art I’ve collected over the years.”

“I’m glad my body pleases you.”

“As am I,” he said, his voice deep enough to register in my mind as desire. My own craving for him reared its ugly head. “But it’s more than that, my Natalia. Mmm. I do like the sound of that. My Natalia. What once was his is now mine.”

“I’m not thinking of Diego now,” I said. “But you are.”

“No. No more. He’s an echo—and you, darling, are a symphony.” He bent his head as if he might kiss me. “I sent you to your room out of anger, but also because seeing my name branded on your body gives me the most raging hard-on I’ve ever had. It’s a dangerous combination. I haven’t been in a situation where I didn’t trust myself in years. I can’t say how I’ll react.”

My heart pounded with his thinly veiled warning. I could already feel his hands on me, consuming every inch of my skin, charting new lands, conquering curves and valleys. I was the one in dangerous territory, though. I had to hold strong. He could have my body, but he would never possess my heart. That wasn’t on the table. Diego had broken it, and Cristiano was the last man who could put it back together.

I turned my cheek as he leaned in to kiss me.

He stayed there a few moments, his breath warm on my cheek. “You’re turning away from me?”

“No. My body is yours, Cristiano. But I won’t kiss you.”

“You’ve kissed me before.”

And each time, I’d lost any sense of my surroundings, and that was why I couldn’t let it happen again. Not until I’d grown stronger and held more control. “I can lie back on the couch for you. What more do you want?”

Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance
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