THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance

by Elena Monroe

  I was prepared to take something holy, turn it into blasphemy and be granted sacrament.

  Recovering from the orgasm still vibrating through me, I let my fingers wrap around his thickness. “Let me, Bowey.” My voice was like velvet as I pushed him back down into his office chair.

  Dropping to my knees between his open legs, I looked up at him so innocently I felt myself blush with the lie. I wasn’t any more innocent than him.

  “What happened, Eve? I indulged you long enough. You wouldn’t run here unless something terrible happened.” The arousal in the room seemed to be sucked up by his words even though my hand lazily pushed up his length.

  Licking my lips, I prepared to close around his perfect tip smoothed over with a bead of pre-come that seemed to be absolution. Maybe if I sucked hard enough he would forget I didn’t feel like answering.

  His fingers combed through my hair just when my mouth pushed down past his tip, tongue pressing against the underside, feeling him tense under my hands softly laying on top of his thighs.

  Pulling my hair with a startling yank to force my eyes up to him, he repeated the same question. “You can’t avoid everything with sex. Not how this works.”

  Letting my mouth work his length, dragging up and pushing back down, I pretended to be too busy to answer. I had a mouth full of Bowen and that was enough of a reason to stay silent.

  An abrupt motion later, Bowen stood up leaving me slumped on my knees and suddenly free to chat about all the terrible things he wanted to know so badly. I didn’t expect him to scoop me up into his arms and place me back on the cold surface of his desk.

  For being someone labeled evil his surroundings were always cold, never warm.

  Leaning into me, pushing between my legs, and his weight pressing into his palms against the surface, I felt him swallow my exhales as I stole his inhales. His hands boxed me in, and I waited for the terror and torment from not answering him the first three times.

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” he threatened me, and it didn’t help the way my clit still pulsed for him.

  She whispered between us, “Ask again. Ask me again, Bowey.”

  Licking my lips, I felt him push further into me, our lips nearly brushing while he mulled over my threat. I could see the wheels turning of how he would succumb to asking me again with a twist.

  Pulling the backs of my thighs, I felt my body slip down to the edge of the desk even more. My shirt was pushed up to my hips and I could feel his excitement brush the inside of my thighs. His lips brushed mine before saying, “Why do you always make shit difficult? Something happened and as your husband I expect an answer in knowing if you’re okay.”

  It didn’t matter how he said it, I couldn’t tell him Elias felt me up in our doorway without telling him I was raped by him for years. One was tethered to the other as much as we were.

  Shaking my head softly, I laid my hand over top his and arched my back into him hoping it was enough. I had to be okay if I was just as hungry for him as I always was, right?

  “Don’t ruin this with talking. Just keep going. For me, Bowey, please.” I could feel the tears building up along the rims of my eyes, and I tried to bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to scare them away.

  I wanted this moment, his hands, his mouth to heal me the way nothing else but him did.

  His hand around himself teased my entrance and the relief swept me into crying. The tears broke, cascading down my face silently, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. I could only imagine what he was thinking of me: sex addict, desperate, or worse—inconsiderate of his wounds.

  A small gasp escaped my mouth when I felt him fill me, stretching me, until his hips were nearly flush with the desk. With his lips against my ear, I felt his hot breath caress me. “Baby. Fuck. This won’t fix it. I’ve tried, trust me, Evey.”

  I stilled at his words, swallowing hard, my hands grabbing onto his shirt with fists and caving at his honesty with each painful thrust.

  Laying kisses all over the side of my face, I felt myself squeeze around him tighter. “Only you fix it. Only you, Bowey. You’ve always been the fix for everything.” Holding his shirt in my hands, it forced him to keep his thrusts short, driving into me deeper instead of cowering away just to invade me again.

  His hand pressed against the desk shift under my ass, forcing my body to stay close to his when the groans echoed in my ear. His free hand pushed my hair out of the way of his kisses trailing down my neck and shoulder.

  Between our clashing moans, his husky voice barely got out the words. “You deserve to be healed, not fixed. Fuck, Evey.” His thrusts got more focused, more brutal, pushing the desk every time his hips kissed mine.

  He was closer to healing me than he thought.

  Every bad memory I replaced with him.

  Bowen was pulsing inside me and I knew he was on the verge of coming undone when his free hand pushed my chin up. Our eyes locked, mouths breathing heavily and the good feeling so close to consuming us. “Tell me who hurt you, Evey.”

  My whole body clenched around him and I felt him coming inside me at the exact time he wanted answers. Ones I couldn’t give him willingly but when my body shook with a third unexpected orgasm from him emptying inside me, I caved.

  “Elias…”

  I finally gave him all the truth and ammo he wanted to slay my demons. He wanted to live by our childhood rules: share everything, protect each other, and never grow too far apart.

  BOWEN

  Eve didn’t have great timing. Together we were a fucking doomsday squad for bad timing.

  Try coming inside your wife the exact moment she whimpers another man’s name. I would call that bad timing even though I asked for the answer. Granted, it wasn’t one I wanted.

  I was still inside Eve when I dropped my head between our bodies, trying to recover from how much she makes me lose control. When she’s in the room, I cast aside all the famine I’m used to just to fill up on her.

  “Explain,” I demanded while keeping my eyes down. Standing up straight, I tucked my dick back into my pants waiting for her to defy me again, the way she always did.

  I could tell she was crying without looking, each word choked around tears as she tried to speak. “He showed up at the house after you left for work...”

  My hands tightened so hard I knew my knuckles were white and my blood pressure was extremely high. Too high to be buzzed and starved. I turned around; I couldn’t watch her cry while I digested the fact that Elias was toying with us by showing up unannounced.

  Standing in front of the bookshelf that sat behind my desk, full of little reminders of Eve, I felt the itch to kill him wrap its hands around my neck until all reason drained from me. Letting my fists go, I ripped the shelf down and watched it fall apart along with the framed panties I made Chevy handle.

  “Do you think it’s fun for me to chase after your demons because you wanna fill all your wounds with fucking sex?” Finally facing her, I saw all the tracks of tears running down her face and the glow that wasn’t there before.

  Half healed; half broken.

  Half demon; half angel.

  “I can’t say it, Bowen! I didn’t even know. It’s like some trigger went off in my head when he said those words. I didn’t know… we matched…” her voice cracked all over.

  He did more than come over unannounced.

  He did more than she couldn’t bring her pretty mouth to utter.

  Holding her face in my hands, I bent down until our eye levels matched, hoping she’d be weak enough to just whisper it to me. “I need you to tell me or I can’t help you heal.”

  The way her face pouted made an ache in my chest feel a mile wide, pitch black and hopeless. I was going to use how terrible it felt and get rid of her problems all together. I was already planning the ways Elias could end up dead.

  Trying to swallow the torment she felt, she barely whispered the words. “It’s as bad as you think, Bowey.”

  Those
words might have well been gasoline, she just set a match to the burning pits of hell and Elias was the first person I was dragging under with me.

  Grabbing her wrist, I yanked her upright in a way I would regret later and dragged her behind me. Opening my office door, the other horsemen stood there, each with a different expression of curiosity for the moans and objects breaking they probably just heard.

  “What? Is this not my office?” I waited to be challenged about it.

  Vic simply clapped slowly while Grimm looked shocked with an eyebrow popped, and Khaos had no expression that seemed to match theirs. His wasn’t his typical happy-go-lucky bullshit he forced on everyone. This expression was much gloomier.

  Vic broke the tension and silence first. “My man, I knew you were normal under all that black.” Squeezing my shoulder in his grip, I pushed him off me with a shove. I just found out Elias raped my wife and paid her a visit without me there. As much as I suspected foul play, I never wanted her shit to match mine.

  “I’m taking vacation, effective immediately. Deal with it.” Eve slipped her hand into mine to avoid me holding her wrist so tightly.

  Everyone’s expression turned to confusion except for Khaos. I could spot one of his games a mile away, and withholding information that can change your life? His most popular game.

  Stepping up to Khaos as he sat on Chevy’s desk, I grilled him in place, pinning him there. “If I find out you knew any of this and made this a part of one of your games… I will bash your face in until there’s nothing left of that useless fucking head of yours.” Biting out my words, I stared at Khaos who looked guiltier than Elias ever did.

  I hadn’t felt this angry since Braeden died.

  Since Eve got dragged away from me.

  I was angry enough to light it all on fire to see what was left once the flames died down.

  Every time I caught a glimpse of Eve in the shiny reflections all over the Clave offices, I felt myself get angrier. She could have told me, given me a warning that the guy who raped her was the same guy at our wedding passed out on our couch.

  Could of, should have, would have.

  It was Braeden’s favorite saying when he was stupid drunk and borderline incoherent.

  I dragged her all the way to the elevator and to my car like she was incapable of keeping up. She wasn’t even in heels that looked like stilts today.

  “Get in the car.” I finally let her wrist go and noticed her face was covered in a slight fear—same as everyone else.

  Climbing in the car myself, I dropped the folders to her lap and texted Chevy a to do list that was going to include cleaning up my mess I left behind.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be driving,” her voice sounded small and worried.

  Ignoring her, I kept adding to my to-do list when she spoke again, “Who are you texting? And why does that girl look like me?” Void of worry now—only jealousy and insecurities.

  She dropped a bomb, and I was refusing to acknowledge it. It was driving her mad.

  Dropping my phone in my lap, I was waiting for Donte to call me back. I needed a plan for Elias, his body, his bullshit. Donte was the person whose hands were so soaked in blood that even his soul was red.

  Taking off, I was really testing the stats of my car and it was living up to all the selling points.

  The way home was quiet, too quiet, when I saw Eve out of the corner of my eye testing all my patience with the folder peeking open enough for her to read.

  “Why do you have a folder on Elias?” Twisting towards me, she opened the folder instead of peering in from a corner.

  My hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter. I wanted it to break, to crumble in my hands, because destruction feels comforting when everything else is a mess.

  “He freaks everyone out. Guess I know why. He’s a fucking predator. He’s been kicked out of thirteen schools for assault, Eve. Not worth mentioning to me?” That’s what I did this morning, drop down behind my desk and get answers on her stepbrother moving to LA when he’s the new king of a country far, far away.

  “You want me to be honest when you’re not being honest with me either.”

  “No, you want me to spit out answers you already know. You want me to say all the things you won’t.” I didn’t want to argue with her, but I was.

  Pulling into my driveway, I snatched my files back before leaving her sitting there. It didn’t take her long to get out of the car and shout loud enough for my neighbors to hear. “I found your folders! With all those girls who look like me. Be honest and I’ll be honest, Bowen, it’s that easy.”

  Fuck.

  Khaos.

  Killing Elias was turning into a damn list of people making my life more difficult.

  Still ignoring her questions, I B-lined it to the Hennessy. All I wanted was to drown my demons… and hers for a while.

  She followed me around like a lost puppy begging for a treat. Nothing I had was a treat, it was all punishment.

  Pouring a glass full, I watched the emotion float to the surface, distorting all her features, her tears spilling out silently. “What are the cages for? For me? For the girls who look like me?”

  We were both on either side of the kitchen island, as I braced my weight on my hand and chugged the alcohol, knowing being a functioning alcoholic who has somehow been drinking less with her around meant I no longer knew the outcomes of consumption.

  Retorting with a question I knew she wouldn’t answer, I asked, “What exactly did he do to you, Eve? Was our wedding night-” I cut off my own words because it was too hard to swallow not being her first.

  Hugging herself, I watched her swallow hard. “Every time I had my period, they’d give me this tea for my cramps. It always made me really sleepy. I remember trying to tell my mom something was wrong… no one listened.”

  My fist slammed against the counter hard enough to feel the sting vibrate through my bones. I watched her jump at the violence and her shoulders shoot up to her shoulders. “You can say something any time…” She was waiting for my truths that weren’t ever going to be vocalized.

  Rounding the island, I poured another full glass, keeping my hands busy, leaning down to her eye level, I pushed her chin up. “You can’t handle my truths. Last time I gave you one…” I let my voice drop down to a whisper for my next words. “...you cowarded, when I kill.”

  Walking away from her breathless body, I felt like I killed her when all I wanted was to kill Elias. Or anyone willing to piss me off.

  Stomping away with the Henny under my arm, folders she placed on the countertop like a bomb, and my glass full, I headed to my not-so-secret room that I knew she had found.

  Thanks to Khaos.

  Following me, I could feel her bleak presence behind me still wanting answers but not cowarding away this time. “I’m not a fucking coward. I survived for us. I didn’t make anyone’s life easy when they were hell-bent on breaking me. Don’t you ever call me a coward.”

  My entire house reeked of old Evey, yelling her truths and demanding respect.

  Turning around in the doorway too quickly, I watched her stumble backwards. “I’m referring to the silent treatment you gifted me with.”

  If you could physically study anger erupt in someone, this was a prime example as her fists tightened and her old ways came storming back. She wanted to hit me and in the past she wouldn’t have thought this long about it.

  “The silent treatment I gifted you?” She paused, trying to swallow her own anger before it cut through me. “I spent a year of my life being courted by you, the one who ignored I existed at all! You drank yourself stupid, pretending you didn’t remember me. I was just stuck here like some fucking useless ass princess. Then you break me but still expect me to sit pretty? Don’t ask any questions, quietly let you drink your own liver to death, watch you cut your arm up, and act like a coward yourself for being scared to let me love you. Don’t paint me the damsel in distress.”

  Eve wasn’t going to roll over and pl
ay dead for anyone.

  She didn’t think she was broken enough for me to love, and that’s the real honesty she avoided.

  Now she was broken the same way and I wanted to avoid honesty.

  My hands still occupied, I leaned against the door frame casually like all of what she said didn’t feel similar to a slap across the face. “You want truths? Because we always match. It’s the answer for everything. Even miles apart we always fucking match. I’m trying to build a fucking wall between us of all my flaws and you keep loving me anyways. When are you going to get it, Evey? I’m no good for you. Isn’t it enough that I saved you? I can’t be the guy of your fucking dreams when I’m solely made of nightmares.”

  Twisting the doorknob, I nearly fell into the office already too buzzed to be letting words fall from my lips.

  Clapping her hands together and holding them like she was about to pray, her fingertips touched her lips before she spoke, “So I’m supposed to thank you for saving me by marrying me but not expect you to be a husband?”

  Exactly.

  Didn’t know I was speaking gibberish.

  If she could just stop loving me this wouldn’t be so messy.

  “It could be worse. You could still be Elias’s plaything.” I polished off the glass full and felt everything in me beg to stop. I couldn’t physically stop until she hated me because what comes next is too ugly to love.

  The truth buried under the lie of this bullshit.

  The truth that I had to buy her back.

  “You’re a fucking drunk asshole.” Her hand swiped the bottle from my grasp, and I felt my lifeline get further and further away. I could hear the feelings taunting me, waiting to come stinging back to the surface.

  Shrugging, I watched her think she was being cute, protecting me, only this time it was from myself. “Like I don’t have more Henny?” I laughed to myself thinking of all the bottles I have waiting for me to crack the tops off of.

  The fear in my throat lumped up, and I heard glass clinking together. Standing straight up, I panicked, all my little lifelines were screaming to be saved… or drank. Depends on how hard you listen.