by Stone, Piper
Chapter Eight
Stephanie
Enemies.
Danger.
I’d been surrounded by the concept my entire life even though I’d been protected by security and a governess. The day I’d turned eighteen, I’d packed a bag, threatening to move if I wasn’t given additional freedom. My mother had rushed to my defense, begging my father to allow the little bird to fly. If my memory served me, she’d been punished for opening her mouth.
A commodity.
Yep, that fit to a T.
What the hell had I been forced back into?
Maybe choosing to live in New York had been nothing but a pause in the basics of being a Michaelson, now a Capodanno, nothing but obedient eye candy. Christian was right about some of the atrocious bullshit that came from his mouth. I would never be able to live normally in any manner, always looking over my shoulder.
I had far too many emotions about the man: the boy of my fantasies, the bully turned into one powerful brute.
I’d seen the look of horror on his face when he’d found me on the dock. I’d felt his worry, more than just a hint of fear. Yes, I’d disobeyed him, but I’d stopped abiding by certain rules the day I moved out of my parents’ house. Besides, I hadn’t thought anything about attempting to find a store, taking some time alone.
Buying the monster a present.
I was an idiot. Did I really think we were going to enjoy a Caribbean vacation, swimming with the dolphins? No. he’d likely lock me in the stateroom except for meal breaks. And as for taking away my privileges, the man wasn’t my keeper.
“Jesus.”
Hissing, I took several long strides backwards in the room, my lower lip quivering as I watched him disappearing up the stairs.
I moved toward the roses, fingering several of the petals. The gesture had been so beautiful, completely unexpected. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine if we could ever stop arguing, if I could ever care for him.
A stern lesson. How perfect. I shook my head, fighting every nasty and violent urge I had building up inside. If the jerkoff really believed I was going to be molded into some obedient wife, he had another think coming. The vile, egotistical maniac would soon learn I was a much stronger woman than he might understand. Fuck him. He had no redeeming qualities. As far as respect? That was a quality that was earned and that would never happen. I would find a way to get out of this fake marriage. Somehow.
Then why do you hunger for him? Why are you wet and hot all over?
The questions weren’t ones I was willing to answer, let alone face. I was cold all over, shaking like a leaf.
Not from his anger.
Not from the fear he’d instilled.
From the words he’d whispered in an exasperated tone.
Love.
I could have sworn he spoken three words that didn’t make sense coming from a man like him. I love you. Right. It wasn’t possible the man could love anyone. Was it?
Oh, no. There was no way I’d heard the words correctly. He’d just talked about punishing me like a bad little girl. God! I wasn’t in the mood for taking his guff or following his ridiculous rules; however, I did realize that my life had changed and that I’d need to watch my back.
I stood frozen for a solid five minutes, uncertain of what to do. I was nothing more than a prisoner, no matter the luxurious surroundings and a staff to cater to my every need. Going away with him for an extended period of time was either a blessing or a curse. I was terrified of finding out which.
My shallow breaths were from frustration and I grabbed the roses, prepared to smash them against the wall. With my arm in the air, I could envision the petals strewn about the stateroom, the roses soon to be dead. I couldn’t do it. Instead, I brought them to my nose, taking a whiff of every single one of them.
I studied the surroundings; ridiculously plush leather, ornate carved wood, an expansive entertainment center, and a granite-topped bar. I could only imagine what the bedroom looked like.
I heard men’s voices, including Christian’s, although I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I’d not only seen the photographer, but had been hounded by him, finally threatening to call the police if he didn’t get out of my face. While the voice on the phone had been disguised, I knew in my gut it was the same person.
The questions he’d asked had been pointed, including about a murder that had occurred in the Hamptons twenty years before. While I had only a basic idea what he was talking about, the reporter jabbing, making accusations of what was really going on behind closed doors in our community had given me a headache.
To think the Council had created this... nightmare was terrifying. They had far too much control. If Christian held a seat, would anything change?
That was also too much to think about.
The reporter had also made insinuations that there would be additional murders and I should watch my back. That’s the moment I’d punched him in the gut, telling him exactly where to go in the most colorful language.
The guy had been a jerk, but he’d certainly rattled my cage. The awkward conversation wasn’t something I would tell Christian about. For all I knew, my husband would hunt the man down. I took a look out one of the windows before pulling the man’s card out of my pocket. He’d shoved it in my hand, telling me that he might be the only person who could save me.
I hadn’t reacted fast enough, tossing it back in his direction. Maybe my gut had been telling me to keep the card just in case. In case of what exactly?
The last thing the reporter had said to me continued to send chills trickling down my spine.
“Be careful of the secrets. Once they’re revealed, everyone will burn. Ask your parents what really happened eighteen years ago.”
Secrets. What family didn’t have them and what had happened when I was seven, other than the fact I’d gotten sick? Why was the fact I’d taken ill anything to the man? The riddle was too much, my stomach already churning. I was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery one way or the other.
I hated being here, stuck away from the ability to run away if necessary. That’s exactly why Christian had chosen this method of travel. I fiddled with the card before walking into the bedroom, taking several deep breaths. Of course there would be a king-size bed complete with iron posts. A vision flashed into my mind of being handcuffed. Everything that had occurred up to this point was surreal. I’d grown up with the finer things in life, never wanting for a new bicycle or computer, but most of the gifts showered on me had more to do with my illness than love. My parents had simply wanted to pamper me because of their guilty consciences.
I’d known that from the time I could remember, the sickness only heightening their remorseful actions.
I rubbed my temple as thoughts regarding the illness pulled me into the past. Everything remained fuzzy around the three years of my sickness, the three additional years it had taken me to fully recover. I could only remember bits and pieces, except for the time prior to falling ill. I’d been happy, unaware of anything odd with regards to my family. I went to sleep one night. The next time I was cognizant, I learned months had gone by. Months. I’d never learned any of the details. My parents wanted to protect me.
Or so the high dollar psychiatrist had told me over and over again.
I’d been angry as a teenager, refusing to obey almost anyone. Then the near tragedy. Were they connected somehow?
Why would the reporter be so crass as to bring up such a horrible time in my life? There had to be a reason.
I shoved away the memory, refusing to fall into the past.
I grabbed one of my suitcases, shoving the reporter’s card into the outer pocket. I wasn’t going to deal with the man’s threats, at least not right now.
I felt a small lurch and knew the boat was set for sail. Why did I have a sick feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach? There was nothing to do but wait. I walked back into the main salon, standing by the window and watching as the boat left the marina.
What troubled me the most was not knowing whether I should consider Christian as just another enemy, or a man more dangerous than anyone else.
I finally eased down onto one of the couches, holding my head in my hands. For only the second time since opening the Box, I allowed myself to cry.
I hadn’t realized until I felt his presence that Christian had returned. Furious with myself, I wiped my eyes several times, unable to look at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a monotone voice.
“As I can be.”
I noticed he had his hand on his belt, as if the only thing on his mind was punishing me. I stood, forcing myself to gaze in his direction. “Why didn’t you spank me earlier? I know you wanted to.”
“I will never punish you when I’m angry.”
Maybe the anxiety of the day was the reason, but I burst into laughter, further inflaming the situation. I could tell by the venomous sneer crossing his face. He refused to allow anyone to challenge him. “Why not get angry, Christian? I’m angry. Furious. Forced into a marriage with a man I can’t tolerate, one who acts like he owns the entire world. For all I know, you blackmailed my father or the priest or hell, I don’t know. This is all a sick game, but I can tell you know a hell of a lot more about this than I do. Tell me what’s really going on!” I rushed toward him, defying him to say anything.
He sighed, looking everywhere but in my direction.
That was the final straw, dragging every irrational thought and emotion into the forefront. I managed to rear back, slapping him hard across the face. “You bastard. You know exactly what’s going on here, don’t you? What did you do to my father? Did you threaten him? Or was it your father who did the dirty deed? Huh?”
His lack of reaction pissed the hell out of me, his head just slightly shifting from the blow.
“Oh. My. God. You do know something. You did this. Maybe you were already a part of the Council.” Horrified, I started to back away. “Is this what you planned all those years ago when you sold your soul so you were allowed to kidnap me, forcing me into this marriage? Getting your way like you always did when you were nothing but a bully? I guess very little has changed. All I ever wanted was a hero, but that man isn’t you.” I regretted the words the instant I said them. The man who’d been little more than a boy had saved my life, risking his own in the murky depths, refusing to leave my side. And I was accusing him of something else.
I could see the hurt in his eyes before they once again turned cold.
“I’m... sorry, Christian. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things.”
He grabbed my wrists, yanking me forward until my breasts were crushed against his heaving chest, his breathing labored. His grasp was tight and no amount of struggling allowed me to budge an inch.
“Be careful who you disrespect, little girl,” he growled, his glare full of dark domination.
“Or what? You’re going to use the belt on me? Fuck you, Christian.” I continued fighting, trying hard to break the hold.
“That’s exactly what you need. A firm hand. A harsh spanking.”
“Then do it. That’s what you need to fulfill your requirements, the ability to control everything and everyone around you. What I need is truths. Everything in my life has been based on lies. I can’t handle that any longer.” I spat off the words not because of my anger at him, but the ugly situation. I’d never thrown a tantrum in my life and here I was acting like some misbehaving little girl.
The man towered over me, his dominance like a thing of masculine beauty, almost regal in nature. I was struck by the darkness in his eyes, devoid of any glimmer of light, as if the man had been sucked into the same nightmare. Even the two-day stubble seemed out of character, as if he was having trouble keeping control.
The scent of him reeked of testosterone, the exotic musky cologne filling my nostrils, intoxicating me to the point I could no longer feel my feet. And the way he looked at me was nothing short of a predator hunting his prey, famished from his intense hunger. I wanted to be angry with him, but every part of my body betrayed me; my nipples swollen and aching, pussy juice slickening my already damp panties.
As he yanked me even closer, the hard throbbing of his cock ignited every fire, roaring to the point I had difficulty catching my breath. All I could concentrate on were his full lips, ridiculous thoughts of spending hours kissing him.
Issuing a husky deep breath, he tossed me over his shoulder, taking long strides toward the bedroom. I was in shock, unable to react in any manner. What the hell did he think he was doing?
Christian tossed me onto the bed, immediately closing the door.
Huffing, I scrambled off, only to be stopped short by his massive body pressing against mine. When he spoke, the sultry tone slithered into every cell and muscle, issuing more dominance than the words themselves.
“You are... difficult. Mouthy. Disobedient. Disrespectful. The fact you have difficulty listening or being obedient is a situation that I need to rectify right now. And the truth is, I’ve never wanted a woman like I crave the touch of your body. I want to crush you with my weight, savoring the way your body writhes beneath mine. I want to feast on your sweet pussy, licking up every drop as you climax over... and... over... again. Then I want nothing more than to thrust my cock deep inside that impetuous mouth of yours, forcing you to suck me until I’m ready to plunge my shaft past your slickened folds. Then after that, sweetheart?”
As he crowded my space, his hot breath cascading down like a wild torrent of fire, I clawed at his shirt, clenching my fingers around the thick material.
“I want to fuck that tight ass of yours, driving my cock in a brutal manner until you scream out my name. You’ve always been mine. You just didn’t know it.”
He had no idea how his savage words affected me, the white-hot heat searing every nerve ending. I couldn’t breathe or think, had no ability to focus on anything but his sexy, controlling, tantalizing words.
And I hated myself for falling under his spell.
There was no way to describe his explosive hold as he cupped my cheek, sliding his thumb back and forth across my heated skin provocatively. “Goddamn, woman, I hunger for you.” He pressed his lips against mine, the light touch pulling every raw emotion out of me.
I clung to his arms, even rising onto my tiptoes. The man was mesmerizing in every manner, his cold and calculated domination like a sharp-edged sword, spearing my very soul. Maybe I did belong to him, the brutal man with uncontrollable urges for pleasure and pain, a penchant for danger. But I knew there was another side, one almost as fragile in nature as the one I’d fought my way through.
If only I could heal him.
He pulled me off my feet as he wrapped his arms around me, the kiss becoming an enigmatic roar of passion. As he pushed his tongue past my lips, I shuddered in his hold, wrapping my fingers in his long strands of hair. There was so much fusion between us, the electricity sliding off the scale, humming along my skin as if ready to sear my flesh.
That was the man I’d married.
That was the same man I’d hated.
That was the man I wanted desperately to be able to love.
Just like the words I’d heard him whisper only moments before.
There was no rationality as the moment of passion shifted into overdrive, our tongues smashing together, our hearts beating rapidly. Even the feel of his cock throbbing against me was more intense, the deliciousness of the mystery of each other’s bodies far too tantalizing.
I shifted one hand down his chest, marveling at the rippling muscles, the sexiness of his narrow hips. When I slid my hand between us, stroking his cock, he broke the kiss long enough to growl, the sound permeating my eardrums.
Further igniting the flames.
Love and hate had a fine line. That much I’d learned early on. This was nothing but sheer explosiveness, our bodies and minds at the boiling point. My entire body was ravaged with need, every sensation amplified, every goosebump larger than lif
e.
He closed his eyes, allowing me to stroke him up and down but only seconds later, he fisted my hair, yanking back my head before lowering his. “Such a naughty little minx. Aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” I whispered, running my fingers up and down his shaft. The thought of having him in my mouth, sucking on his balls was incredible.
“I will ravage your body for hours tonight, but first things first. You do need stern discipline as well as an understanding that you’re no longer in charge. I am. I’m your master, your keeper, and the man you’re going to surrender to. Rules are there for a reason. Do you understand?”
I had no idea what to say, the complexity of the man more scintillating than I wanted to admit. “I do.”
“Good.” He brushed hair from my eyes, placing another heated kiss against the side of my neck.
I was tingling all over, my pussy clenching then relaxing. “Who are you, Christian? You change almost every few hours. When I think I’m getting through the thick steel layers surrounding you, even for a few minutes, you change. That bothers me.”
“You have layers as well. I hope one day you can trust me, sharing all your passions, those dark desires I see in your eyes.”
“Trust. How can I trust you when I don’t know you? When you won’t let me in. Did you know that you were my crush all those years ago? You didn’t know I existed, at least not until... the party.”
He darted his eyes across mine, his brow furrowing. “I knew you existed. I’d paid attention for years. Do you remember what happened on that horrible day, Stephanie? The lovely celebration of a christening that turned into a disaster?”
“I don’t want to talk about that day. It has no bearing on us,” I insisted, but I knew differently. The wretched day had altered everything. The past. The present and certainly the future. No one talked about that day. It’s as if the fact I’d almost died from drowning, going into a coma for several days had never happened.
“Well, one day we’re going to need to talk about every detail, but I will say this. That was no boating accident or mismanaged maintenance like it was reported initially. What occurred on that day was an attempt at assassinating as many members of the Sacred Sect as possible. Oh, our fathers attempted to cover it up, the two Council members that everyone looked up to. I knew the truth. I’d heard the police officers talking about their report, one that mysteriously disappeared.”