by Nikki Ash
I hate this man.
I hate him with everything I am.
His palm spreads out over the front of my pajama top above my breasts. He caresses me gently with his thumb.
“Your heart is certainly beating like a champ.” He slides his thumb lower, grazing my nipple and causing it to harden. “This works too.”
I’d burst into tears if I weren’t so pissed at his arrogance.
“Fuck you,” I whisper, the hate vibrating through me.
“Don’t worry, moró mou. I will. And soon.”
Kostas
I’m an asshole.
The poor girl thought I’d rape her.
I am a lot of things, but I don’t have to force women. My sweet little fiancée will one day beg, whether she likes it or not. I’ll spread her out on the bed and bury my face in her cunt until she doesn’t push me away, but instead tugs me to her.
My phone buzzes and I groan. Fucking Aris. If he knows what’s good for him, he’d leave me the hell alone.
Aris: We need to talk.
Me: I’m busy.
Aris: Too bad.
I toss my phone on my desk, swallowing down my irritation. It’s not like I can avoid my brother forever. He’s a part of the family business. Without his incredible ability to manipulate numbers in our favor, we wouldn’t have half the fortune we do. Unfortunately, Aris is a necessary part of my world.
While I wait on the smug bastard, I think about this morning. I’d left Talia sleeping. At some point in the middle of the night, she’d softened toward me. In her dreams, I’m not a total monster. Her hand had snaked up my chest and she’d held on to me. Selfishly, I’d inhaled her hair while I wondered about my future with her.
It’s not real.
I ignore the words inside my head. Maybe Talia and I are forced into this arranged marriage because her father is a stupid, spineless bitch, but there’s no reason I can’t make this work in my favor. Talia is a fucking knockout. Exactly my type with her curvaceous body, plump dick sucking lips, and tight ass. Her mouth that she tries desperately to keep in check is more than attractive. It gets my cock achingly hard.
“Ahh,” Aris chirps from the doorway. “Up bright and early this morning, dear brother.”
Leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest, I watch my brother with disinterest. With one look, I convey to him that I’m more superior than he will ever be. Father chooses me as his second-in-command. I’m the one who deals with the dark, nefarious deeds that cloud around the Demetriou name. It’s me who takes a wife for a business debt, because soft men like Aris would cave at a few tears.
Aris is too soft, too sweet, too passive.
But he looks at my fiancée like he might try to assert a little power over me.
Over my fucking dead body.
“Get to the point,” I bite out, darting my eyes to the clock. “I need to ravish my bride-to-be before our mother whisks her away to do wedding things.”
His jaw clenches and his eyes flare with anger.
One point for me, little brother.
“I didn’t know rape was in your repertoire of evil deeds,” he hisses, losing some of his good boy cool.
I laugh, but it’s cold and heartless. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“You’re a cruel motherfucker.” He drops into the seat across from me. “But she’ll be your wife. You sure you want to start out a marriage with hate?”
“She didn’t hate me last night when she was snuggled up against me,” I taunt, loving the way his eyes flicker with rage. That’s right, asshole, she’s mine. Little baby brothers don’t get gifts from Daddy.
His nostrils flare, and he casts his gaze out the window. Finally, he takes a calming breath, huffing out his words. “Cy and Bakken Galani’s family are retaliating.”
I lift a brow. “The Galanis are roaches, brother. Plentiful and difficult to kill with usual methods. That is why we drive them out of their hiding place and stomp on them.”
“Your arrogance is a weakness,” Aris sneers. “It’ll get you killed by our enemies one day. Who knows, maybe it’ll be one of the Nikolaides. Phoenix seems like he’d be quite a match for you.”
“Phoenix is on his daddy’s leash. And Niles is on ours,” I remind him. “As long as Talia warms my bed, those rats won’t try a goddamn thing.”
“Perhaps not the Nikolaides,” Aris concedes. “But the Galanis are fired up. My contacts state that their other brother Estevan is pissed. He’s the reckless one. I wouldn’t put it past that fucker to blow up the damn hotel.”
“I’ll send out some men to hunt him down. Get me names of anyone in Estevan’s circle. We’ll drive them out and stomp on them. Surely this we can agree on, brother.”
Aris grimaces. “Surely.”
“Now,” I state as I rise, “you’ll have to excuse me. I need to wake my future wife up.”
His eyes narrow on me. “That ring wiped out your account.”
“So move money from my offshores. By the end of third quarter, I’ll have made it back. Taxes are due soon.” I raise my eyebrows to dare him to challenge me more.
“Whatever, man. Just don’t be a total dick to her. She’s been through enough.”
“But being a dick is so entertaining,” I say with a smirk.
Once I’m out of my office, I stride out of the hotel to my villa. I slip in quietly and find Talia sitting at the bar eating a bowl of cereal. Her blond hair is messy and dark circles ring her eyes from stress or lack of sleep. She picks up the bowl and gulps down the milk. It’s cute and shows her age. As soon as she realizes I’m looking at her, she stiffens, shooting me a hateful glare.
“My mother will be here within the hour.”
She pushes away the bowl, a feral gleam in her blue eyes. “I’m not going.”
“Excuse me?”
The brave woman slides off the barstool and shrugs. “I can’t pretend, Kostas. I can’t and I won’t. You want to treat me as your prisoner, then do it. I can’t go on acting like this is something I want.”
“Don’t be dramatic, moró mou. You’ll shower and dress. Quickly now.” I stalk past her and into my bedroom. Once in the bathroom, I turn on the shower before walking back into the living room.
She crosses her arms over her chest in defiance.
“Go,” I bark out.
Her head shakes stubbornly. “No.”
Now she’s really starting to piss me off.
“Do I need to remind you who I am?” I rumble, locking eyes with her.
“Haven’t forgotten,” she hisses. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it already.”
I roll my eyes and storm over to her. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already. We’ll have far more fun playing together. Don’t quit the game now, ómorfo korítsi.”
Her nostrils flare at the words beautiful girl. “I hate you.”
“Too bad,” I growl, rushing her. She shrieks when I toss her over my shoulder and stride out of the room. Her useless hands pound against my lower back. Once in the bathroom, I drop her to her feet. “Take them off or I take them off for you.”
She shakes her head, backing away from me.
“Suit yourself,” I snap, irritated that she’s acting like a spoiled brat. I grab the front of her pajamas and yank her forward. Her hands grip my suit jacket to keep herself from falling.
“Stop!” she yells, attempting to claw at me.
I wrangle her out of her shirt easily enough, but she’s wiggling too much for me to get her pants off. Flipping her around, I push her against the wall and grip her wrists behind her with one hand. She cries out when I yank her pants and underwear down in one pass. When she’s naked, I swivel her around and pin her against the wall by gripping her biceps. Her tits jiggle with every breath she takes and her skin burns crimson.
“Are you going to bathe yourself?”
Her blue eyes burn into mine with challenge. “And if I don’t?”
I n
udge her knees apart with my knee and slide up to her cunt. “I would be more than thrilled with the husbandly duty of washing my future wife.” I lean in and nuzzle the side of her neck with my nose before nipping at the side of her throat. “Just be warned. I’m very thorough.”
Pulling away, I regard her with a lifted brow. Her lips press together, barely containing words she desperately wants to say. Words that will get her in trouble. I slide my palms down her arms and then take her hands in mine. She jerks them from my grip, so I clutch onto her naked hips instead. When I rub circles on her soft flesh with my thumbs, her breath hitches and her nipples harden. I’m painfully hard in my slacks, and if my mother wasn’t on her way, I’d throw out my stupid waiting until marriage for sex shit and take her right now.
The eyes don’t lie.
Behind her thinly veiled hate is lust. Desire. Need.
“Make the decision now, Talia.”
Her eyes flutter closed when I slide my fingers along her lower stomach in a teasing way. As my knuckle runs along her slit, she sucks in a sharp breath.
“I, uh, I can do it myself,” she whispers. “Please.”
“Pity,” I say with a faux pout. “I was looking forward to washing your dirty little body.” I slide my hand back to her hip before turning her to face the shower. I smack her ass hard enough to earn me a hateful scowl over her shoulder. “Quickly now. My mother doesn’t like tardiness.”
She climbs into the shower and glowers at me through the glass. “You can leave now.”
“Quality control,” I say, holding my palms up. “It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”
Her middle finger goes up and she spends her entire shower washing herself one-handed so that she can flip me off the whole time. I’ve killed men for lesser offenses.
Not her.
With her, it’s fucking cute.
Keep testing me, moró mou. It gets my dick really goddamn hard.
The water finally shuts off and I’m waiting with a towel. She must have cooled in her shower because she won’t meet my gaze. I wrap the towel around her and hug her to my chest. Her body grows stiff when my mouth brushes along her ear.
“Adrian will accompany you and my mother today. Don’t try anything funny like running away. You won’t get far.”
She turns her head slightly toward me. My lips hover above her cheek.
“What if I tell your mother about what an awful monster you are?” she challenges, her voice breathy despite the brave words she speaks.
“She’ll laugh it off because she’s sweet and polite,” I tell her, pressing my lips to her cheek. “And then you’ll have to come back home and deal with me.”
“What will you do?”
“What won’t I do is a better question.”
Her body trembles. “You scare me.”
“You’ll soon grow to love it.”
“I’ll never love you.”
I slide my palms to her stomach and then up to her breasts. “You will if I make you.” I tug away her towel, once again leaving her naked. Stepping back, I admire her perfect ass. “My mother will want to take you somewhere nice for lunch. A dress will do.”
“You’re an asshole.”
I slap her ass hard before leaving her to get ready.
Because that’s what assholes do.
Talia
Nora and I have spent the day doing all things wedding related. We’ve found the most gorgeous wedding gown—one I would die to wear if it wasn’t Kostas I’m marrying. Ordered the bridesmaids’ dresses—for bridesmaids I don’t even know and won’t meet until the wedding rehearsal dinner on Friday. Apparently, Kostas’s parents both have extended family, who will all be a part of the wedding, and Nora confirmed all of their measurements. We confirmed the church we’ll be getting married in, and the beautiful garden venue for the reception. We scheduled the catering company and designed the wedding cake—an exquisite five-tier wilted magnolia petal design. It will match the color scheme we decided on—soft pink and cream. We only stopped once for a quick lunch.
In one long, exhausting day, Nora and I have planned the wedding of my dreams. If I could wave a magic wand, this is exactly what it would all look like, except for one detail. The groom. And that one detail is what ruined every moment of the day. I tried to picture walking down the decorated aisle in my wedding dress, but only imagined Kostas scowling at me. I imagined us cutting the beautiful cake and partaking in the tradition of feeding each other, but all I could envision is Kostas glaring at me.
I saw several of the receipts from today, so I know this wedding is costing the Demetriou family a small fortune—not that they can’t afford it—and it’s all a waste. An unnecessary show. The church and reception and decorations and wedding attire might all be perfect, but none of it matters because the wedding is a sham. The vows we’ll recite will be fake. The exchanging of rings will have zero meaning. And all for what? So Kostas’s mom can enjoy her eldest son getting married? So my da—Niles, can have it rubbed in his face that his daughter has been bought in exchange for his debt? It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t even live anywhere near Kostas and his dad. How is it fair that he’s now debt free and I have to spend the rest of my life married to a man who is hell-bent on making my life miserable?
“I was thinking we could go to dinner,” Nora suggests from the back of the town car. We’ve just left the bakery and are heading back home. Home. The word leaves a sour taste in my mouth. This place will never really be home. “Aris mentioned he’s just finished up a meeting and is available to join us.” Nora smiles sweetly. If the circumstances were different, and I was marrying Kostas out of love and not to fulfill an obligation, I would feel lucky to have Nora as my mother-in-law. In all of the movies I’ve seen, the mother-in-law is always a bitch, trying to create a wedding the bride hates. But not Nora.
The entire day she has been nothing but sweet to me. When I was standing on the alteration pedestal in my wedding grown and began to cry—she assumed they were happy tears—she pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I am so happy my son has found love. It takes a strong woman to love a Demetriou man. Thank you for loving my boy.”
I wanted so badly to tell her that it’s impossible to love a Demetriou man, and that it would never happen, but then I remembered that she does in fact love one. How? I have no idea. But she does. So I kept my mouth shut and nodded and told her the only honest thing I could think to say. “I’m so glad you’re going to be my mother-in-law.”
“Talia,” Nora says, bringing me back into the now. “How do you feel about dinner?”
“That sounds wonderful,” I tell her truthfully. For one, I really do love her company, and it will mean less time I’m stuck at home with Kostas taunting and torturing me. Sick, sadistic asshole. It’s like he gets off on messing with me. Not that it should surprise me. The guy also gets off on beating men with their own limbs. God knows what else turns him on.
My mind goes to earlier this morning, Kostas provoking me in the shower. I thought for sure he was going to force himself on me, and shockingly, while my brain screamed no, my body…my damn traitorous body reacted oppositely. My nipples hardened in want, and the area between my legs tightened in need. For a split second when I thought maybe Kostas was going to take me right then and there in the bathroom, I wasn’t sure whether to beg him not to, or beg him to do it. Even now, sitting here in the car, my body shivers at the mere thought of him touching me. But I imagine, just like this fake wedding, sex with Kostas will be nothing like I’ve always fantasized about when I’ve thought about my wedding night with my husband. There won’t be any love making or worshipping. He won’t tenderly kiss and love on me. He’ll be rough and mean and cruel. He’ll hurt me…just because he can.
The town car stops in front of a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Alessandro’s Urban Kitchen, the sign reads. The driver opens Nora’s door, at the same time my door is opened. I’m momentarily taken aback, until I see Aris is standing there,
holding the door open with one hand, his other extended to help me out.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a soft smile. While Kostas is a cruel, heartless asshole, his brother doesn’t seem to be anything like him.
“Did you ladies have a good day?” Aris asks, guiding his mother and me into the restaurant.
“We did,” Nora says, beaming. “Everything is ready for Friday.”
“Friday?” Aris prompts.
“The rehearsal dinner,” Nora tells him. The hostess sits us at a small booth. Nora sits on one side and I sit on the other. Without thought, Aris slides in next to me. His leg bumps mine, and he grins playfully. Flush creeps up my neck. Why couldn’t Kostas be more like Aris? Then maybe being forced to marry him wouldn’t be so bad.
“Don’t forget you need to pick up your tux,” she says, picking up the wine menu. “And don’t leave until you’re sure it fits. We can’t have you standing up as your brother’s best man looking like a dressed up monkey.” She and Aris laugh. It’s light and playful, and it makes my heart both soar and hurt.
“When I was a teenager, Mom ordered my suit for a dance,” Aris explains. “I told her I tried it on, but I lied. When I got home, it turned out I had had a growth spurt, and the arms and legs were all two inches too short.”
“I told him he reminded me of those monkeys in the circus,” Nora adds with a laugh.
The waiter comes over, and Nora orders us a red wine, while I eye the menu. It’s Mediterranean and everything looks delicious. We spend dinner talking and laughing. Nora talks about her sons, and two things become apparent: one, she loves them with every ounce of her being, and two, she either has no clue who Kostas really is, or she’s deep, deep in denial.
“Aris, agóri mou, would you mind bringing Talia home with you? The time has gotten away from me and I really need to get home. Your father will be home shortly, and you know how upset he gets if I’m not home to sit with him while he eats.” Nora smiles, but it’s not as bright as it’s been all day, and I have to wonder, if maybe the reason she focuses so heavily on her relationship with her sons is because her marriage is lacking. When my parents were going through their divorce, my mom made it a point to smother me with love and affection. I didn’t understand it at the time, but maybe it was out of her guilt of not giving her children the perfect family.