by Stasia Black
Cora’s eyes shot to Marcus, sitting so smugly above her. Even if what he was saying was true, she couldn’t imagine it, but even if it was— “I didn’t do anything to you or your sister. This is the first I’m hearing of any of it.”
Marcus shook his head and took up his drink, swallowing the dregs before setting it down with a thunk. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Cora flinched at his harsh curse. He’d never used such language around her.
“My sister didn’t do anything either. I live by a Code.” He reached down and cupped Cora’s cheek and she jerked away from his touch. He let her.
“Under my Code, you would have been untouchable. But your family violated all that is sacred the night they took Chiara. And there’s only one way for the scales to be leveled. And before I killed your father, I looked into his eyes and told him that his little baby girl was next.”
Cora felt her eyes go so wide she didn’t even dare blink. Her father hadn’t died in a car accident. Marcus had— Marcus had killed— And she was—
“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered.
Marcus’s lip quirked up on the side, the smile she’d loved only a half hour before. “No, angel. What fun would that be?” His fingertips skimmed her cheek. “Why would I kill you when I could keep you?” She fell into his gaze, drowned in it.
“No,” he murmured. “You don’t get a death sentence. You get a life sentence. Death is quick. But suffering...suffering can go on forever.”
The air left her lungs. Cora panted as her body tightened, turned to concrete.
“Breathe, baby.” Marcus settled a large hand on her chest. “You gotta breathe.”
She inhaled, compelled as she stared into his dark grey eyes. There was something about Marcus she had to obey.
“I don’t want you to hurt me,” she whispered.
“I know, angel.” For a second his face softened, conflicted. “I didn’t want to hurt you, either.”
Cora’s heart leapt with hope. “But why—”
“There’s an order to the universe. Everything has its place.” He settled beside her, lecturing like a professor. “Everything’s weighed on scales,” he raised two hands, palms up. “Things gotta balance. Light and dark. Day and night. Good and bad.” He dropped his hands. “Crime and punishment.”
Cora’s mouth worked but no sound escaped. She met Marcus’s gaze and drowned in it.
“When your father,” his voice vibrated under the weight of his rage, “did what he did, things got out of order. Out of place. There need to be consequences. I’ve been waiting for this day for a very long time.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
He looked away. “You aren’t hearing me. Someone’s gotta answer for what they did. I found my sister...” His eyes closed, and Cora’s heart cracked. Because it was still Marcus. And the pain on his face was so real. “Her eyes were open. Her body broken. They did things to her. Things that should never be done. Angels wept…”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. It slipped out. Not apologizing for herself, but because it was what you said when you hurt for someone you loved.
He tied you to the bed! He hates you!
But she…she’d spent the last two months loving him. It didn’t just disappear. She didn’t know how to turn it off.
Marcus closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. Everything in her strained to go to him, to hold him. For all his power and control, Marcus was a man. Just a man. She’d seen him at his best, and at his lowest. He hid nothing from her.
Except, he had, hadn’t he? He’d hid his nature in plain sight. And she was the naive prey that had walked right into his trap.
I’m sorry. Her apology lay between them, small and inadequate against the huge debt.
He dropped his hand. He was the Lord of the Underworld once more, his expression carved from stone. Back in control.
“No, beautiful, you’re not. But you will be.”
He stalked out of the room. Cora shivered where he left her. Everything had turned around so quickly, she felt dizzy. She closed her eyes until soft footfalls jerked her attention back to Marcus.
Despite everything, her pulse fluttered at the sight of him, his huge bare chest dusted with dark hair.
“What’s going to happen? What will you do with me?”
“Whatever I want.” A shark-like smile. “You’re not going to die. You’re going to live a long, long time. By my side as my wife. Forever.”
How could he be so cold? So ruthless? How could she have been so foolish as to think he loved her? Now her wedding night was a nightmare. So much for happy endings.
She couldn’t help the tears that welled up and spilled down her cheeks.
“That’s right, gorgeous. Cry for me.”
That was when she saw what Marcus had picked up—his phone. He’d turned on the camera and was aiming it her way. Red rage bloomed in her head.
“No.”
“Yes.” Marcus backed away, like he was framing the perfect shot. “We’ve got to have some wedding photos to send your side of the family. It’s the least we can do considering your mom and your uncles couldn’t make it to the wedding.”
Her uncles? She didn’t even know she had uncles.
“Stop.” Her begging was muffled as she hid her face in her arm. “Please stop.”
“Look at me,” he ordered. “Cora.” His footfalls stalked closer. “This is happening.”
“No.” Think, she had to think. This was still Marcus. Inside the man, the monster, there was a powerful attraction to her. Maybe she could find an inkling of the Marcus who cared.
A hand closed around her wrist like an iron shackle. She resisted.
“Cora, I’m not going to ask you again.”
Her bones melted. She let him pull her hand away. He looked down at her and her body flushed under his scrutiny.
“You’re sick,” she bit out. Anything to deny her body’s pull to him.
“I won’t take the pictures, if you submit to me.”
Her laugh wracked her body. “How? It’s not like I can run away.”
“I’ll drop the camera if you submit to me. And act like a wife.”
“You mean like I love you?”
He inclined his head.
The cracks in her heart dripped poison. “I did love you, you know. That wasn’t a lie.”
“I know.”
“Was everything you said to me...was it all an act? Was it never real?”
He didn’t answer.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” she raised her chin. Pretending to be brave. “It’s not anything I haven’t done before.”
He was switching off the camera when he swung back to her, his normally grey eyes went black. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, did you think I was a virgin?”
He came back and covered her knee with his hand. He squeezed and her breath stuttered, betraying her. “I don’t think you’re a virgin,” he told her. “I know you are.”
She raised her chin. “I’ve had guys,” she lied. “Lots of them.”
He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“It’s true.”
Marcus moved over her, his large body stretching head to toe with hers. His cologne mixed with the crisp linen scent of his white dress shirt. She was naked, he wasn’t, but coiled power rippling through him was visible in his taut muscles and the endless depths of his eyes. Heat crackled between them. “Lots of guys, huh? I’ll have to make you forget them.”
His touch seared her as it always did. Her legs trembled and she blinked at him, searching his face for any semblance of the man who took her in and cared for her.
And then she remembered his callous smile as he’d aimed a camera at her.
“I hate you.”
His eyes crinkled in a cold smile that didn’t touch his mouth. He tutted. “Is that any way to talk to your husband, wife?”
>
“Don’t call me that.”
“Wife? That’s what you are.”
Her head jerked negative and his expression darkened. “Yes.” His hand rested on her tensed chest, sliding up to collar her neck. “My wife. Better or worse,” his gaze roved over her, his eyes gunmetal grey. “Rich or poor. Sick or healthy. Till death do us part.”
She closed her eyes at his mocking version of their vows. He was going to humiliate her, hurt her, and her body didn’t care. It responded to Marcus and warmed at his touch. Her heart thrummed and lungs strained. She panted as if she’d run a marathon.
He reached for his belt buckle. Cora’s eyes were wide before, but now they swallowed up her face, flashing white. Her entire body shuddered. Oh gods, why had she let him tie her up? Stupid.
But she’d believed he loved her.
He never said it. So why did you think it?
Because he asked her to marry him! What other reason could he have had? Apparently revenge for crimes committed more than a decade ago that she hadn’t even known about.
“You told me you’d take care of me.” Her voice was small, plaintive.
“I did.” His deep voice dripped promise. “I will.”
“Please,” she gasped, knowing it was pathetic to beg but still unable to believe there was nothing of the Marcus who’d held and kissed her so tenderly left inside the cruel man sitting before her now. “Don’t touch me.”
“No?” His lips twisted. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
“No.” But he was touching her, barely, stroking the side of her breast. It felt so good. She never wanted him to stop. “You want me to stop?” he asked as if reading her mind.
“I—”
“You like it when I touch you.”
Her thighs pressed together. She whimpered. His fingers never stopped stroking, stroking…
“Admit it,” his voice deepened, rolling over her senses. The room fell away.
“I’m going to touch you whenever I want, wife. And you’re going to like it.”
“But...you hate me.” She was ashamed of how her voice cracked. And even more ashamed that she was leaning into his touch. But he was so familiar. And his touch felt like a comfort, even now.
“Hate never stopped anyone from feeling pleasure.”
Cora’s eyebrows knitted together. What did that mean?
Marcus’s dark hair brushed her belly. He dipped down over her body, and as if the last terrible fifteen minutes had never happened, he kissed down her stomach again. His cologne washed over her, smooth and sweet.
Her elbows and knees softened, her stomach flip flopping. Cora stared at his shining head. His mouth was warm on her cool flesh and then his hands were there, gripping her hips like she loved so much. Oh gods.
She couldn’t help the noise that escaped her throat and he paused.
“You gonna fight me, angel?”
She should fight. She should shout ‘yes’ and try to wrench out of her bonds, do whatever it took to escape.
But his tongue touched the smooth plane of her stomach and something inside her snapped. She wasn’t prepared for it and her muscles clenched at the sudden shocking rush of pleasure. Golden liquid gushed through her, pouring from her belly and filling up her pulsing center until it overflowed. She felt her own moisture on her legs and her face flamed with embarrassment.
“I guess not,” Marcus chuckled. He pulled back and she knew he was admiring the wetness flooding the space between her legs. “Shame. I would’ve enjoyed a fight.”
Tears immediately cascaded down Cora’s cheeks.
His fingers trailed over her pale skin, bringing a rosy flush to her chest. They trailed down, over her quivering belly to sink into the wetness. Cora gasped and tugged at the wrist bands. Marcus’s eyes narrowed, but he kept stroking her. Her hips rose, jerking in time to his come-hither movement.
“You know, you can stop this at any moment.”
What? Was he serious?
He twisted a finger in her virgin hole. Her feet dug into the bed and her abs tensed as she lifted herself into his hand. Her body pulsed around his fingers as he cupped her.
“Just tell me. Say, ‘stop.’”
What was his game? She could stop at any moment? She could—
“Stop,” she mouthed but no sound came out.
His fingers stilled but her hips kept rocking. Cora clenched her teeth. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted...
Marcus raised a brow. She whimpered. Her hips tilted in invitation.
“Poor wife. So confused. Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to kiss it better?”
To Cora’s horror, she nodded.
Marcus bent his head to taste her. Her legs spasmed, her body sighing into his mouth.
Stop, she screamed in her head. Stop. But when she opened her mouth, still no sound came out. His mouth worked over her mound, detouring to her slick thighs, nuzzling her labia, nipping at them with his teeth. She stayed silent, other than her moans.
What was happening? He’d given her an out. Why hadn’t she taken it? He hated her. He’d only married her to get revenge. But his caresses, his kisses, they didn’t feel hateful. They felt familiar. They felt like Marcus. The man she… The man she loved.
That man’s not real. He never was.
But for a second, she wanted to pretend. She wanted to pretend that he’d never said all those awful things. She wanted to pretend this was their wedding night as it always should have been, and he was kissing and worshipping her because he adored her.
So when he kissed lower and urged her thighs open, she let him.
His mouth touched her most intimate place. She squealed in shock and shame and— And pleasure.
“Marcus,” she murmured, meaning to ask him to stop.
But he began to suckle at the top of her sex and his finger dropped to explore, teasing at places she herself had never touched.
She never even used tampons, so to feel someone—and not just someone, to feel Marcus, oh gods—
And the things he was doing with his mouth—
Cora heaved shocked gasps, in and out, tossing her head back and forth because it was the only part of her body she could actually move. She grasped onto the silk scarves. She needed something to hold onto, something to ground herself as the wild, shocking sensations rose higher and higher—
Oh gods, she didn’t know what to do with— If this didn’t— Where was this all going—
“Ohhhhh!” Her squeal faded to a high-pitched whine as pleasure rocked her body, as suddenly as if she’d been shocked by a jolt of electricity. She felt it to the tips of her toes as her legs went rigid. For two counts of her heartbeat, it was all perfect.
And then it was over and Marcus was crawling up her body.
She blinked back to the moment, trying to get her bearings.
Marcus. Who wasn’t her beloved after all. Who’d only married her for revenge.
But would he still make love to her now?
He was straddling her body and she could see his…his sexual member. He’d pulled it out of his pants. Veins stood out on the long shaft. It was darker than the rest of his body and pulsing.
And it was huge. Huge.
Was he going to try to stick that inside her?
Even as horrible as things stood between them, with the way he’d made her feel, would she object?
Yes, her mind said. Her heart on the other hand… It was pathetic, she knew, to want any part of this terrible man. And yet—
But Marcus wasn’t trying to stick it in her, it looked like.
No, he was taking his long, thick shaft in hand and rubbing it up and down. Ruthlessly. Viciously.
Cora should look away, she knew.
But she’d never seen one. And to see Marcus so naked, not literally but figuratively— She looked up his taut stomach and into his face, only to find him looking down at her.
She couldn’t read what she saw in the half-second before he lowered his gaze to he
r breasts. Cora didn’t look away, though. She continued watching his face as he pleasured himself.
He gave himself over to it, that much was clear. In this one thing, at least, he either didn’t bother with keeping up his mask or he simply couldn’t. Cora saw a million things in the vulnerable, longing scrunch of his brow—or at least she thought she did.
It made the pleasure that had barely subsided in her rear up again. Her hips jerked involuntarily, looking for friction. But Marcus was too far away, all but straddling her breasts.
He continued to work himself for several more moments and then threw his head back.
Cora’s face jerked down when warm wetness splashed her chest. She looked on in astonishment as spurts of white cream erupted from the head of his huge shaft as he tugged it more mercilessly than ever.
When he’d finally emptied himself, he looked down at her, his chest heaving. He reached down and rubbed his seed all over her breasts, squeezing her nipples as he went.
Cora shuddered, so turned on and shocked by the entire thing. Did people normally do this in bed or did Marcus see this as some sort of punishment? It all felt so good.
Marcus climbed off the bed. “You like that, don’t you? Then make sure to smile for the camera.”
“Wha—?”
But Marcus was already snapping pictures with his phone. Pictures of her naked body, smeared with his—with his—
The blood left her face. “You said you wouldn’t!”
“Naïve little Cora. All’s fair in love and war.”
“Really I don’t even need this.” He dropped the phone on to the bedside table. With a dark smirk, he pointed to the corner where two walls met the ceiling and held a dark shape of a second camera, its tiny bright eye blinking red. “Video makes so much more impact than photos, don’t you think?”
Cora bit her lip, unwilling to give him anything after how cruel he’d just been to her. He laughed, and it wasn’t a nice laugh. This really wasn’t her Marcus. That man had truly never existed.
If she needed any more proof, him leaving her all alone in the room, tied up with his seed drying on her chest certainly did the trick.
Ten
