Bitter Vows: A Twisted Arranged Marriage Romance (Crimson Falls Duet Book 1)

by Dani René

  “You’re a fool.” Those are the last words I spew at my brother before the line goes dead. My gaze locks on the man I’m praying will give me good news, but instead, he shakes his head.

  In a fit of rage, I fling my phone against the wall, watching it shatter into tiny pieces before it lies on the soft carpet of my office. The team Kahn had tagging Darius fucked up, and now Isaac wasn’t able to trace the call.

  My brother is clever.

  And I’m fucking fuming.

  “Isaac, go to the office and let Kahn know we’ve fucked up once again. Tell him I want this sorted. I want the whole team, not just two fucking imbeciles on the case. Darius needs to be found, and he needs to be found right fucking now.”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Shaw,” Isaac says as he quickly packs his laptop and tracing device away. The moment he’s gone, I crack the knuckles of both my hands to stay calm, but the thought of my brother evading me once more only seems to make me angrier.

  I spin around, facing the two ex-soldiers who are standing in my office. “This is why I asked you to keep tabs on him. How the fuck does he keep disappearing?” My fist slams against the wooden top of my desk, the thud loud and resounding in the office space. Anger surges through me as my men stand before me, shaking in their fucking combat boots.

  “Sir,” one of them says. He’s been with us for a few months, and Kahn swore he’s good. They knew each other while serving, but I’m not impressed with the bullshit they’ve fed me. The excuse is that they had taken a wrong turn, and the car Darius was in sped off in another direction. It’s amateur, and I’ll be talking to Kahn about it. “We fucked up, I understand, but we do have a location. We know he hasn’t left the vicinity—”

  I pin him with a glare which shuts him up quickly. “And how would you fucking know that?”

  “The second team that was tagging him has scoured the roads. They picked up the SUV he’s been driving.” My rage eases slightly. Having my brother close by is dangerous because we’re both volatile around each other.

  “Then go back out there and find the fucker!”

  They don’t respond. Their answer is feet shuffling quickly out my office door. When I glance at the exit, I notice a pretty redhead staring at me with wide eyes. Last night, I took her once, and the second time, I tried to be gentle, but with those nails scraping down my back, I fucked her hard, and I’m certain she’s still feeling the aftereffects.

  “Come here,” I command, allowing the anger to slowly dissipate because the sight of my soon-to-be wife walking toward me barefoot and dressed only in my shirt makes my dick take notice, and my mind focuses on her instead of the fuck up of my men.

  “You sound angry,” Scarlett observes, her gaze raking over my creased shirt and my slacks. I quickly pulled on this morning when Kahn called. When she reaches me, her hands cup my face, her thumbs circling my stubbled jaw. I had no time to shave this morning because I was too wrapped up in her naked body.

  “I am. I was.”

  She tips her head to the side, her pretty lashes fluttering along her cheeks as she whispers her question. “Why?”

  “My brother has evaded the tail I put on him.”

  “What is it about you two?” she questions, genuine curiosity dancing in her eyes as she watches my reaction, which is more than a wince, perhaps a grimace at the idea of retelling the story about my brother.

  “Go and get dressed. I want to take you to Heaven,” I tell her, ignoring the question but rather craving to have her in my club, in my private room where I can dominate her until I’ve had my fill.

  Her mouth pops open as if she’s about to ask why, but I pin her with a look that says don’t ask questions. She moves effortlessly from my office, and I quickly tap out a message to Kahn to ensure it’s all set up for when we arrive. Tonight, my little red will learn more about her future husband and just how he enjoys his games.

  30

  Scarlett

  When we walk into the club, the breath is knocked from my lungs. The dark yet decadent interior is drenched in pure elegance. This is not what I expected when Lycan told me it’s a club where people come to act out their most salacious fantasies.

  Black and silver.

  Deep tones of red and purple.

  Low lights that only offer hints of depravity.

  My first impression of Heaven is that its name suits the club. Everything drips with lush opulence. Even though I imagined it being more of a dungeon, a play on the idea of heaven, it’s not. The black leather sofas that line the circumference of the club look soft and inviting. The bar is steel and wood, giving off the allure of luxury. Women and men fill the dimly lit space, some on their knees, others on stage. A scene playing out at the moment is of a woman bent over and bound, the man behind her spanking her with a wooden paddle.

  I’m out of my depth.

  So much so that I can’t stop my face from heating in embarrassment. But Lycan’s gentle touch at the base of my spine grounds me, and I turn to look up into those forest eyes.

  “Are you scared?” he asks while leaning in close. The music is a low, sensual drone of classical music—a soundtrack of the desire sparking through the room. The air thick with lust, and all I can feel is Lycan against me.

  “No.” I glance at the scene again, the man now fingering the woman, her legs spread lewdly for the audience as she screams with pleasure as his four fingers slip between her slick, glistening folds. Desire burns through me at the thought of being open like that for Lycan, feeling his fingers dip into my body as he takes me higher.

  “Is that something you’d want to try?” he whispers in my ear, sending more heat traveling down my spine all the way to the apex of my thighs.

  “I… I don’t know if I can.”

  He chuckles, the sound vibrating through him and into me. “Trust me, little red, you’ll be able to take it. That isn’t something I’d do on the first go, but we can most certainly get you wet enough to take my hand.”

  The thought causes my nipples to harden against the soft lace material of my bra. My heartbeat thrumming between my thighs, and my panties are already wet with arousal.

  “And I’d love to hear you scream, just like she is right now,” he warns over the echo of the submissive coming hard all over the stage. Her body wracked with pleasure as she shakes and trembles. Her face is etched in ecstasy. There’s no doubt she is in heaven right now.

  “I need a drink,” I tell Lycan who only smiles as he leads me to the main area of the club. There are waitresses and waiters dressed in black and white who expertly hold trays of drinks as they swish amongst the guests. Lycan pulls me into his hold, my back to his front as I look around. His body is large, cocooning me against him.

  “Lycan,” a soft purr comes from our left, and I glance over my shoulder to find a beautiful woman with long blonde hair standing beside us. She’s draped in a sheer, black dress with lace underwear visible through the material. Her nipples are pierced with silver barbells, and a blush warms me from face to chest. I instantly recognize her, the same woman from the gala at Bardot Manor.

  “Nice to see you, Lori,” Lycan greets her, but his hold on me tightens. Her blue eyes find my hazel ones. “This is my fiancée, Scarlett,” he informs her, his voice controlled, calm, but there’s a hint of satisfaction that elicits a smile from me.

  “Nice to meet you.” My words are sweet, but they’re not entirely friendly or free of jealousy either. I didn’t for one moment think Lycan didn’t have a past, but the thought of this woman coming near him at any point has envy coursing through me.

  She doesn’t respond, merely nods before walking off, leaving me glaring at her exposed back. The dress she’s wearing is barely there, and I wonder why she bothered.

  “Who is that?” I don’t look at Lycan as I ask this, because if I had to be honest with myself, I don’t want to see any desire in his gaze for someone else. The possessiveness is new to me, catching me off guard.

  I’ve never been that
girl, who would lose her shit over another woman. If a guy is easily swayed, then I’m not the one for him. And vice versa. But right now, with the ring Lycan gave me weighing heavily on my finger, I feel his grip tighten.

  “That is nobody,” he tells me. “She was someone I spent a few scenes with, and she meant nothing to me, not like you do.”

  Turning in his arms, I stare into his gaze. “I can’t mean that much to you, not yet. I know we’re getting married, and most times, it means you’re in love with someone to walk down the aisle, but I don’t want to fool myself into thinking I’m nothing more than a means to an end for you.”

  My acceptance of what Lycan and I are, came late last night. While I laid in bed alone, I thought about it. Knowing I will never have a marriage filled with love, I convinced myself I’d make myself happy. Perhaps if I had someone who could offer me what I lacked at home, with Lycan’s agreement, of course, I could survive long enough to let Lycan have his vengeance.

  It might sound stupid, but if I don’t have another choice, I have to live with what life has thrown in my way. And that’s something I learned from reading books. Where the heroine is forever looking out for herself, no matter what, I’ll do the same.

  “If you ever think you mean nothing to me, you’re sorely mistaken,” Lycan says, catching my attention, bringing it back to the here and now. “I may have signed a contract to marry you, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t slowly burrowed your way into my mind.”

  I note how he doesn’t say, heart. He is convinced he cannot love. And even though my plan to make him fall for me has fallen by the wayside, his admission makes me think perhaps without trying, I could still accomplish it.

  “Then show me your world,” I whisper, allowing my lips to feather along his, earning myself a growl of need. The wolf that Lycan keeps locked away within him is hungry, and he bares his teeth when I bite down on his full lower lip.

  Lycan’s animalistic hiss is nothing short of feral and wild. Even though we’re amongst guests only a few feet away, I want nothing more than for him to touch me again. Memories spark in my mind like fireworks on the Fourth of July. He takes a step toward me, eating up the few inches that were there before, and his hand grips my hip possessively.

  “Every fucking man in this room right now wants you,” he murmurs under his breath, reminding me that we’re not alone. That’s the problem when I’m near Lycan. All I can think about is him; all I see is him. He looms over me, like a giant, and I feel small and fragile.

  “No, they don’t.”

  A chuckle reverberates through him. “You’re far too fucking sweet and innocent. It’s a shame that I’m going to have to mar that beauty,” he tells me earnestly. “I’ll show you my world. I’ll train you to be the perfect little submissive, but there’s one thing I want from you.”

  “Besides the bitter vows, I’m meant to spew at our wedding?” I challenge, causing a predatory smirk to curl his lips which causes my stomach to twirl with nervous energy.

  “Let me tell you one thing, little red,” Lycan whispers along my cheek in a trail to find my earlobe, which he grazes with his teeth. “When you say your vows in a couple of weeks, they’ll not be bitter but filled with want and need. Because when I’m done with you, you’ll beg to be my wife.”

  His fingers dig into my hip, painfully reminding me of who’s in charge. He steps back quickly, as if he wasn’t there to begin with. And then, he’s leading me with gentle fingertips at the base of my spine as we move through the crowd.

  I’m utterly speechless, and that’s how Lycan guides me to the curved bar where two young, handsome men are working. One of them sees Lycan and straightens, offering a curt nod, but he doesn’t greet him verbally.

  “Simon,” Lycan says in a tone that underlies dominance. “My fiancée will have a white wine. I’ll have the usual.”

  “Yes, sir.” He moves quickly, grabbing glasses and setting them before us. The display of obedience is something I’m convinced Lycan enjoys. This is what he wants from me, no debating, no snarky comments, only obedience.

  Once our drinks are poured with a flourish and a hint of a smile, Lycan hands me mine and picks up his tumbler, which shimmers with amber liquid. “I’d like you to take it all in.” His gaze flits behind me, and I can tell there’s annoyance where moments ago there was happiness and comfortable satisfaction—as if he were home.

  When I turn, I find the woman, Lori, staring at us. She’s perfected the vamp look, and her sights are set on the man who’s right beside me. Tall, leggy, and someone I would picture Lycan beside rather than me.

  “Are you going to lie to me again?” I question, but I don’t turn to face him. I can’t see the denial on his face when he tells me she’s nothing to him.

  “Let’s go,” he answers, pulling me toward the back of the club, where we disappear down the hallway into a room decked in black. The reminder of his bedroom comes to mind, and I have a feeling this isn’t just a random room that can be used. This is Lycan’s bedroom of choice.

  “Who is she?”

  “The woman who took everything from me and left me with nothing. Now can you stop asking questions and take off your clothes,” he orders through gritted teeth. His free hand tangles in his dark hair, while his other brings the drink to his full lips as he swallows back the double shot of whiskey.

  This is not the way I thought this evening would go.

  Obeying him without debate, I slink off the black dress, and I stand before him in matching black panties and a bra that pushes my breasts together, giving me the illusion of cleavage.

  His hot stare takes me in from my heels, which are a dark red. His gaze trails me gently, and it feels like his hands are all over me.

  The straps of my shoes hold my feet as if it were Shibari rope binding my body. He stops his perusal briefly when he reaches the tie at the ankle, which is a silver clasp. My long, lean legs are bare, leading to my panties that are a delicate lace material, hiding what I know he wants to see.

  My flat stomach tingles when he eases his stare upward, and it stops on my breasts, which are encased in the same lace material as my pussy. My nipples peak, hardening against the fabric until he finds my eyes.

  “I want so much to hurt you,” he murmurs before setting the glass down. “I want to see you cry, make you scream.” His words instill fear, but the flurry of wings in my stomach confirm that I want it.

  “Is that what would give you pleasure, Master?” I question, using the word I only know from reading romance novels to affect men like Lycan Shaw.

  His smile is pure satisfaction. He didn’t expect me to say it, to gift him the title I’ve never before mentioned—his title of my owner. I step toward him slowly, and for a moment, I think he’s going to get angry, but instead, he watches like a predator.

  When I’m inches from him, I lower myself to my knees. The soft carpet under me is gentle against my skin, and I bow my head in a show of submission I know will turn him on. The thought has my pussy tingling, and I’m certain I’ll soon be wet with need.

  “Put your hands behind your back and look me in the eye.” His order comes out gruff and husky. And once more, I obey easily. Lycan steps back, taking in my kneeling form before he walks over to a cabinet against the far wall.

  A clinking of metal sends ice through my veins, but when he turns to regard me, I notice they’re only cuffs. At least that won’t hurt. When Lycan returns to me, he crouches behind me, binding my hands together.

  He helps me to my feet, and soon, I’m bent over the edge of the mattress, my arms straining behind me. My arms are bound with cuffs that fit around my wrists and forearms, allowing my hands to rest on my lower back, giving him access to my butt.

  Another click of something echoes in the room. Seconds later, I’m immobile because what I didn’t realize is Lycan had a spreader bar, which has now locked my feet apart. I would be bare to him if he were to pull my panties down.

  “Choose a safe word,” Lycan sa
ys. “Something you’ll remember, something unique. If you at any point say it, I’ll stop.” He crouches down, so we’re eye to eye, and I don’t recognize the man before me. The wolf has taken over. He’s no longer Lycan but a beast in need of feeding.

  The word comes to me easily, and with a smile, I say, “Wolf.”

  The corner of his mouth quirks, and he nods. Leaving me to stare at nothing but the wall on the far side of the bed.

  I watch from my viewpoint, which doesn’t allow me to see much. He moves across the room, fiddling with something in the corner, and when it sparks to life, I hear a stereo. Music drifts from the corners of the room, a familiar tune.

  Sofia Karlberg sings “Lonely Together”, and my heart aches in my chest when I listen to the lyrics as Lycan picks up a thick leather flogger. Nervous energy trickles through me when he nears me, and for a moment, I’m scared.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he tells me as if sensing my fear. “I’ll take it easy.” The agony in his voice makes my chest tighten, and tears spring to my eyes. I want to know what’s hurting him, why he’s doing this, but I don’t ask.

  When the first lashing of leather kisses my skin, a hiss escapes me. He doesn’t stop; he continues, another and another. With my arms behind me, the tips of the flogger touch my back in small spurts.

  Lycan lowers his attack to my ass, sending heated tingles to my pussy, causing mewls of pained pleasure to escape my lips. I screw my eyes shut in an attempt to focus on not coming, because surprisingly, I’m close to the edge.

  “If you come, I’ll hurt you. I promise you that, little red.”

  “Please, Sir,” I plead, the words coming to me easily because I’m not sure I can hold off. He continues his assault down to my calves and back up to my ass before he drops the flogger, and suddenly, an ice-cold item slides along my skin. When it slithers under the material of my panties, I realize it’s a blade.