Our Finest Moment ✔️

28

LIANA

The hotel room is more like an apartment. Though, I barely get to see any of it before Colton pushes me into the bedroom, towards a huge four poster bed with bright white drapes. The room looks too pure for what I'm sure is going to happen in here any moment, and in a way that adds to the anticipation.

"I hate that son of a bitch," Colton sneers as soon as the door to the bedroom smashes shut. "He just had to ruin our day."

I arch a brow and fight a smile. The danger of hoping he means something more than he does makes my heart flutter. "Our day?" I echo, taking a few steps to create some distance between us.

"Isn't it our day, little one?" He closes the distance I managed to find, and then he has me against one of the poles on the bed. I can't help but imagine myself tied to it. "You were such a good girl," he says, raising his chin a little as his thumb runs across my lower lip, pulling on it. "If anyone doesn't believe that act you put up to defend me, they're blinded by your beauty."

"I wasn't sure you'd appreciate that," I admit.

"You're strong, and your stubbornness is going to put you in so much danger." He chuckles, his hand closing around my throat, and the familiar burning sensation embeds itself inside the depths of my belly. He adds huskily, "But I can break the neck of anyone trying to harm you."

"That's doubtful," I retort, daring to meet his stare, "since you're the one with a hand around my neck, and the deal was to marry you, or die."

He chokes a chuckle, making the sound so disturbed and violent that I barely remember to breathe. The smell of whiskey mixes in with his expensive cologne, fighting for dominance in my nose while he studies my face.

I'm not sure why he's just looking at me, but I'm thankful for the extra few seconds to think and gather myself. We both know what's going to happen behind those white drapes, and even though I've been craving it since he cut my panties off the first time, I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be real—to consummate it.

"You're mine," he finally growls, the two words so heavy, yet so easy. "I can do whatever the fuck I want to what's mine, Liana."

He's right. He absolutely can. And I'm at his mercy, and legally, yes, I'm his. I won't submit in any other way than sexually, though, and I hope he knows that. But I also know—based on his reaction downstairs—that he won't do anything if I refuse, and that knowledge comes with a feeling of power I never thought I'd ever experience.

It's like I'm the one in charge, even if he's the one who chokes and bites.

"Can you?" I ask, even if I'm already breathless from his closeness. "Even if I say no?"

"You won't say no, little one." He's quick to reply, and as soon as that damned nickname is out of his mouth, he lowers his lips to my jaw and places kisses on it that makes my insides burn.

I want to say no, just to spite him, but I know he won't believe me. He will most likely torture me with sweet kisses and heated looks until I say yes. Would he cross the line and do what he wants? I don't think so, but I don't want to find out either. So instead of worrying about that, I find myself saying, "You're right."

"What was that?" He moves his face so he's directly in front of me, his neck bent so his nose can touch mine. "Say it again," he coaxes.

I shudder. I open my mouth to say it again, but he pushes the air from my lungs by reaching behind me to the zipper on the tight dress.

"Say it again, Liana," he orders as his fingers tug on the zipper, "and use my name."

Having to take a moment to gather myself, I stare at him as if he's the only man in the universe. He might as well be. He's my husband now, my one and only, until death do us part. "You're right, Colton," I whisper, just as the zipper reaches the bottom, and the fabric loosens around my torso. "I won't say no."