I glanced around wildly, taking in my surroundings for the first time; I’d been too terrified to focus on the décor yesterday. The bedroom was a study in rich shades of red—from the burgundy walls to the Persian rug that covered most of the dark hardwood floor. A black leather armchair dominated the far corner of the room, set beside a drinks cabinet. A decanter filled with amber liquid sat atop it, along with heavy cut crystal glasses. Everything about the room exuded masculinity and wealth.

My attention turned to the bed. I’d noted the black metal slats that made up the headboard yesterday—when he’d cuffed my hands above my head, rendering me helpless to resist him as he claimed my body. My cheeks flamed at the memory, and I tugged the sheets up to my chin, covering my nakedness.

I yelped and clutched the sheets tighter when a door opened to my right. Steam rolled out of the bathroom, and Luca appeared at the threshold. He wore nothing but a towel slung low over his hips, his powerful body on display. A dusting of hair darkened his defined chest, tapering into a trail that led down his rippling abs before disappearing beneath the white towel.

He leaned against the doorjamb, and my gaze snapped to his. I flushed all the way up to my ears, knowing that he’d caught me staring at him. He truly was magnificent, even more powerful and imposing that I’d imagined in my most wicked fantasies.

I shook my head slightly, tearing my eyes from his. Those fantasies had brought me low and made me more vulnerable to him than I could’ve imagined. The pleasure he’d wrung from my untried body was mortifying, especially my arousal when he’d spanked me in the car.

It was horrifically wrong that I’d felt such bliss when he’d claimed me without my full consent. I’d chosen the pleasure over pain, but he hadn’t given me a choice when it came to surrendering my body to him.

My husband.

He’d forced me into this marriage. He’d kidnapped me and taken away my freedom.

My stomach dropped at the memory of my sister’s screams as I’d been carried off by the brute like I was his prize of war. Giana must be terrified for me.

I took a breath and skewered my new husband with a defiant glare. Better me than her. Giana was far too gentle and sweet for this beast of a man. I could endure his ruthless demands, but she would break beneath his onslaught.

His dark brows drew together at my glower. “In a bad mood this morning, kitten?”

“My name is Nora,” I snapped, not caring for the diminutive nickname. It reminded me of how I’d melted in his hands last night, and the shame of the memory was almost unbearable.

He cocked his head at me. “You prefer Nora over Elenora?” His deep voice caressed the more familiar version of my name, and I suppressed a shiver.