But I don’t.

I’m not into self-deception. I never have been. When I abducted Nora, I knew that I crossed a line, that I sank to a new low. I did it with the full knowledge of what that makes me: an irredeemable beast, a destroyer of innocence. It’s a label I’m willing to live with to have her.

I would do anything to have her.

So instead of looking away, I hold her gaze. “Yes,” I say quietly. “I did.” My anger is gone, replaced by an emotion I don’t want to analyze too closely. Taking a step toward her, I lift my hand again and stroke the plush softness of her lower lip with my thumb. Her lips part at my touch, and the hunger that I’ve been suppressing all day sharpens, clawing at my insides.

I want her.

I want her, and I’m going to take her.

After this, she will have no doubt that she belongs to me.

10

Nora

Staring up at my husband, I fight the urge to back away. I shouldn’t have let Julian see my reaction to my new name, but I had been enjoying the shooting session—and Julian’s company—so much that I had forgotten the reality of my new situation. Hearing ‘Mrs. Esguerra’ fall from Lucas’s lips startled me, bringing back that disconcerting feeling of lost identity, and, for a moment, I had been unable to hide my dismay.

That moment was all it took to transform Julian from a laughing, teasing companion to the terrifying, unpredictable man who first brought me to his island.

I can feel the rapid beating of my pulse as his thumb caresses my lips, his touch gentle despite the darkness gleaming in his eyes. He doesn’t seem upset by my reckless accusations; if anything, he looks calmer now, almost amused. I’m not sure what I thought would happen when I threw the words at him, but I hadn’t expected him to admit his crimes so easily, without even a hint of guilt or regret. Most people try to justify their actions to themselves and others, twisting the facts to suit their purposes, but Julian is not most people. He sees things as they are; he’s just not bothered by the idea of committing acts most people would cringe at. Instead of a deluded psycho who thinks he’s doing the right thing, my new husband is simply a man without a conscience.

A man whom I both love and fear right now.

Without saying another word, Julian lowers his fingers and grips my upper arm, leading me toward one of the wide wrestling mats near the wall. As we walk, I catch a glimpse of the bulge in his shorts, and my breathing speeds up from a combination of anxiety and involuntary desire.

Julian intends to fuck me, right here and now, where anyone can walk in on us.

An uncomfortable mixture of lust and embarrassment makes my skin burn. Logic tells me this is not likely to be one of our more vanilla encounters, but my body doesn’t know the difference between a punishment fuck and tender lovemaking. All it knows is Julian, and it’s conditioned to crave his touch.