And the sad thing was, I meant every last word of that statement.

  Chapter 7

  —Tristian—

  The number of reporters outside of the church was fucking insane. Of course, my grandfather was insistent on answering every question the press threw at him as he walked into the church, making sure to pay tribute to his family. Most of the guests I didn’t know from a hole in the wall. I recognized the faces of the men who mattered; they were the only ones of importance to me.

  There I was…

  Turning the pages, opening the next chapters of my life with a woman I never thought I’d see again. To have Belle in my life, not just once, but twice, wasn’t lost on me. If anything, it only made me appreciate this second chance that much more. I tried to keep my mind focused on the present. However, I couldn’t help but remember the last time we were at a celebration of this magnitude.

  Belle’s debutante ball.

  I wasn’t supposed to be there, though that didn’t stop me. I showed up for the girl who’d always meant something to me. From the first time I talked to her, Belle had the ability to take me out of myself. It was easy to let my guard down around her. Right from the start, she was different from all the other girls. Our families rivalry might have been my initial draw to her, but it quickly became something else entirely. Something I couldn’t walk away from until they’d left me no choice and sent me away.

  Inhaling a deep, solid breath, I waited for my bride at the altar. Suddenly, the music began, and in walked our wedding party, followed by Belle Montgomery.

  Soon-to-be Mrs. Hawkins.

  My wife.

  I watched in avid fascination at how gorgeous she truly was. How she stood out from everyone in the church, like she always did in our town. She was stunning, stealing all the air from my lungs without even trying. Her long blonde hair was pinned to the left side with loose curls framing her beautiful face. The neckline of her white lace wedding gown was low in the front, flawlessly framing her luscious body. The dress accentuated the curves of her petite yet curvy frame with a train at least twenty feet behind her.

  She looked classy.

  Proper.

  Angelic.

  Mine.

  I was captivated by not only her beauty, but by the way she was stubbornly glaring at me as she walked down the aisle. Fully aware I was enjoying every second of her having to come to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. There was no denying the magnetic pull I felt with her mere presence.

  It was a tightrope, my immediate possessiveness over her. Even after all this time, the desire to own from her mind to her heart, to every goddamn hole in her heavenly body was still there, alive and present, breathing new life into me. Each deliberate step she took brought her closer to our future.

  To me.

  For the last fifteen years, I’d lived and breathed Hawkins Industries. It was my entire life, and nothing came between that. I hadn’t seen her since the night I’d snuck in through her bedroom window, like I was still sixteen, to slide the ring on her finger. Now it was shining bright like a fucking beacon, fitting her perfectly like I knew it would. Despite not seeing her until now, it didn’t stop me from thinking about her. I craved the feel of her silky skin and longed for her addicting scent while counting down the days until I could claim her once again.

  She felt it too.

  It was why the seething glare on her face pointed openly in my direction. She wore it proudly. It was her defiance of what was to come…

  Our marriage.

  It was her shield.

  Her guard.

  A fucking wall she’d built the size of Texas.

  Once she was standing in front of me, her father lifted her veil, and I sucked in a visible breath at her beauty. He kissed her cheek, then firmly placed her hands in my sturdy hold, handing her over to me. The significance meant more to me than she could ever know. I couldn’t help but find her reaction entertaining. It was evident she fucking hated me, and I couldn’t have cared less if I tried. Despite my lack of not giving a shit that she didn’t want to marry me, I wanted to show her I wasn’t her rival anymore.

  In my last attempt at creating some sort of bridge between us, I spoke the truth, “You look gorgeous, kitten.”

  She slightly blushed, evoking one of my favorite emotions out of her before she murmured, “You look nice too.”

  I grabbed her hand, bringing it up to my lips to kiss it. The pulse on her wrist was beating fast against my fingers.

  Unable to resist, I called her out on it. “Good to know I still make your heart race.”

  She tried yanking her hand out of my grasp, but I held onto it tighter, wanting to prove my point that I still had an effect on her. I didn’t let go of her hand throughout the entire ceremony, rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. For the next hour, we had our traditional Southern wedding. My stubborn bride kept her concentrated stare on the minister. Her body was tense, and never once did she glance my way.

  “Tristian,” the pastor announced, letting me know it was time for our vows. “Please repeat after me.”

  I didn’t need to. I knew what I wanted and couldn’t live without anymore. Before he began, I turned to look deep into her eyes. With the back of my fingers, I caressed the side of her face, and she lightly gasped from my touch.

  There was no hesitation on my part. “I, Tristian Hawkins, take you, Belle Montgomery, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death do us part, kitten,” I vowed, whether she wanted to believe it or not.

  —Belle—

  From the moment I stepped into the church, it was one thing after another. The guests in attendance, some I recognized, others I didn’t. I tried to pretend as if this was just another part of my job, sacrificing my life for the woman I’d become. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, the hours into what felt like days as I stood there with Tristian at the altar. I felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. He held my hand throughout the entire ceremony, grazing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion against my skin.

  I’d be lying if I said it didn’t calm me in a moment of pure panic. The familiarity of his touch was evident in the way my body responded to his simple gesture, making the ceremony move much faster. Once the minister turned to Tristian and said to repeat after him, I thought I was going to pass out.

  I never expected him to face me and shift his hand up to caress the side of my face. The way he conveyed his vows to me was another emotion I hadn’t predicted. I wasn’t prepared for the effect this man still had on me. Words couldn’t express how much I wanted to hate him, but at that moment, I didn’t know what I felt for him. His vows felt so real, confusing his role in my life.

  Did he mean them?

  And now…

  The pastor nodded for me to repeat after him. Suddenly, my throat locked up and my chest seized, tightening to the point of pain. It was my turn, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Instead, I played along, once again pretending like this was just another meeting, another thing I had to do to prove to my grandfather that I was worthy of being the heir to his dynasty.

  With all the courage I could muster, I peered into Tristian’s gaze, trying to find the boy I once loved and not the one who’d hurt me for years after he’d left. I didn’t see either of those things. The only thing I saw was my future flashing before my eyes.

  “Belle, please repeat after me,” the minister ordered.

  I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t speak.

  I was barely breathing.

  In and out, Belle. One deep breath in, one deep breath out.

  As if reading my body language, Tristian reached for my hands and held them in his firm grasp. The simple caress of his touch calmed me all over again.

  I did as I was told like always, repeating, “I, Belle Montgomery, take you, Tristian Hawkins, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,’til death do us part.”

  What did I just do?

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—”

  A deep growl within my newlywed husband’s chest erupted before he crashed his mouth onto mine with a sudden passion I wasn’t anticipating. Instantly, my lips burned as he kissed me in a way I’d never been kissed before.

  Or maybe I had… When he kissed me the first time.

  Memories of that evening tore through my mind at a rapid speed. I couldn’t keep up with where I was at the present time. Part of me was there with him while the other part was sixteen and had never been kissed before. His lips devoured my mouth, quickly making me realize this wasn’t just a kiss.

  This was all possession.

  His claim on me.

  It was primal.

  Heady.

  Dominant in every way.

  His soft tongue.

  His scent.

  His body pressed against mine.

  It was all too much.

  He was all too much.

  I was his now…

  Whether I wanted to be or not.

  Chapter 8

  —Belle—

  The reception went off without a hitch. Everyone celebrated what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. The liquor flowed, the music blared, and all in attendance carried on getting louder and louder as the hours ticked by. Handing us cards filled with nothing but money. I wanted the reception to end, but my night would only be getting started. Tristian would make sure of it with his body on top of mine.

  We did our first dance.

  We cut the cake, he fed me, and I did the same.

  I threw my bouquet, and Paige caught it.

  I counted my small blessings that our families didn’t authorize the removal of my garter with Tristian’s head in between my thighs, calling it tacky and unnecessary. Instead, I handed it to him with a satisfied expression, knowing he wasn’t exactly thrilled he wouldn’t have the opportunity to touch me in that way yet.

  He grabbed the blue garter out of my hand, but at the last second he dragged me with it.

  He whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, kitten. My face will be buried in between your legs soon enough.”

  I swallowed hard and pulled away from him.

  Except, he only tugged me back against his solid chest, adding, “The next time you deny me, I’ll fuck my come so deep inside your pussy, it’ll be dripping out of you for days. Just so you know who you belong to.”

  He let me go with a growl, pissed I won this round.

  I relished in my victory for as long as I could, but in the blink of an eye, we were in a private elevator on our way up to the honeymoon suite, which was in the hotel where our reception had been held. It didn’t take long for the metal doors to slide open, revealing the biggest, most lavish room I’d ever seen. The space was enormous, covered in daises. There wasn’t an area that wasn’t covered with vases upon vases of them, including petals on the bed.

  “I had them add the daises for you, kitten.”

  I couldn’t believe he’d remembered they were my absolute favorite flower. I walked into the penthouse, knowing Tristian was stepping into the suite behind me. Every time I heard him take a step, it mimicked my pounding heart. Finding refuge in the bourbon that was on the liquor bar, I popped it open and chugged down shot after shot. The whiskey burned my lungs, making me feel numb. Exactly how I wanted to feel.

  Tristian’s commanding presence instantly echoed off the walls. “That’s enough, Belle.”

  I didn’t listen until he ripped the bottle out of my hands.

  “I said you’ve had enough.”

  “Oh, sir,” I mocked, feeling feisty. “You’re acting more like my daddy than my husband.”

  Taking a swig of the bottle, he grinned. “Well then, I’d love nothing more than to take you over my knee and spank your ass.”

  “That’s never going to happen.”

  “Never say never, kitten.”

  I teased, “Do you want me to be your bad girl, Tristian?” and immediately regretted my words.

  “Not as much as I want you to be my good girl.”

  Somewhere in the last few minutes, he must have taken off his tuxedo jacket. It was hanging over the back of the couch. His tie hung loosely around his neck while the top buttons of his shirt were undone too. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, radiating so much power and authority, I found myself sucking in a breath.

  Fuck … how much did I drink?

  My thighs clenched with my mouth suddenly dry.

  Arching an eyebrow, he baited, “Like what you see, kitten?”

  “Not as much as you do.”

  “I’d like to see less of what you’re wearing. How about you be my good girl and show me what’s underneath all that lace?”

  The greedy expression on his face had my heart racing.

  “Are you just going to stand there and be all you?”

  He deviously grinned. “I’ve been called worse things.”

  “More than likely by me.”

  He scoffed out a chuckle while his fingers moved to his mouth. Back and forth his thumb rubbed along his bottom lip with nothing but intrigue written all over his face. Studying my stance, his turned predatory, and I found it almost hard to breathe.

  “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to rip my dress off.”

  “Who says I don’t?”

  Unable to hold back, I blurted, “Whose dress did you rip off last night? Who was your last hurrah, Tristian? Some young model who can barely drink?”

  “Jealousy looks good on you, kitten.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was stroke his ego, so it was definitely the booze that was talking for me.

  Stupid bourbon.

  He pushed off the wall. “I’ll tell you when you say please.”

  “You’re asking me to beg you to tell me who you had sex with last night?”

  Our eyes connected, and he didn’t say a word.

  I had no choice, giving him what he wanted. “Please.”

  “See,” he bit. “Was that so hard?”

  “I gave you what you wanted, now answer my question.”

  “If you gave me what I wanted, you’d already be naked and riding my cock.” Once he was standing in front of me, he argued, “What if I was with someone last night?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “You think I could do that? Fuck another woman the night before I’m marrying you?”

  “Why not? You used to have sex with different girls all the time before you’d see me.”

  “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”

  “I know you more than I want to.”

  “Says the woman who is now my wife.”

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “I thought I just did.”

  “So you did hook up with someone?”

  Waiting for his response was pure and utter torture until he finally revealed, “I haven’t fucked anyone since we got engaged.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I can’t win with you, can I?”

  “That’s all this is to you. It’s all I’ve ever been to you. One big game you can’t win.”

  “You’re carrying my last name, kitten. I already won.”

  “You always knew the right things to say.”

  “So you love to remind me often.”

  “Whatever.”

  “That’s a mature response.”

  “Considering you love to court women who are half your age, I think it’s actually pretty fitting.”

  “I don’t usually fuck eighteen-year-olds. Twenty-one is more my speed.”

  “Ugh. You disgust me.”

  “I know what you’re doing, kitten.”

  “Oh yeah? What am I doing, Captain Know-it-all?”

  “You’re trying to pick a fight with me, thinking I won’t fuck you if you’re angry with me, but, kitten, you and I both know how much I love to hate fuck you.”

  Before I could say one word.

  One. Freaking. Word.

  He slammed his mouth onto mine, instantly gripping onto my wrists and pulling them above my head. I panted into his mouth, frantically trying to gather my bearings from his tight, possessive hold, both on my lips and wrists. My body trembled with undeniable fire.

  Every part of my resolve crumbled all around us.

  Breaking.

  Shutting down.

  With my husband’s mouth against mine.

  Weakly, I thrashed around. Ignoring the pain in my head and the throbbing in my heart. The damage he caused as he devoured my lips. Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breathing, my thoughts, my core.

  He loosened his grip, slowly brushing his lips against mine, and caused me to open my eyes. I saw all our memories fly through his gaze, one right after the other.

  The first time we talked.

  The first time he kissed me.

  Touched me.

  Made me his.

  When his heated, tormented stare became too much for me to take, I turned my face, but he gripped onto my chin and forced me to look at him again.

  “You don’t get to hide from me, kitten. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

  I grimaced, hating that he knew me so damn well.

  We stared at one another for what felt like hours, both of us lost in the past we couldn’t change.

  “What are you doing to me, Tristian?”

  “I’m just reminding you of what we’ve always been to each other.”

  “I’m not that naive sixteen-year-old girl anymore. You can’t manipulate me this time.”

  “The only thing I want to do right now is make you come on my cock, Belle.”

  He growled, crashing his lips onto mine again. His free hand slid down the side of my body, and in one rough, demanding tear, he ripped my dress off. Buttons flew everywhere and fell onto the ground. My dress pooled at our feet. I was left in nothing but my panties, garter, and heels. I didn’t have time to register what was happening before he quickly spun me around, shoving the front of my body against the wall.