I hated that he was so gorgeous.

  My eyes were drawn to a darkly shaded tattoo on the right side of his chest, an intricate depiction of a devil in his likeness, extending partially down his arm. It was a work of art that bespoke a sense of power and dominance, marking him as something both formidable and enticing.

  There was an obvious bulge beneath the towel that had my mouth going dry. He didn’t seem to be aroused right now, or at least I assumed he wasn’t, which I supposed was a good thing.

  I hadn’t remotely begun to process that part yet—what he’d done to me, how good it had begun to feel despite the pain and traumatic prelude.

  He stepped forward, his feet making no sound on the hardwood floor as he approached the bed. "Venite, come," he said softly, his voice laced with an understated command as he extended his hand toward me.

  I hesitated for a moment.

  The tendrils of unease and vulnerability I felt in his presence were undeniable, but there was also the twisted, inexplicable curiosity that tugged at me. This wasn’t a battle worth fighting. If I refused, he would just drag me from the bed. So, despite my reservations, I slowly took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.

  “Easy,” he cautioned as I found my feet beneath me.

  I winced and bit back a hiss of pain. Soreness radiated from every muscle and the area between my legs felt as if it had been abused by a heated pole. He led me toward what I assumed was the bathroom, his touch surprisingly gentle as we crossed the threshold.

  I took it all in, slightly awed.

  The gothic undertones and luxury of his bedroom were present here as well, from the arched ceilings to the chandelier that hung gracefully above the massive, obsidian jacuzzi tub already filled with water. He wordlessly helped me step down into the bathtub.

  I almost sighed out loud as I sank into the warm, inviting water. Frothy bubbles served as a barrier between my naked body and his piercing stare. I was relieved when he excused himself and left the room.

  The water held a scent that was uniquely his with a hint of the body wash I’d used the night prior.

  It was almost as if he had taken the time to create an environment that catered to my wellbeing. It was hard to compare this man to the one that forced himself inside me while I slept and branded my flesh. At the reminder of the mark, there was an ache where it had been placed. I explored the area with my fingers, drawing them away when a sticky substance brushed against them.

  I examined my fingertips thoughtfully, catching a whiff of something similar to aloe vera. So, he hurt me, and then applied a salve? I returned to my examination, tracing over the mark. It was a letter inside of a circle—an A. More than likely the same one I kept seeing. I had no idea what it represented—the story of my life lately.

  The only thing I was certain of was that Mr. Hawthorne wanted me as his… what was the word he used? Electi? I didn’t know what that meant either. I was pretty sure the people here were fluent in Latin, or maybe Spanish. And then there were those other women that had been branded before I was. Who were they?

  I sighed and sank deeper into the water, closing my eyes for a moment. A soft thud had them flying back open. I glanced around the room but didn’t see anything or anyone. To my left, a large walk-in shower with intricate fixtures beckoned.

  The space was large enough to host a small gathering and even had a stone bench in its center. On the back side of the room, a partially open door seemed to lead to a sprawling walk-in closet. I could see a glimpse of dark colored clothes on hangers but not anyone inside.

  To the right of that door was another, and if I had to guess, I’d say it led to the toilet because there wasn’t one anywhere else. I slowly turned my body, creating a silent ripple in the water. There were two bowl sinks side by side atop a sleek marble countertop. The sinks were a juxtaposition of elegance and functionality.

  Above them hung a massive mirror. It stretched across the expanse of the wall, its frame a work of art in itself that held a hint of antiquity, capturing and reflecting the subdued light that filtered in through the arched windows.

  I continued turning until I was back in my previous position and could gaze beyond the confines of the bathroom. The wall of curved windows framed a breathtaking view of the lake. The water's surface shimmered under the early morning sunlight, casting a serene and hypnotic spell.

  I could just make out the silhouette of a lighthouse in the distance. It added an eerie touch to the scene, a beacon that seemed to guide lost souls but was unable to reach mine. Immersed in my thoughts and quiet solitude, I almost didn’t see Mr. Hawthorne until he was on the other side of tub.

  His presence alerted me to his arrival seconds before he stepped into my line of sight and wordlessly commanded attention.

  “Mind if I join you, deliciae?" he asked, his voice a low purr. It was a question as much as it was an invitation, a challenge, and a promise. He removed the towel with one hand, leaving it to drop to the floor.

  A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through me as he stood unapologetically naked. The sight of his bare form was both unexpected and arresting. I inadvertently traced the contours of his toned muscles, his body a canvas of strength and power. I tried my best not to look at his cock and failed.

  The fragile walls I had erected were on the verge of crumbling. I forced myself to meet his gaze, smoothing my expression into a blank slate. His eyes held mine, revealing nothing and everything all at once. A faint smile played on his lips as if he knew the effect that he had on me. I think he reveled in it.

  He got into the tub, and the way his muscles flexed with each movement accentuated the vast difference in our sizes. I felt small and delicate, almost fragile in comparison. He settled across from me, and though his bathtub was spacious, it no longer felt so massive. The water seemed to shift to accommodate him. I was even more thankful for the bubbles now. They were the only thing keeping him from seeing all of me.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone laced with an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite decipher.

  I looked at him warily, leaving his question to hang between us for a moment. "Do you want the honest answer, or the one that will placate you?"

  A faint quirk of his lips hinted at amusement, but his expression remained composed. "The honest one, always," he replied, his gaze steady and unwavering.

  "I'm sore," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The admission felt raw, a confession that held a vulnerability I hadn't intended to reveal.

  “That’s to be expected,” he replied with a gentle acknowledgment. "Come closer.”

  I blinked, staring at him with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, unmoving.

  "If you don't, I’ll simply come to you," he quipped, his gaze holding mine with a challenging glint.

  Pick your battles, I reminded myself as I begrudgingly complied.

  I coasted my body across the tub until scarcely any space separated us. My pulse quickened as a myriad of scenarios began to play out in my head.

  "You are truly exquisite," he remarked, his voice a gentle caress as his strong hands encircled my waist and pulled me closer until I was all but straddling him. A tremor coursed through me, my thoughts attempting to turn back to the night before. I focused on his solid chest so I didn’t have to stare at his face.

  He reached for something, and then I felt the cool sensation of body wash. His touch was unexpectedly gentle as he began to wash me, his movements deliberate and unhurried. I was acutely aware of our proximity, his presence enveloping me in a way that was disarming. His fingers traced my skin with a reverence that felt almost foreign, treating me as if I were a rare and fragile treasure.

  The water around us seemed to hold an electric charge, every brush of his hand as he lathered the body wash with a soft sponge. His breath fanned across my neck, sending small flutters of sensation through me. My desire was a tangled web of apprehension and shame.

  The circumstances of my situation were at the forefront of my mind. A part of me felt weak for not fighting him, but another argued I already had. I’d tried and epically failed to fight him off. He hadn’t even been using a fraction of his strength then. An actual fight was out of the question. There wasn’t any telling what he would do to me if I pissed him off. A man had just had his eyes gouged out and a woman lost her tongue for incurring his wrath.

  All I could do for now was appease him without trading my soul in the process. There was a village with regular people—I hoped.

  If I could somehow get back to there, my chances of escape would be significantly higher.

  “You know,” he began, interrupting my planning. “You looked beautiful last night, and you impressed me.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  He chuckled at my quick rebuttal. “I was prepared to have you drugged if you decided to behave stubbornly. I always knew you were level-headed. Intelligent to a fault.” He squeezed excess water from the sponge and then continued using it to caress my skin.

  I silently repeated what he said back to myself, taking a quiet breath before I spoke. “You say that as if you know me.”

  “I do. I’ve been watching you for a long time, deliciae.”

  “The trade show only lasted a day.”

  “I met you long before then.”

  “When?”

  I was positive I’d never encountered this man before. We were two worlds apart, his completely different than mine.

  The resort was the only place a confrontation between us could’ve happened, even if only in passing.

  “That’s not important right now.” He reached for more body wash, still holding me with one arm around my middle. “You were meant to be mine, Lolita. From the time you took your first breath, and long after you draw your last.”

  I tensed as he lowered his mouth to the juncture of my neck and brushed his lips against my skin, a trail of goosebumps following in their wake.

  “Seeing my brand on your beautiful body as you came all over my dick again and again is a memory I will cherish.”

  My cheeks flushed with a mixture of contempt and a strange exhilaration. I could remember it all too vividly. But I wasn’t ready to go there mentally or verbally.

  “Why an A?” I blurted, desperate to change the subject.

  “This?” He moved my hair over one shoulder and began to lightly trace around the brand, causing me to flinch. “Not only does it look good, it feels good too. It will be even better when it’s had time to heal.”

  He made it sound as if he were talking about more than the mark. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I’m surprised I didn’t draw blood. “The A means something, right? I… I saw it a lot yesterday.”

  “Do you think I would allow it to be on your body if it didn’t?”

  “I guess not…”

  “The A honors the surname Alistair. It’s a symbol of my family’s emblem.”

  Hearing that, I finally looked at him. Against the ethereal backdrop of the lake, with the sunshine softening the sharpness of his features, he looked otherworldly.

  His face was the epitome of masculine beauty, and in any other circumstance I might have been captivated the same way I was when I first saw him.

  “Alistair? Your last name isn’t Hawthorne?” I asked slowly, processing this revelation as I sought confirmation.

  “Hawthorne is an alias.” He raised his hand and brushed his fingers over my cheek. It was a touch that could’ve been considered tender if not for the man touching me.

  “I suppose the A has a double meaning where you’re concerned.”

  “Your name?” I guessed; the question was no more than a whisper as everything sank in.

  “Alexander Alistair,” he revealed with a note of pride. “You catch on quick.”

  Alistair. That sounded so familiar. As my perception rapidly shifted, a fresh dose of fear seeped into my veins. I decided right then that his alias was preferable to the real thing. Hawthorne was nothing. Mr. Hawthorne was the insane rich guy channeling his inner Kevin Wendell. But Alexander wasn’t some random psycho holding me captive.

  After what occurred last night and everything I’d seen, I knew his name was a symbolic moniker.

  It didn’t simply hint at danger and darkness—that’s what it entailed. I felt like he’d just shared something that was usually hidden, binding me further to him and to the sinister world I had been thrust into. I wanted him to take it back, or at least pretend I hadn’t heard.

  “My beautiful girl,” he implored almost mockingly, now tracing along my jawline. A dark amusement danced in his eyes as he sensed my inner turmoil, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his lips. He seemed to relish in my unease with a twisted satisfaction.

  "There's no need to be afraid," he murmured, his fingers now creating a maddeningly gentle pattern on my skin, moving across my back. "My name holds power, yes, but it also signifies a connection. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “We don’t have a connection,” I countered, my mind feeling as if it were on the verge of shattering into a million pieces.

  “I’ll prove it to you.” Suddenly, his hand was gripping the back of my neck. "Kiss me.”

  “What?” I tried to lean away; his grip tightened.

  His gaze didn’t waver. He stared at me with his gorgeous topaz eyes, reaffirming his command with silence. I swallowed, struggling to keep myself on his lap as his cock brushed against my apex. He’d gotten hard the second I straddled him. I’d been doing my best to ignore it.

  The task was becoming increasingly difficult. He was blessedly endowed unaroused. The opposite had me wondering if he’d really been all the way inside me. Leaning in, my heart raced as our mouths met. The kiss was a collision of conflicting emotions. The touch of his lips against mine was electric.

  He groaned, nipping my lower lip so hard I whimpered. He soothed the sting with his tongue and deepened the kiss. I didn’t have the chance to wonder what I was doing or if I was doing it right. He possessed me entirely with his mouth.

  My hands had somehow wound up on his shoulders, my breasts pressed against his chest. His cock brushed against my entrance, and then he was inside me, a low curse spilling between us.

  There was an unexpected pleasurable burn from his rough entry. All the soreness from the prior night refreshed. His cock filled me and then kept going. My pussy was forced to stretch and adjust around the sheer size of him.

  “Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed, holding me tightly. He began to guide me up and down, breaking our kiss just as something between a moan and sob tore from my chest.

  The water sloshed, spilling over the side of the tub. I could feel how wet I was even submerged, my body creating a natural lubricant as he forced me to ride him. I moaned helplessly, struggling to keep him from going so deep inside me.

  The effort was futile. He drove me down onto him with ease. His face didn’t convey any noticeable signs of pleasure, but the way his muscles tensed and the way he held me did. I looked him in his eyes and dug my nails into his shoulders, trying to hurt him a fraction of the way he had me and ward off my pleasure.

  It triggered the opposite reaction.

  His eyes lit with a twisted delight. He kissed me roughly and then pulled back with an animalistic growl. “You are perfection.”

  I could feel the pressure mounting inside me, along with shame and a sick thrill that slithered into my brain at the sound I pulled from him.

  This was normal—my body was reacting naturally. It had nothing to do with me. I’d keep telling myself this until I wholeheartedly believed it.

  “What are you thinking about while my dick is inside you, deliciae?”

  “Home,” I managed to spit at him, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

  He started to laugh, and to my surprise lifted me up. “You and I are going to have so much fun together.” He turned us completely, our new position placing him behind me and my body over the stone ledge of the bathtub.

  No longer fully submerged, the chilled air had gooseflesh traveling over my skin. He spread my legs with a knee and gripped one of my slippery hips, plunging back inside me before I could fully comprehend what was happening.

  It stole my breath away.

  This new position and without the water made every sensation more severe. He was so big I spread my legs wider in an attempt to lessen how full I felt, crying out in pain as he grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to arch and look up at him as he rode my body.

  “When I’m fucking you—you’re fucking me—the only time you should be able to speak is when you’re begging for more or screaming my name.”

  “Please,” I rasped, tears burning in my eyes as his cock pounded into me.

  “Yes. Fuck, Lo. Just like that,” he praised, hitting an angle that had the pressure in my core building at a terrifying intensity.

  Small waves of pleasure began rolling through me, my pussy tightening around him. His wet skin slapped against mine, creating a rhythmic sound that was nearly drowned out by moans he was eliciting.

  When the final wave of pleasure rolled through my body, a cacophony of screams escaped me as I came.

  He continued thrusting, his tempo never waning as I became immersed in heated bliss. His hand still in my hair, he slowly began wrapping it around his fist.

  “Now,” he commanded darkly, his voice low as he drove into me. “Say my name.”

  I tried to give him what he wanted but couldn’t reply, too overwhelmed, warring with my body and mind. His other hand slid from my hip to between my legs, his fingers gently stroking my clit. I whimpered as a smaller wave of pleasure washed over me, another building right behind it.

  “Alex,” finally spilled from my lips as I was forced to endure another orgasm.

  “Good girl,” he soughed, allowing himself to come with measured thrusts and a guttural groan now that he had what he wanted.

  I trembled beneath him, my breaths ragged and choppy. Instead of pulling out right away, he wrapped both arms around my body and pulled me away from the ledge of the tub, holding my back to his chest as he kissed my shoulder and then my neck.