“You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you? Showing your husband, the love of your life, how much you appreciate him?”

  “I don’t recall getting married, and there isn’t a ring on my finger. Therefore, there’s no husband to appreciate.”

  “You have a ring,” he replied without missing a beat. “You’ve got two. In fact, I’ve had your rings for years.”

  “That can’t be true.” I shook my head, denying the plausibility.

  “I won’t lie to you, deliciae. Especially about something as important as that.”

  “But you…you were wearing a ring when we first met.” I eyed his hands, noting they were still absent of that particular piece of jewelry.

  “That was more for me,” he acknowledged. “I wanted the world to know I was taken.”

  I half snorted, covering my nose and mouth when he laughed. “Do you think a ring would stop women from wanting you? It definitely wouldn’t prevent a man from…”

  “Fucking other women?” he finished with a smirk. “I’m well aware, but the difference between men like me and men like that is I have impeccable self-control and only desire one woman.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it. I promise you here and now, I will kill any woman that dares to touch what is yours. And if it pleases you, I’ll make sure they die slowly.”

  “I don’t want a promise like that!”

  “Too late,” he quipped, slicing off another piece of steak.

  Was he being sarcastic? It was hard to tell. He had a disturbing sense of humor and an equally disturbed personality.

  “Are you being serious?”

  “I wouldn’t make that kind of a promise and then take it back as a joke.”

  I idly speared a piece of asparagus, finding myself at a loss for words. Alexander wasn’t a child unaware of the concepts of right and wrong. In fact, it seemed as though he relished the thought of taking a life. It horrified me. Every instinct screamed that this was wrong, that I had yet another reason to be repulsed by him.

  But I couldn’t walk away from the table.

  My self-preservation and need to cope with what was happening immobilized me. Things would go very badly for me if I did something that landed me chained up again—or worse, dead. So, I kept eating, telling myself this was fine, and I’d keep repeating it until believing it was second nature.

  "Why didn’t you just choose someone from this Isle? Someone that was fully on board with your way of living and customs?”

  “I’ve done that already. Even if things had worked out—and as you can see, they did not—it wouldn’t have mattered. In the end, it’s always going to be you.”

  “Is that another attempt at flattery?”

  "It’s nothing but the truth. I don't need to flatter you to win you over. You’re already mine.” The way he emphasized mine made me recognize how serious he was being.

  “Everyone keeps saying I’m here for a reason. It’s fated.” I spoke calmly, proud that my voice was steady and unshaken. “You’ve had someone here that understands you and everything this place is. Why couldn’t you be with her or one of these other women?”

  He took a measured sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine as he placed the glass down with deliberate slowness before leaning back in his chair.

  "Come here." His voice was soft yet carried an undeniable command.

  It took more effort than I’d have liked to shove down the apprehension those two words inspired. Choose your battles. Too bad I was losing every single one of them. With a deep breath, I hesitated momentarily, then pushed my chair back and stood, taking cautious steps toward him. His perusal was intentionally slow, amber eyes looking me over from head to toe.

  “I want you to sit, but when you do, imagine you’re going to fuck me just like this.”

  I swallowed, catching my lower lip between my teeth as I stepped closer. He made no attempts to move as I placed my hands on his shoulders and then eased onto his lap. I was forced to place my legs on either side of his body, my dress rising in the process.

  Once I was straddling him, he wrapped one arm around my waist to hold me in place. “See? You fit perfectly.” His voice was low, still deceptively soft. “I could have any woman I want on or off the Isle. I chose you then. I’m choosing you now. I’ll choose you ten years from now.”

  "You can't make that claim," I whispered, a desperate attempt to assert some semblance of control.

  "And you can’t keep denying that I already have," he said simply, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. “You're home now. All that’s left for you to do is find yourself. I’m going to help you do just that."

  His beautiful eyes held a raw honesty that was as surprising as it was unnerving. This wasn’t a game to him. There was no doubt in his mind that we belonged together. My heart twisted painfully.

  This scared me far more than his promise to kill in my honor did. Those were strangers’ lives. This life was supposed to be mine, but then he looked at me as if I were the very center of his universe. He did everything in his power to know me inside out, down to the most trivial detail, and I knew if I asked, he’d say my life was his.

  I panicked.

  "Did you do these things for the wife you sent to the butcher?" The words tumbled out to serve as both a sword and a shield.

  His reaction didn't betray any surprise, as if he had expected me to stumble upon such dark secrets. Instead of answering, he leaned closer, his lips meeting mine in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand slid down, coming to rest right above the branded name on my thigh, a tangible reminder of what he’d done.

  "I've never dealt with a woman who didn't understand her place. That alone should tell you how much I adore you.”

  “Your naivety, Lolita, is truly endearing, luckily for you." A hint of something more serious laced his voice as he continued, "I’m not ashamed of what happened with my first marriage. It isn’t a secret. I did the right thing and allowed Melanie to give back to the Isle, to depart with grace at the end of a blade. It was a fitting end."

  So, it was true. He’d sentenced her to death like some medieval dictator. He noted my shock with an amused grin. "Don’t look at me like that, you’ll hurt my feelings. Did you expect me to lie to you? Deny it?" he asked, his tone teasing.

  He suddenly reached around me, his movements forceful yet controlled. He cleared the table, sending dishes clattering to the floor to shatter apart. I flinched, my arms automatically winding around his neck as he stood up.

  He held me effortlessly, gently placing me amidst the scattered remains of our dinner.

  “Alex—”

  He silenced me with a soft, chaste kiss, his fingers tenderly caressing my face. “You're the most stunning thing I've ever seen. That's been true since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “And when was that?”

  “Why don’t you try and figure it out?”

  He stepped between my legs and ran his hand through my hair, fisting a handful of it, tilting my head back and ensuring I couldn’t look anywhere but at him. There was a sting of pain, but it didn’t hurt. I knew that could change in an instant. I remained still, as if caught by a predator any movement would provoke, my heart beating so fast I feared it was seconds away from falling out of my chest.

  "I'm going to share something with you, something most people don’t know.” He paused as if to make sure I was paying attention despite my inability to move.

  "My relationship with Melanie didn't end at the butcher's block. It ended a few hours before that."

  “W-what do you mean?”

  He pretended to think about his answer, marginally tightening the grip he had on my hair. “I sliced her open while I was buried inside her. I started at her belly button and stopped at the center of her throat.” He gave me another light kiss. “I was determined to remove all the pieces of her I didn’t like, but after I took out what bothered me the most, I realized I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d made her an empty sack of flesh.”

  My heart stuttered. I gave up trying to form words after my fourth attempt. His admission hung in the air, heavy and undeniable and voiced without shame.

  “You killed her,” I breathed.

  He gave me a hooded, almost boyish smile. “‘Killed’ is a rather tame word for it, but yes.”

  He regarded me for a moment and whatever he saw on my face had him slightly softening, warm assurances infusing his words as he began to massage the back of my head soothingly. “Don’t cry, deliciae. I won’t ever do that to you. I found her naivety to be fucking pathetic. I adore yours. Why do you think I’m sharing something so personal? It’s so you know how much you mean to me.”

  I shook my head and tried to put some distance between us. “Stop saying that.”

  “I won’t stop. You are pulcherrimum thesaurum. I’m going to love you madly.” His declaration, spoken with such conviction, left a tumult of emotions swirling within me, an unsettling blend of fear, disbelief, and a dangerous flicker of a desire that sickened me to my core after his confession.

  It shouldn’t have been in the realm of possibilities. His arms caged me in, his dominant nature an overwhelming force as he drew my body against his. "It’s your turn now. Tell me, what's your type?"

  His sudden shift in topic caught me off guard. I stammered, taken aback. "I... I don't have a type."

  His smile widened, a dangerous, mesmerizing curve that sent a chilling sensation racing down my spine. "Wrong answer, deliciae. I'm your type," he stated firmly, a smoldering intensity in his eyes. "For transparency’s sake, the only thing sparing Nicolette is that she stopped you from making a grievous mistake."

  More confusion clouded my thoughts and I shook my head, struggling to follow his meaning or the rapid pivots of his conversation. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin.

  "The man you saw across the street today while you were at the confection shop. Why were you staring at him?"

  My heart skipped a beat, the memory of the familiar face from the resort flashing in my mind. How did he know about that? I remained silent, a sense of dread settling in my stomach. As he continued to scrutinize me with piercing eyes, I struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

  Nicolette's warning echoed in my head, confounded by what he’d done to his previous wife. And that was only the first one. Where was the second?

  I scrambled for words, not believing for a single second that I wouldn’t become the missing third if he felt I had wrong him somehow. "I was just curious why he was standing out there. I hadn’t noticed men around while we were window shopping. Not any that belong here, anyway," I explained, hastily adding, "Not that I was looking at anyone else. I wouldn’t."

  Alexander's expression remained unreadable as he scrutinized me, calculating.

  This was insanity.

  He’d just divulged he had brutally murdered his wife because he didn’t like something about her, and now we were delving into what felt like an interrogation because I’d looked at another man. The shift was jarring, leaving me off balance and uncertain.

  His low, sudden laugh was devoid of any genuine warmth and only heightened my unease. As he released my hair, his hands found their way to my thighs, sliding upwards beneath my dress with a deceptive gentleness. His touch sent a mix of alarm and involuntary responsiveness through me.

  “You won’t betray me, Lola. You’re too good a girl to destroy us like that.”

  “I’m not good, Alex,” I practically whispered, torn between agreeing with him and remaining somewhat genuine.

  “You are to me.” He trailed his fingers over his name and then teased my center, running his digits over my silk underwear. "I'm not insecure, nor do I have any reason to be jealous, but the mere thought of you looking at someone else...someone looking at you…I can't handle it," he stated, his voice a low murmur as his fingers traced over his name again.

  "It’s partially my fault, I suppose. I didn’t explain the boundaries beyond our home.” His hand moved higher until he was gripping my underwear, roughly tearing it off me. An involuntary whimper slipped through my lips as my dress bunched around my hips and only his slacks separated his cock from pressing fully against my pussy.

  I could feel how hard he was—and there wasn’t any denying how wet he’d made me with his twisted way of speaking.

  And, of course, he saw it.

  His eyes briefly dipped between my legs before flitting back to mine, alight with something predatory, mingling with an unmistakable hint of pride. The depth of his stare was disconcerting, revealing a hunger that seemed to go beyond the physical.

  “Boundaries?” I questioned, barely holding my voice steady.

  “I’ve made it clear which men can and cannot speak to you. They know the consequences of defying that decree,” he explained calmly. “If you find yourself having to smile at anyone, especially someone not of our community, keep it brief. You’re beautiful, fucking stunning when you smile. It wouldn’t take much for someone to misinterpret that as an invitation.”

  He cupped my pussy and dipped one finger inside me, and then another, slowly pumping in and out. “If someone asks for your name, you give them mine.” The finality in his voice left no room for argument. I grabbed his shoulders, biting into my lower lip to suppress a moan.

  “Tell me you understand,” he murmured in my ear.

  "I understand.”

  "No. I don’t think you do. But you will," he replied quietly.

  I wished he’d just yelled. I wasn’t used to someone being calm and collected, even when they were enraged. It didn’t help that his insight into my thoughts was almost enough to undo the last bit of my composure. He pulled his fingers out of me and grabbed my thighs, dragging me to the very edge of the table. Before I could draw another breath, I found myself turned around.

  He bent me over, crushing my chest into the smooth wood. One hand slipped beneath my hair to grip the back of my neck, and the other began to undo his belt.

  “Alex?”

  A slight squeeze was his only reply. My stomach dipped at the faint sound of his zipper sliding down. The smooth head of his cock brushed against me a second later and a fresh burst of panic set in.

  “No.” I pushed back but couldn’t move. He was far stronger than me, even hardly trying. I’d found that out the first time I’d woken up and he was already inside me.

  “That’s only going to make it worse, Lola.” The hand he had around my neck slipped around so that the edge of his palm pressed against my mouth. He took a firm grip of my ass cheek and pulled it aside, placing the smooth head of his cock between them.

  “Please. Please don’t do this,” I pleaded, trapped between him and the table.

  “The sound of you begging only makes me want you more.” He nudged my legs farther apart with his knee. “I’m only claiming what’s mine.”

  “Fuck you, Alex.”

  “That mouth…maybe I should fuck that next.” He bent over me, beginning to push forward. “Bite down, deliciae. This is going to hurt.”

  With one brutal thrust of his hips, he was inside me, forcing his way past any resistance and tearing the sensitive muscle. I screamed, biting into his hand as pain blindsided me. He withdrew and then thrust back in, burying every inch of his cock inside my ass.

  “Just breathe, beautiful. It’ll get better,” he soothed, his tone giving no indication he felt my teeth sinking into his skin.

  I bit down harder, and blood filled my mouth. My vision swam with tears as he began to move.

  It felt wrong.

  It fucking burned.

  He set a brutal pace, driving into me hard enough that the entire table wobbled, sending more dishes to the floor where they shattered apart.

  I cried out with every thrust, screaming and incoherently pleading for him to stop. At some point, my water glass tipped over, sending the cold liquid straight towards my face, where it was pressed into the table so hard, I knew there’d be a bruise.

  Alexander suddenly wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked me up, forcing my body to bow back as his cock sank deeper into my ass. My cry was muffled by a sob.

  “You feel so good, Lola,” he groaned, rocking into me.

  His other hand slipped down and reached between my legs. He began to play with my pussy, adding a finger and then withdrawing to rub my arousal on my clit. Pain and pleasure gradually began to mix, my entire body trembling as it became trapped in some fucked-up torment between the two.

  “Alex,” I cried out as my legs began to shake.

  He released his hold on my hair to grab my throat, forcing me to maintain my posture as he cut off my air flow. It didn’t take long for dots to begin dancing across my tear-filled vision. I gripped his wrist and dug my nails in as hard as I could, unable to speak and demand he let go.

  He eased up enough for me to suck in a breath, and then began to squeeze again. He repeated this until I was too lightheaded to stand. My entire body felt as if it were floating.

  “Come for me, deliciae,” he demanded, sounding far away. The pressure on my clit increased and he fucked me harder. My pussy contracted and my ass clamped around him as pressure built inside me. “Come,” he ordered again, his voice cold.

  I couldn’t make a sound when my climax hit, sending a wave of heated bliss spiraling through me and momentarily blacking out my vision. Alexander kept going until he found his own release, holding my body against his.

  He came with a low grunt and remained inside me for what felt like hours before he slowly pulled out of my ass. I shuddered and slouched down onto the table, another sob catching in my throat. What the hell had just happened? I could feel him dripping out of me.

  With a tenderness that belied what he’d just done, he gingerly turned me back around.

  I glanced down and wished I hadn’t. There was blood smeared all over his cock.

  “I wasn’t planning on making you cry tonight,” he remarked almost playfully as he took my face in his hands. “Still beautiful as ever.” He leaned forward and stopped a tear with his lips. “Even when you cry.”