Three words spoken on a gritty, deep voice. Three words that she understood their meaning, but was confused as to why they were said.
We're married, you and I. You are now my wife…
He’d told her that in the beginning, but the words hadn’t registered until just then. What type of insanity ran through this man’s mind that he believed he could claim such a commitment without bothering to ask for her acceptance in return?
Until death…
She didn’t know whether he was promising her that release, or whether he was promising her he’d never let her go. And as her body trembled with bitter cold against the seething, burning hatred she felt, she stared at him, her heart empty, her soul betrayed.
Seconds ticked past, tension building between them until Alice wanted to scream, Just do it, you bastard!
But Max wouldn’t be hurried, wouldn’t be denied and wouldn’t be forced. He would take his time. Take his fill. Take whatever he deemed worth taking.
His eyes were locked to her body, his stare a palpable burn against her skin. Out of instinct and dignity, she pulled her arms around herself to hide her nudity, but a simple and subtle shake of Max’ head stopped her before she could cover herself completely. He didn’t need to speak to lay down the laws that governed her. The set of his eyes, a small movement of his head, the rigid posture of his shoulders and strong arms: those were the clues that told her to behave.
The strong and silent type had never been so demeaning.
She was as easy for him to control as any person would be, the fight she’d always trusted inside her destroyed by one constant threat that hovered above them all: hurting those she loved as punishment for her wrongdoing.
The English monarchs had it right, it seemed, because it was the only threat that cowed her so thoroughly.
She wouldn’t break beneath him, wouldn’t allow her mind to shatter as easily as her heart. She wouldn’t give him her soul as easily as she was giving him her body.
With slow, controlled movements, Max unbuttoned his shirt until it hung open to reveal the strong physique hinted to by the taut pull of the material across his shoulders and chest. Shadows highlighted every curve of his pecs and abs, the V that ran down from his waist to bury itself beneath the waistline of his pants. Before this day, she would have been powerless to refuse the advances of a man as beautiful as Max Frost, and even now with the darkness so obvious within him – the cruelty of his touch, the crimes he’d committed against her – she was still powerless to resist his seductive charm.
However, fear was still her constant companion. Fear and anger for everything he’d taken and she’d lost.
The buckle of his belt clanged like a soft whisper across the room. His pants pulled open, but not pulled away. He stalked towards her with smooth, unhurried movements, allowing the pressure to build with each solitary step he made.
His wasn’t a violent rape, but it was rape just the same. He left her no options for refusal, no room with which she could retreat. His was the most insidious type of violence, violating her body while at the same time violating her mind.
You’re allowing him to do this…
You haven’t told him no…
The tears fell faster as those words assaulted her thoughts, the reality that she had given up and given in to his dark and sinister desires.
When he was finished taking her, she wouldn’t have him to blame alone. She didn’t fight like her instincts screamed for her to do. She didn’t have to be forced by crushing blows or the threat of death.
No. She simply lay down and let him win.
The bed sunk beneath his weight. A prowling tiger whose shoulders moved with a feline grace, he crawled up to hover above her. His heat was a blanket that covered her, his blue eyes the cool, icy threat that sent chills across her sweat dampened skin. Caged against the mattress by strong arms that were as thick as they were rigid, Alice forced herself to close her eyes. But he wouldn’t give her that escape.
“Look at me when I fuck you.”
There was no anger to his tone, however every cold syllable dripped with the threat of sensual violence.
She opened her eyes, her breath catching in her throat as Max’ head dipped down so that his tongue could taste the tears that were still relentlessly falling.
Her head fell back against the bed, his hand brushing over her hair where it fanned out across the mattress. With one swift flick of his wrist, he tangled the hair around his fist, pulling her head back further until her neck arched painfully, his teeth sinking down against the skin hard enough to draw blood.
Crying out, her body bucked beneath his weight, and she stared at him with frightened eyes to see the blatant desire written across every inch of his dangerous expression.
His lips glistened with the remnants of her tears. Locking his gaze to hers, a gaze that was every bit as cold as it was staggering, he said, “You wanted to know your monster, Alice. This is what he is.”