Page 104 of Necessary Cruelty

I’m glad he doesn’t let go of my hand as we leave the house and are plunged into darkness. The pathway to the pool house is barely lit and I would probably head in the wrong direction if Vin wasn’t leading the way.

“Are you guys behind on your light bill, or something?” I grouse.

“Giselle thinks that lighting the house attracts vandals or thieves. Most of the outside lights have been switched off.”

I wonder if he ever feels afraid out here alone in the dark.

The pool house is smaller than I thought it would be, less like a cool bachelor crash pad and more like an abandoned flophouse people sneak into when they want to get high. There are beer cans and empty liquor bottles littering every surface. Dirty clothes are piled up in the corner, and I recognize a shirt that he last wore weeks ago.

“I thought you guys had maids.”

Vin makes a beeline for the fridge. “They’re on orders not to come out here. Giselle says she doesn’t want them finding drugs and reporting me.”

“When did you move out of the main house?”

“Some time in middle school, I think. Definitely by freshman year.”

I bet that was Giselle’s decision, too. It doesn’t seem like there is much love lost between Vin and his stepmother, with his father too oblivious to notice.

I never would have thought it possible for me to feel pity for Vin Cortland.

“You mind if I clean up a little?”

He turns back from the open refrigerator, a strange expression on his face. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

His gaze follows me as I start filling the trash can with empty cans and other trash. No way am I carrying any laundry back to the main house in the dark, but I gather it all into the hamper and push that into the corner of the bedroom.

The bed has clean sheets on it, so at least Vin’s lack of fastidiousness doesn’t extend completely beyond the pale.

When the room is slightly less of a biohazard, I collapse onto the leather couch. I’m exhausted, but somehow still wired. Vin settles next to me with two beers and a plate with several slices of pizza on it.

“Leftovers from the weekend.” He sets the load down on the table. “Better get used to takeout if you want to eat around here.”

I take a bite of pizza and nearly come on the spot. “You could have warned me about the green machine. That food looked like it had already been eaten.”

“Don’t worry. Thankfully, family dinners are a rare occurrence.”

The pizza goes quickly. It doesn’t escape my notice that he lets me have the last piece, even though I’ve already had more than him.

“You’re trying to fatten me up,” I comment.

“Whatever works. I don’t want you passing out from hunger the next time I fuck you.”

The words shimmer between us.

I set down my plate on the narrow coffee table. Vin is already reaching for me before it drops from my fingers, and it lands on the wooden surface with a clatter. He doesn’t give me the chance to check if the plate has broken.

Vin kisses me hard and forces me back against the leather couch. My legs spread wide as he settles between them, his mouth never leaving mine as his body shifts over me.

The already hard kiss turns biting before he pulls back to look at me. His hands run up my ribcage to my breasts, until one of them wraps around my neck. “You married me, Zaya. That makes you mine.” His mouth presses against my neck until I feel the sharp edge of his teeth. “Every inch of you is mine. I decide when you eat. When you sleep. When you come all over my fingers.”

To punctuate his point, his other hand slips under my dress. I didn’t have a change of underwear at the vineyard and I wasn’t about to put the old ones back on, so I’m not wearing any. Nothing is there to stop his fingers from pushing inside of me. My own hands are trapped beneath my body, so I can’t stop him from ruching my dress up around my hips.

His tongue traces a line down the flat plane of my belly. He still has a hand pressed against my throat, not too hard, but enough that I won’t forget it’s there.

Holding me.

Controlling me.

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