Page 5 of Dark Prince

“Come.”

His grip on my arm is firm but not painful, and despite the situation, I feel a thrill shoot through me at his touch. He leads me away from the ballroom, away from the eyes of the mobsters and their hushed whispers.

As we leave, I catch a glimpse of Sharon watching us with a satisfied smirk. Her expression sends a wave of disgust through me, but I also feel a hint of relief at getting away from her.

“Where are we going?” I ask quietly as we navigate the hotel’s corridors.

Luk doesn't look at me as he answers, his voice low and controlled. “It's time for us to consummate our marriage.”

His words send a wave of fear, curiosity, and inexplicable excitement through me. I'm about to be alone with this man, a man who is now my husband yet remains a stranger to me. A man capable of brutal violence, yet who just saved my life.

The irony of my situation is not lost on me. I'm leaving behind one kind of monster only to jump into bed with another.

Chapter 3

Maura

Luk leads me through the opulent hallways of the hotel, our footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor. We approach an elevator and ascend to the top floor, where he unlocks the door to a penthouse suite that exudes old-world luxury, seamlessly blended with modern touches.

The suite is spacious, with high ceilings and grand windows that offer a breathtaking view of Chicago's skyline. The furniture is a blend of rich, dark woods and plush fabrics, and contemporary art pieces dot the walls, adding a touch of modern sophistication to the classic surroundings.

My heart pounds in my chest as I take in the setting.

“Is this your usual suite?” I ask, my voice tinged with nervous interest.

“Yes,” Luk replies curtly, briefly glancing around the room before his eyes settle back on me.

“Are the men you were with tonight your family?” I ask, hoping to learn more about his life. And that woman is your sister?”

“Correct,” he answers, his tone giving nothing else away.

Luk moves to a small bar area, his movements precise as he prepares two drinks. The clink of ice into a glass and the splash of liquid are the only sounds in the otherwise uncomfortable silence that fills the room.

He offers me one of the glasses, but I hesitate. “No, thank you.” Although a drink sounds like heaven, especially under the circumstances, I want to keep my wits about me.

Luk doesn't insist. He simply takes a sip from his own glass, his gaze sweeping over me. Those blue eyes—hungry and sensual—seem to see right through me. I stand there, caught in his intense stare, feeling a confusing combination of fear and attraction.

He steps over to the expansive window, his silhouette framed against the glittering backdrop of the skyline. The city lights twinkle like distant stars, casting a soft glow on his features. He takes a slow sip of his drink as he gazes at the view outside.

“You are my wife,” he says, the hint of a Russian accent coloring his words. His statement hangs in the air, a simple fact laden with complex implications.

“Yes,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. His tone is unreadable, leaving me unsure whether he's stating a fact or expressing an emotion. “I suppose I am.”

He turns to face me, his eyes piercing as he takes another sip. “Remove your dress,” he commands, his voice low but firm.

My first instinct is to rebel, to assert my autonomy, and to refuse his order.

No way. The words form in my mind, but they don't make it past my lips.

He holds my gaze, unflinching, then says, “We are married, and this is our wedding night.” Then, in a slightly softer tone, he adds, “And I have wanted you like mad since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

His admission catches me off guard and sends my heart racing. There's an intensity in his eyes that's both intimidating and alluring. Compelled by his words and an unexpected desire, I find my hands moving of their own accord.

With trembling fingers, I reach for the zipper at the back of my dress. The fabric slowly slips away, revealing my skin inch by inch, the dress cascading to the floor in a whisper of silk. I stand there, vulnerable and exposed, under my new husband’s intense stare.

As I stand there in my underwear, feeling exposed yet strangely empowered, Luk approaches me. His eyes trace over every curve and contour of my body. I'm surprised to find myself reveling in his inspection, the way he looks at me stirring something deep within. My pussy clenches, yearning for him.

My emotions are all over the place—desire mingled with resentment; attraction coupled with apprehension. It's all so overwhelming, so intense, and happening far too quickly.

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