Page 31 of Trapping His Darling

At the shop, I did the gentleman thing and opened Tiffany’s car door, reached over to unclasp the seatbelt, and helped herout. Once on her feet, she tried to pull her hand out of mine, but I held fast. I wanted her to feel my ownership.

She smiled coyly, as if she had been testing me, then rewarded me by clinging to my arm like a loving girlfriend. It made me feel good, and my sour mood a little less bitter tasting.

I opened the door to the ice cream parlor, enjoying the sweet and cool smell that rushed into my nostrils. Tiffany beamed and bounced excitedly at my side. I looked down at the way her eyes seemed to glow in child-like joy and wonderment, at all the flavors and colors. No wonder people like Sasha and the rest of my men underestimated her. She seemed too innocent to be capable of the brutality that she could, when she wanted, bring upon another human.

Despite this, there was this innate need inside of me to care for her. Make her feel good. To let her know that I could love her darkness, the same as I could love her light.

“Hi, what would you guys like to order?” the young-ish cashier asked in Russian.

My woman leaned toward me and signaled me closer, and I hunched a bit so she could cup her free hand around my ear. She was being shy, and I never knew something like that could turn me on, but I was. I liked that she trusted me to see to her needs, to hide herself from the world even in public, giving only me her attention.

“Can I have only a half-scoop of fat-free vanilla ice cream?” she whispered.

“Only a half?” I murmured, confused.

She whispered in my ear again, “I’m on a diet.”

I felt the warmth of her face near mine, and knew she was blushing from embarrassment.

Rage raced through my veins. This gorgeous creature thought she needed to slim down? If anything, she needed to pack on a few pounds. I needed her to be strong enough togive birth to my child. Thick thighs, wide hips, and large ample breasts for milk. These were the traits we sought in women to carry strong heirs. Women who were not afraid to eat, who could ensure a healthy son that they could then push out and nurse.

“You will have more than half a scoop,” I damn-near growled. “And you will not diet. I won’t allow it.”

She blew out a heavy breath. “Fine,” she quietly conceded. “A scoop of normal vanilla.”

“No. You will have a sundae.”

She shook her head. “I won’t eat it.”

I smiled tightly at the cashier and reverted back to speaking Russian, to inform the employee that I needed to borrow the store’s freezer for an undetermined amount of time, and that I didn’t want to be disturbed.

The young woman behind the counter blinked at me owlishly. She nodded, as her face drained of color. Though she likely wanted to say no, out of the fear of what her boss would say, I know she recognized me, and if not me, the signet ring I wore. I was scarier than her boss could ever be.

Trembling, she pointed behind her head. The poor girl probably wondered if I would be dragging her to her death in the back, but that was not the case. My littlemilyyneeded to be taught a lesson regarding her self-worth. No woman of mine would be less than. Not even in her goddamn thoughts.

I thanked the cashier, then pulled Tiffany toward the swinging doors behind the counter. She tried to take her hand out of mine, but I wouldn’t allow it.

When she dug her heels in, I grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck and forced her through. I spoke only when we cleared the swinging barriers.

“You will never again defy me, especially when we are in public. Do you understand?”

When she refused to answer, I unlatched the old walk-in freezer and propelled her into the dimly lit room. I flipped the switch to illuminate the space, then after checking to make sure we could get out, closed the heavy door behind me. I removed my blazer and placed it aside.

“Take off your clothes,” I demanded.

She glared at me.

“Take. Them. Off.”

Even though her eyes welled, the tears did not spill. Interesting turn of events, considering that mymilyydidn’t seem to be the sensitive type. An arrogant man would have brushed this off, but I was not stupid. The cold, empty glare in her eyes told me that I had not only hurt her feelings, but I had pissed her off, and she had turned from sweet submissive to sexy serial killer in an instant.

It was thrilling, really. True, I was in danger, but I welcomed the challenge of conquering such a formidable foe, before sinking my aching cock into her weeping slit. She had a body made for fucking.

Not breaking eye contact, she took off her dress, revealing her supple dark skin, without a blemish… or undergarments.Naughty girl.The cold tightened her nipples, and goosebumps sprinkled across her skin. She was trying not to show me how uncomfortable she was in the cold. I relished the pain it brought, and she would learn to love it as well.

She was fucking perfection. I would not make the same mistake weaker men had made, in underestimating this little darling. She was mine. She would always be mine. Until death did us part. And she needed to realize that I was not like the others. There was a good reason why they were dead, and her virgin blood was stainingmycock, while their dicks were in glass jars.

I stalked towards her.

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