Page 129 of My Ruthless Husband

I can’t believe there was a time when I lived for his smiles. Now, his smile is dark and predatory, like a shark’s, and it makes me want to scratch his eyes out. “Stop smiling!”

“You’ve really changed. Where’s my sweet angel, and what have you done with her?” he mocks, a smirk playing on his lips.

“She grew up and realized angels don’t belong in hell,” I snap back, glaring at him. I push at his chest when he draws me closer, his arms caging me in.

“Enough!” he jerks me a bit and I look up at him, shocked and find his jaw ticking. “You might have slept well these past nights, but I sure as hell didn’t,” he asserts, his voice low and deep. “Even with the crisis in Dubai consuming me day and night, my thoughts kept drifting back to you. I’d lie awake, hard as a rock, imagining your body pressed against mine, your breath quickening with my every touch. I couldn’t escape the need, the hunger for you.”

I take in the dark shadow covering his jaw and search his tired but determined black eyes.

And just like that, the small spark inside me becomes a raging, burning need. I feel so ashamed that his words alone managed to make me this hot that my breasts feel swollen and sensitivebeneath the towel. So ashamed that even after everything, I crave to be with him.

I manage a shaky little laugh. “The act would’ve worked in the past, but it’s not going to work this time!”

That makes him angry because his soft lips twist in contempt. “Exactly. It worked before, and it will work now too. If you’d just quit the drama, I’d be inside you now.”

Trembling with anger, my hand flies up of its own volition but steel-hard fingers seize my wrist mid-air. The silence that follows seems to go on forever. The realization of what I was about to do makes my throat dry. Dark fury flares in his eyes, making me step back instinctively.

I massage my bruised wrist, my heartbeat thumping loudly in my ears. “I hate you.” When I begin backing away. He erases the gap between us and grabs my hips to jerk me closer. “Do you think I love you?” he scans my face with scorchingly angry eyes. “Do you think I enjoy wanting you this much? Do you think I’m proud to give in to my desire for you again and again?”

I stop breathing altogether. “Then why are you here? If you hate yourself for wanting me then why bother?”

“Because you owe me.”

I push his chest hard and back away. “I owe you nothing. Do you hear me? I owe you nothing at all!”

When he just steadily watches me, I turn away, ready to get the hell out of the pool area.

“You are so much more entertaining now than you were back then.”

How dare he? At this point I’m vibrating with fury. I don’t know whether to turn back and engage in yet another fight or just run.

“Run,” he says, making me look over my shoulder. “In the past, you were so docile. So compliant. But now you have turned into this wild creature and suddenly I am in the mood to hunt.”He smiles and a shiver runs down my spine. He slides his hands in his pocket. “So, run, River. Because this time, I don’t want your submission. I want your fight. And I promise I’ll give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want?” I try for sarcasm and fail.

“What you want is for me to chase you and take you so thoroughly you’ll beg me to lock us up in our bedroom for a week straight.”

His words wash over me, drenching me in fear and excitement, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I’ll give you a head start. You always complained about how big our mansion is. Pick a spot and hide. If I find you, you’ll welcome me in your body. Willingly.”

“And if I win?”

“I’ll take a cold shower.”

I bite my lip in contemplation. Is this a trick? Why is he suddenly giving me an out?

“Run, River. Or did you change your mind? Want me to take you right here?” He arches his eyebrows. When he takes a step toward me, I snap out of my stupor and run. Adrenaline floods my veins.

With a hand clutching the towel, I sprint down the grand hallway. The marble floors are cold beneath my bare feet, and the chill of the winter night seeps through the grand windows.

The mansion is eerily silent tonight. Not even Vicky in sight. Then I remember he always clears the staff upon his return from trips. Each second feels like an eternity, my heart hammering in my chest. My footsteps echo loudly as I dart toward the stairs. But before I can ascend, I hesitate. This is madness. Why the hell am I running?

Because he manipulated you into playing his game that’s why.

And now if I didn’t run… didn’t hide, he will… I shake my head frantically to stop the series of obscene images our lovemaking. As if my brain wasn’t torturing me enough, it replays Damian’s words from moments ago.

Do you think I love you? Do you think I enjoy wanting you this much? Do you think I’m proud to give in to my desire for you again and again?

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