Page 47 of Emperor of Havoc

I keep her pinned where she is as I slowly slide my fingers from her quivering cunt. I drag them wetly up her body, rubbing them over her tender, swollen nipples and then bringing my hand up her throat until my fingertips drag across her lips.

“Open,” I growl quietly.

She does.

Our eyes lock in the mirror as her lips part and I slide my wet fingers inside. Her eyes fly wide as I roll one of her nipples again, her tongue dancing over my fingers as she licks and sucks them clean, lost in the moment.

I lean into her ear, and she jolts when I bite down hard on the lobe.

“Good girl.”

It’s either the name, or the bite. But something shakes her from that floaty, post-orgasm bliss. Instantly, her face changes, her eyes narrowing on me. She pushes me back, and this time, I allow her to squirm free. She snatches the towel off the floor, her face burning as she turns away and hastily wraps it around herself.

She whirls on me, her eyes blazing, her lower lip trembling as she holds the towel against her still-shaking body.

“Get the fuck out,” she signs hurriedly.

“Your pillow talk needs some work, princess.”

Her lips purse.

“I never said you could touch me like that.”

I snort. “You never said Icouldn’t.”

“No, because you didn’t let me.”

I roll my eyes. “Ormaybe you were just too busy coming all over my fingers like a greedy little slut to even remember how much you hate me.”

Her throat works. Her bottom lip sucks between her teeth. Her hands move sharply, her gray eyes flinty.

“Get out. Get out and go to hell.”

I grin. “I’ll save you a seat, princess.”

13

KATARINA

The morningof my wedding is almost unnervingly quiet. The house feels different—no captains coming and going, no tense undercurrent of secrets.

Today, it feels as if the Ishida estate itself knows something is about to change.

I sit before the vanity in my room, Furrcules chasing dust particles in the sunlight coming in through the windows while I let Nina fuss with my hair. She’s good at braiding, pinning, smoothing. I’m not. My hands are too impatient. Nina, though, seems to find comfort in it.

“You’re quiet,” she says, glancing at me in the mirror.

I roll my eyes. She snickers. It’s one of our favorite dumb jokes.

But she’s…not wrong. Iamquiet right now—at least pensive. I glance away, my cheeks warming.

He’sbeen in my head. Not because today's the day I’m fucking marrying the psycho, the one who keeps barging into my world and past every boundary I have. Not because of what happenedtwo days ago in the bathroom, either: if we’re being honest, the fixation on my part startedmuchlonger ago than that.

It’s maddening. And yet, there’s something about him…

The way he looks at me, constantly calculating, always two moves ahead. Like he's trying to figure out—and easily succeeding—how to unravel me. Bind me to him.

Control me.

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