Page 51 of Wicked Pursuit

“Not yet.”

His audacity startles a laugh out of me. “Even if you could convince me that you wantme, not the Belmonte heir, my fathers would skin you alive before they let you touch me again.”

“Nyet.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The movement makes the towel shift as if it’s about to fall. “Your old men have gone soft, just like all the leaders of Carver City. They will snap and snarl, but they’ll do anything that makes their precious baby girl happy. And I do.”

“Bold of you to assume blackout rage is the same thing as happiness.”

He snorts. “You liked the thoughtful little shit Luke did. You liked playing the dangerous game with Wolf to the point that, if Wolf had been someone else, you would have been confessing your love by the end of the weekend.”

His words echo my thoughts uncomfortably and take them even further. I want to say he’s wrong, but I think I’ve lied enough at this point. And truth be told, it’s not even the lie that’s sticking in my throat.

It’s the fact I could be anyone.

“Not me,” I finally say. “The Belmonte heir.”

Understanding dawns in his pale eyes. “Sothat’sthe sticking point.”

“Hard for it not to be.” I poke at my eggs again before finally pushing the tray away. “You lied to me, and that’s fucked up, but you have a point about there being no innocent parties in this situation. Fine. I’ll agree with that. But you don’t wantme, Casimir. You’re just following orders.”

He barks out a sharp laugh. “Baby, the mental gymnastics you’re performing right now is fucking exhausting.”

“The point stands.” I might be able to get past most of the shit—which is fucked up to even contemplate, but I am who I am—except that. I’ll never settle for being chosen because of the role I’ll play, rather than the person I am. Not when the stakes have never been higher.

Casimir eyes the tray. “You didn’t eat enough.”

“If I wanted your opinion on my eating habits, I’d ask for it.”

He curses softly in Russian. “Fine. Let’s get this out.” He flips back the covers and snags my ankle. “I chose you, baby. You, Ruby Belmonte. How many heirs are there in Carver City? Five? Six? It took me all of two seconds to recognize the glint in your eyes. You’re just like me.” He starts to drag me down the bed toward him.

“I’m nothing like you.” I half-heartedly try to kick him, but he catches that ankle too and jerks me to the edge of the mattress, then easily steps between my thighs. I prop myself up on my elbows and glare. “I might like fucking you. I might have loved Luke. That doesn’t mean I’m some kind of kindred spirit.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He strokes his hands up to my knees and slides me until my ass is nearly hanging off the bed. “But the fact remains that youarelike me, baby. Violent and selfish and willing to use other people as your toys.”

I flinch. “That’s cruel.”

“That’s reality.” He squeezes my thighs, pressing them a little wider. “Last night, you were fantasizing about me killing those two while they fucked you. It made you come harder.”

I almost lie, but he’ll know if I do. “Fantasy is not reality. I’m glad you didn’t hurt them.”

Casimir cups my pussy, his palm rough and possessive. “One day you’ll be territory leader, Ruby. Violence is part of the role, and if your parents haven’t prepared you for that, it’s on them.”

They may have sheltered me to some degree, but I hid from the truth too. Not because I’m afraid of violence; it’s more that responsibility gives me hives. What a selfish little brat I’ve been. I can’t think with his hand on me, his fingers sliding through my folds. “What’s your point?”

“My point”—he spears me with two fingers, then fucks me slowly—“is that with me by your side, you’ll be safe. The pair of us will be unstoppable.”

Pleasure slows my thoughts, his words and touch seducing me. “You can’t just... fuck me into... submission,” I finally manage.

“No.” He grins suddenly, and it hits me in the chest like a freight train: that’sLuke’ssmile, rueful and a little mischievous. Casimir twists his wrist and curls his fingers against my G-spot. “But that won’t stop us from enjoying each attempt.”

I need him to stop touching me so I can think clearly. I need him to never stop touching me, to keep fucking me until I’m wrung out and empty. “This will never work.”

“Baby, it’s already working.” He tugs off his towel, and then his cock is there, splitting me in half, one agonizing inch at a time. He brackets my hips with his hands, holding me down as he fucks me in shallow strokes, each one a little deeper than the last. “You loved me once as Luke. You’ll love me better as I really am.”

“No.” But I don’t know what I’m protesting anymore. My heart is all twisted, and I don’t know which way is down anymore. Did I think I was in a free fall before? What a joke.

In desperation, I arch up and hook the back of his neck. He allows me to tug him down so I can take his mouth, and the moment our tongues slide against each other, it’s as if I’ve snapped a leash that I wasn’t even aware held him back.

He bears me back to the bed, his mouth harsh and demanding on me. Casimir isn’t going slow now. He’s pulling me to him, his hands on my neck, my spine, my ass, as he drives into me, as if he’s tattooing his ownership under my skin.

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