Page 13 of His Stolen Bride

The sight of arousal smeared into a cushion and being touched by Elliot pricked her pride into life.

She grabbed her tattered panties off the bed, climbed off then grabbed the cushion from his hand.

“You’re not worried about me hurting myself if I ever got a hold on your gun. You’re worried about me hurting you,” she hissed as she walked away, heading toward the bathroom.

Elliot yanked her back against him by her arm.

“Let me go,” she growled. She needed to get away from him. Her body still vibrated for his touch and the only way to cure that was to be as far away from him as possible.

“When I was nine years old my father was assassinated right in front of my eyes. He died in Parker’s arms. I can still remember the blood splatter on the walls, bits of skull hanging from the apron my mother had worn that day. But my uncle had a message to deliver to us.”

He spoke without emotion. His features stoic despite delivering such a heart-wrenching account of his childhood.

“I was the youngest, the weakest compared to my brothers, so the man who had taken out the hit on my father, his own brother, picked me up by my collar and dug the very same gun his henchman had used to kill my father into my head. He threatened to kill me.

“All I remember was my mother falling to her knees, pleading with Cristo to spare my life. My brothers were helpless, defenseless, worried if they made one wrong move, Cristo would blow my brains out the same way he paid to have done to my father. Cristo pointed a gun at me. I killed Cristo. No one points a gun at me, Princess and you’re the last person I want to hurt that way.”

He released her, dismissing her as if she were an inanimate object.

Alone behind the makeshift towel partition, Vivian tried to contain her screams of frustration. Her situation seemed to be getting worse and worse. The harder she tried to escape him the deeper into a dark abyss he pulled her.

Her brain threatening to explode, she took three calming breaths and decided to deal with the matters she had full control over at that moment, which was cleaning up. She removed the cushion covering and washed the part she had messed up but a simple wash wasn’t going to work for her body.

She was so wet, she still leaked juices onto her thighs. Every time she unintentionally clenched, or the redness on her ass from his spanking started to burn anew, she paid for it with the pulsing of her clit which ached to be touched.

Removing the T-shirt, she stepped into the shower again. This was the first time in her life she had taken two showers less than an hour apart. But then she hadn’t met someone like Elliot Knight either. And her damn panties were completely ruined. She didn’t know why but that was the thing that broke her and she angry-cried, though silently in the shower until she felt a headache coming on.

She couldn’t stay there hidden forever. She had to get back to Tobias. She had to save her cousin and her uncle.

She might have taken an inkling of comfort that Tobias would find her but after learning that she had been stolen by one of the Knight brothers changed everything. It was up to her now to go to Tobias Ariti, marry him and then…

Wearing the same T-shirt, with her bra and sans her panties, she slid out from behind the bath sheet. The instant she did, her gaze collided with Elliot’s bare, magnificently sculpted chest.

She swallowed awkwardly and had to blink not to stare. With his shirt already removed, he whipped his belt through the loops of his pants, unbuttoned them and then strode past her as he pulled down the zip.

Vivian had to physically shake herself to move. But when she turned around, Elliot had yanked the bath sheet off the glass cubicle wall. She spun back around so quickly, that her neck creaked. She didn’t think she could handle seeing him naked. Her body was pulsing. Her naked clit still begging her for relief in the form of his touch. Her folds still desperate to part for him as he slid his cock inside her.

Digging her nails into the palm of her hand she marched to the opposite end of his apartment and stiffly faced the wall. She would rather walk on poisoned spikes than take a peek at him in the shower.

Her surreptitious glance around the room proved he had taken his gun and stored it in the steel box in his room which surprise, surprise could only be opened by him. The door as well would only open under his instruction.

She was too high up to risk climbing out the window, but more so there wasn't a balcony onto which she could step. If she climbed out of one of his windows she would step into thin air and her crushed skull would be found on the ground the next day.

There wasn’t a phone either, not a visible landline. She could have used his phone to dial an emergency number because there was no way it wasn’t password protected. But she couldn’t involve the authorities. That would open a can of worms that would infest her plans and put them back on the hit list of the Russians. She had made a deal with them that she regretted daily, but she had needed their help to get her here.

She was on her own. She wouldn’t fail.

Folding her arms tightly around her middle, she drowned out the sounds of the shower. Of what his body looked like wet. She rejected the scent of his soap which smelled so differently when she used it.

She erased the warning he had delivered about what would happen to her if she pointed a gun at him and looked at the words he had used before that. Her heart broke thinking of him as being nine years old and seeing his father assassinated right in front of him. Suddenly she understood that when his uncle had grabbed him and threatened to blow his brains out, was the same moment Elliot Knight stopped being afraid.

A single tear dripped down her cheek. She was crying for a man who had perfected his violence into an art form because of the family he had been born into. Her story was not that different.

But she still had a chance to save her cousin from a similar fate and she was running out of time. The longer she remained unmarried to Tobias, the more time he had to figure things out for himself. She couldn’t risk that happening. She wouldn’t.

Refusing to move an inch even when he had turned off the shower, Vivian remained staring at the wall like an idiot.

Images of him emerging from the bathroom area with nothing but a towel around his waist poisoned her mind. She imagined him dropping the towel to reveal his cock. She imagined…