“It’s locked.”
I skidded to a halt and turned to face him. “Let me out of here.”
“No.”
“Roman, let me out of here.”
“No. You wanted to talk, so talk.”
I shook my head. He must have thought I was insane. There was no way I was going to try to have a reasonable conversation with him in this state. I stuck my chin up. “There’s no point in talking. My answer is still the same. No.”
He circled around the table, a predator stalking its prey. “Perhaps you don’t fully understand the consequences of saying no to me.”
I slid my right hand over the tops of the chairs to guide me as I backed quickly away from him. For a half second, I thought about using one of the massive silver candlesticks in the center of the table to break the Tudor-style casement windows that lined one side of the dining hall. Unfortunately, I knew the diamond-shaped wrought-iron grid would prevent my escape, even if I managed to lift and throw the heavy candlestick.
Out of breath from circling around the table trying to stay several steps ahead of him, I desperately pleaded, “Why do we have to marry? We’ve only been together a few months.”
I wasn’t watching where I was going and tripped backward over a displaced fold in the Persian carpet. I cried out as I helplessly grasped at air. I knew with dawning horror that the stone fireplace was directly behind me. If I hit my head on one of the gargoyles, it would be fatal.
A primal roar erupted from Roman as he lunged.
He grasped me around the waist and wrenched me into his arms a hairsbreadth before I would have contacted the sharp limestone and marble edge of one of the gargoyle wings. He drove his hands into my hair. “Are you hurt?”
I blinked several times, still stunned by what almost happened.
“Aurora, are you hurt?”
His fingers searched my scalp as he cupped the back of my skull.
My head tilted up to meet his terrified gaze. “No… I don’t think so.”
HIs jaw hardened as a small tic appeared in his upper cheek. He bared his teeth as he growled, “You stupid little fool.”
His lips crashed down onto mine. He tasted of fear and desperation. With his hand in my hair, he pulled me forward, crushing me in his embrace as his mouth moved over mine, stealing my air. Once more, I felt as if I were thrown into the middle of a tempest. His hands were everywhere at once, clawing at my clothes as his tongue dueled with mine.
He walked us back until my body slammed into the wall. Lifting my arm over my head, he interlaced his fingers in mine and pressed our palms together. His other hand tore at the buttons on my blouse. I could hear the plastic click and rattle as the buttons hit the stone floor and scattered around us. He moved his mouth over my jawline and down my neck, biting and licking my flesh.
“Give in to me, darling. Be my wife,” he groaned against my skin.
My heart splintered into a million pieces.
He released my hand and gripped me under my thighs, lifting me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his hips and he stepped closer, grinding his engorged cock against my core as he recaptured my lips.
My arms encircled his neck as I pulled him closer.
This was what I wanted, what I craved.
His fierce passion.
His domineering presence.
If only we could go back to this and forget all about talk of marriage. If only we could just live in this twisted, fucked-up, toxic moment.
When I didn’t respond, Roman pulled back. He wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed it high, just below my jaw, anchoring my head against the wall. “Answer me, Aurora.”
My vision blurred. “Please, don’t make me.”
His gaze narrowed. “Last chance, baby girl. Are you going to put on my ring?” He pushed the words past anger-thinned lips.