Page 71 of Muerte

"The man you saw across the street today while you were at the confection shop. Why were you staring at him?"

My heart skipped a beat, the memory of the familiar face from the resort flashing in my mind. How did he know about that? I remained silent, a sense of dread settling in my stomach. As he continued to scrutinize me with piercing eyes, I struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

Nicolette's warning echoed in my head, confounded by what he’d done to his previous wife. And that was only the first one. Where was the second?

I scrambled for words, not believing for a single second that I wouldn’t become the missing third if he felt I had wrong him somehow. "I was just curious why he was standing out there. I hadn’t noticed men around while we were window shopping. Not any that belong here, anyway," I explained, hastily adding, "Not that I was looking at anyone else. I wouldn’t."

Alexander's expression remained unreadable as he scrutinized me, calculating.

This was insanity.

He’d just divulged he had brutally murdered his wife because he didn’t like something about her, and now we were delving into what felt like an interrogation because I’d looked at another man. The shift was jarring, leaving me off balance and uncertain.

His low, sudden laugh was devoid of any genuine warmth and only heightened my unease. As he released my hair, his hands found their way to my thighs, sliding upwards beneath my dress with a deceptive gentleness. His touch sent a mix of alarm and involuntary responsiveness through me.

“You won’t betray me, Lola. You’re too good a girl to destroy us like that.”

“I’m not good, Alex,” I practically whispered, torn between agreeing with him and remaining somewhat genuine.

“You are to me.” He trailed his fingers over his name and then teased my center, running his digits over my silk underwear. "I'm not insecure, nor do I have any reason to be jealous, but the mere thought of you looking at someone else...someone looking at you…I can't handle it," he stated, his voice a low murmur as his fingers traced over his name again.

"It’s partially my fault, I suppose. I didn’t explain the boundaries beyond our home.” His hand moved higher until he was gripping my underwear, roughly tearing it off me. An involuntary whimper slipped through my lips as my dress bunched around my hips and only his slacks separated his cock from pressing fully against my pussy.

I could feel how hard he was—and there wasn’t any denying how wet he’d made me with his twisted way of speaking.

And, of course, he saw it.

His eyes briefly dipped between my legs before flitting back to mine, alight with something predatory, mingling with an unmistakable hint of pride. The depth of his stare was disconcerting, revealing a hunger that seemed to go beyond the physical.

“Boundaries?” I questioned, barely holding my voice steady.

“I’ve made it clear which men can and cannot speak to you. They know the consequences of defying that decree,” he explained calmly. “If you find yourself having to smile at anyone, especially someone not of our community, keep it brief. You’re beautiful, fucking stunning when you smile. It wouldn’t take much for someone to misinterpret that as an invitation.”

He cupped my pussy and dipped one finger inside me, and then another, slowly pumping in and out. “If someone asks for your name, you give them mine.” The finality in his voice left no room for argument. I grabbed his shoulders, biting into my lower lip to suppress a moan.

“Tell me you understand,” he murmured in my ear.

"I understand.”

"No. I don’t think you do. But you will," he replied quietly.

I wished he’d just yelled. I wasn’t used to someone being calm and collected, even when they were enraged. It didn’t help that his insight into my thoughts was almost enough to undo the last bit of my composure. He pulled his fingers out of me and grabbed my thighs, dragging me to the very edge of the table. Before I could draw another breath, I found myself turned around.

He bent me over, crushing my chest into the smooth wood. One hand slipped beneath my hair to grip the back of my neck, and the other began to undo his belt.

“Alex?”

A slight squeeze was his only reply. My stomach dipped at the faint sound of his zipper sliding down. The smooth head of his cock brushed against me a second later and a fresh burst of panic set in.

“No.” I pushed back but couldn’t move. He was far stronger than me, even hardly trying. I’d found that out the first time I’d woken up and he was already inside me.

“That’s only going to make it worse, Lola.” The hand he had around my neck slipped around so that the edge of his palm pressed against my mouth. He took a firm grip of my ass cheek and pulled it aside, placing the smooth head of his cock between them.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” I pleaded, trapped between him and the table.

“The sound of you begging only makes me want you more.” He nudged my legs farther apart with his knee. “I’m only claiming what’s mine.”

“Fuck you, Alex.”