Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Caius’s nostrils flare. “I’ve seen everything plenty of times.” He turns his head to glower at Gareth. “He better have seen nothing.”
He’s seriously pissed off right now.
Like I cheated on him with his brother.
This. Isn’t. Real.
They’re still messing with me.
Right?
Gareth mutters something under his breath and stomps out of the bathroom. Caius grabs a white robe off a hook and stalks over to me.
“Up. Now.”
I shake my head again. “No.”
He may be good-looking, but he’s a monster who’s holding me prisoner. I won’t fall for this fake act of his. I don’t belong to him. He’s not my boyfriend.
Like a snake striking, he seizes my wrist and starts hauling me out of the tub. The chill of the air is no match to the embarrassment of him seeing me naked. I shriek and attempt to pull my arm from his grasp, but he has a death grip on it.
He twists my arm until I’m facing the mirror. With a grunt, he pins me against the counter with his hips. I can feel his thick cock, semi-erect, stabbing against me from behind.
Is this it?
Is this where I get raped?
Our eyes meet in the mirror. His are flaming with anger—an unusual emotion from the inhuman robot he usually is. With my free arm, I attempt to hide my bare, soapy breasts from his view. This only makes him grow harder behind me.
I fight against his hold, but he’s too strong. A terrified mewl crawls out of my throat, but I’m coiled too tight to give up now. If only I could get loose, I could run away from him. I don’t have to take this abuse.
My shoulder burns as he twists my arm. It’s then I realize he’s trying to put the robe on me. I relax slightly to test my theory and am grateful when I see it’s exactly what he’s doing.
“That’s it,” he grumbles. “Isn’t that difficult.”
I go limp against the counter, which works in my favor. He pulls his erection away from my ass crack and puts on the other sleeve of the robe. Then he tugs me upright. I notice his gaze go to my breasts briefly in the mirror before he roughly twists me around to face him.
“I don’t have time for all this shit,” he hisses, spittle hitting my forehead. “You’re a distraction I cannot afford.”
I’m curious as to what that means, but he doesn’t let me ponder on it. He jerks my robe closed around my body and then ties the belt of it around my middle. I wince when he makes it a little too tight.
“There.” He snatches my wrist again. “Let’s go.”
I stumble after him, tugging at his hold on me to no avail. “Where are we going?”
“Out of my brother’s ‘fuck room’ for one. You’ll find out the rest soon.”
So he was jealous.
Gareth brings women to have sex with in that room?
These Crowne men are a complex puzzle that I must solve.
My survival absolutely depends on it.
Romy
Caius doesn’t let go of my arm, but I do stop fighting. He’s striding with purpose, and since it’s toward the elevators, my curiosity is piqued. There’s still so much about this place I don’t know about.
Once inside the elevators, he rapidly puts in a code, or from the looks of it, a certain movement of his fingers that unlocks the digital keypad. From my vantage point, I can see there are ten numbers, a P, an R, and a B. Though I could be wrong, my best guess is penthouse, rooftop, and basement.
He hits the B, and we begin our descent.
Are we going back to the pool? To his father?
“Where are we going?” I demand, finally finding my voice. “Where are you taking me?”
I’m at a disadvantage since I’m in nothing but a robe.
“Chalet de la Nuit,” he answers in a cold tone.
“We’re going to France?”
He makes a snorting sound as he rakes his gaze over me. “No, little girl, we’re not going to France.”
A flash of anger bubbles through me. He’s such a prick. “Don’t call me little girl. I’m an adult woman.”
Another snort.
I give him my most witchy glare, but he’s unmoved. The elevator dings and opens once we’ve reached B.
He steps out, tugging me behind him. We turn to the left and go down a long hallway with drab gray stucco walls. When we reach the end, a solid mahogany door stands in our way. There’s another keypad like the one on the elevator. I pay careful attention to the motion of his finger. A half a circle from top to bottom. Then he drags his finger up to the top of the circle and repeats the movement.
Two half-moons?
What is it?
The door clicks and then he turns the knob to open it. We enter a well-lit, cavernous space that smells faintly of oil.