Only two weeks ago, my reign had been unmatched. This girl had landed on my shores, noticed my ownership of everything she touched, and began the journey to bow at my feet.
She’d walked to me.
But now?
Now, I walked to her.
Each footfall of my expensive shoes, each whisper of my custom-tailored suit, I recognised that something horrid had happened.
She owned this moment.
She could’ve hidden until we’d flown away.
She could’ve run the moment we landed.
Each time I thought I’d figured her out, she did the opposite, and it fucked with my head.
Unlike our first meeting when she stepped elegantly toward me, her head proud on her regal neck, her willowy body bruised from other men, this time she stood unquakingly fearless. Her hair salt-dusted and crinkled, seaweed braided in one strand and a vine with three leaves wrapped around another. A jasmine blossom tangled with the fine chocolate spun around her face, spilling white flowers down her cheek.
Her stomach rose and fell with each breath—the only sign of her panic. The black bikini hid the intimate parts of her but revealed swatches of delicate muscle and breakable bone. No longer alabaster, she glowed with an unhealthy red from sunburn. Her nose already peeled a little and her eyes were no longer a smoky grey but a brilliant, blazing silver.
The crown she wore hadn’t slipped from her adventures on storm-whipped seas. If anything, it had grown from a small tiara to a diamond-encrusted headdress. Heavy and uniquely tied to the untapped well of strength she possessed.
It only made me snarl.
I wanted to snatch her, scar her, and ensure she never looked at me the way she was now—a blend of terror and tranquillity. Of acceptance and anxiety.
Her gaze never left mine as I stopped in front of her.
For the longest moment, nothing moved.
The world stopped, the sea stopped, the wind stopped.
We stopped.
Her.
Me.
Two paths opened up. A fork in my destiny that became as visible as any true journey. Signs even blazed with deliberate destinations.
Turn left and accept kindness and this girl could be my ever after. She was my equal in every way. Smaller and younger, fragile and fearless, I could taste the eventuality between us.
The relationship. The bond. The forever.
But turn right and choose ruthlessness and I would ruin any chance of happiness. I would remain who I’d become. Untouchable and all-powerful, sovereign and safe.
My heart pounded as Eleanor licked her lips to speak. To destroy me.
I had a single second to choose.
A fraction of a life to make the worst or best choice of my existence.
My hand lashed out, fisting in her hair.
To kiss her or to ruin her.
I don’t know.
My tongue longed to taste, my cock begged to take, every part of me shook to claim her.
It fucking terrified me.
Our mingling energy electrocuted me.
Our connection screwed up my heart.
So…I chose the right path. I turned my back on the left.
With a surge of strength, I added pressure where I held her hair, buckling her legs, sending her kneeling into the grass.
Her eyes widened, looking up as I loomed over her, keeping her pinned, ensuring she crumpled in servitude. “I knew you’d have to try at least once to know the boundaries of your cage.”
She gulped as I wrapped my fist tighter in her hair, bringing her up until she teetered on her knees. “I only did what any—”
“What any creature would do in captivity.” I nodded. “I know.”
“Then why are you angry?”
“Angry?” I kept tightening my fingers in her strands, tugging at her scalp. I wanted to break her apart. To shatter her into pieces so she was no longer a threat. “I’m not angry.”
She scoffed, wincing as I held her. “Your temper is a visible thing, Sully.”
“Don’t.” I shoved a finger in her face. “You lost all liberties to call me that.”
“Just like I’ve lost the liberty of my freedom?”
“Precisely.” Eyeing up her bikini, I untangled my hand from her hair and undid the bows on her hips. “You own nothing. Not even your right to decency.” My quick decision to strip her came from both a punishing and protective mindset. I scanned her body with desire and clinical inspection. No blood. No obvious injury. “Are you hurt?”
“Don’t—” She scrambled to keep the scrap of material together, but I swatted her hands away.
“Obey me.” Reaching between her legs, I yanked the lycra from her thighs and tossed it to the side.
She glowered but answered my previous question, even though I’d stripped her. “No, I’m not hurt.” Her pussy remained hidden, thanks to her kneeling position, but it didn’t stop my mouth from watering with excruciating need. “I’m thirsty and tired but not hurt.”
“What happened?”
“Why do you care?” Planting her hands over the V of her thighs, she hissed, “What are you going to do to me?”
I swallowed a wash of fury. Her well-being was my concern, and she’d thrown that in my face. She’d stolen a kayak, most likely capsized in the storm, then exposed herself to the elements. I was fully within my right to be pissed. “Your lesson will come soon enough.”