Page 52 of His Darkest Obsession

But what disturbs me is the knowledge that my heart isn’t racing from fear.

"When you beg, I don’t want tohearit." His voice drops lower. "I want tofeelthe need in your voice."

I swallow.Me too.

"Because I won’t be satisfied with fucking you in that sweet dripping cunt I tasted earlier."

“I want to fuck you.” His hand pulls away for a second before he jams a thick finger into the back of my head like a bullet. "Here."

I gasp and yelp at the sudden contact, and as rush of heat gushes through me.

The crude words shouldn't affect me, but they do. My underwear starts growing damper and I hope to God that he doesn’t notice, even if I’m sure he’s more than aware.

"I’ll never beg," I spit out.

His smile is predatory. "We'll see."

In one fluid motion, he pulls me up from the table. His foot hooks the nearby chair, swings it behind him, and he sits down, dragging me into his lap as he does so.

Hard wet heat pulses between us. And the first drop of apprehension starts snaking its way into my veins when I realize that there’s only a few thin pieces of fabric between me and his cock.

And even without seeing it, I know he’s fucking massive.

The knife remains in our joined hands as he takes my other hand in his to grab the fork.

"But now," he says. "You eat."

With surprising tenderness, he cuts a piece of my steak and brings it to my lips. I hesitate, then part my lips as he feeds me.

"Never forget that we are married for a purpose first and foremost,printsessa." He cuts another piece. "And our first test is in two weeks."

I chew slowly. "What’s in two weeks?"

"Mayor Bennet's fundraising gala." The smile reaches his voice as it rumbles against my back. "Where I intend to find outwhyhe wanted you dead so badly that he reached out to every killer in New York to make it happen. Unless you want to tell me now and save both of us some time."

My body goes rigid and I twist my head to look at him, searching his face for what he might know already. But his eyes betray nothing, and I debate whether I can trust him with my secret.

"We're married now,printsessa." He brings another piece of steak into my mouth. "Your secrets are mine. Your burdens too."

“You don’t know anything about my secrets or burdens,” I reply through a mouthful of steak. “And you don’t get to have them.”

“I know enough.” He cuts another piece. “I know that you were a student at Columbia two years ago. I know that despite having two bedrooms in your apartment, you still choose to share the same bedroom with your sister while the other one stays empty with a layer of dust so thick you can choke on it from walkingin. Everything in that space tells me that your parents didn’t just walk out on the two of you.”

I draw my mouth into a line to stop him from feeding me another piece of steak, now suddenly nauseous at how easily he’s been able to peel back everything in the short time that he was in my home. He lowers the steak and his grip loosens slightly.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?”

I close my eyes, and force back the tears that threaten to leak from the corners. “Yes.”

"They’re dead because of Mayor Bennet, aren’t they?"

Yes, I think to myself. Because of Mayor Bennet.

But also because of me.

The weight of guilt crushes my chest as I sit there, trapped in Anatoly's lap, his arms strong and steady around me even though he’s no longer cutting up one piece of steak after another and feeding it to me.

He’s waiting for me.