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ADRIAN

DAY TWO

S he slept differently whenever she was curled up in bed beside me.

She didn’t notice it but I did. I noticed everything.

From the way her breaths seemed slower. Softer.

To how her expression relaxed. Her lips more parted than pursed.

The effects of multiple orgasms increasing her prolactin levels and making it easier for her to sleep.

Sex was different for me, though. At least with Marisela, it always was. Couldn’t really remember what it was like before her.

But watching her gag on my cock? Pressing her up against that glass and fucking her? It heightened my awareness.

Sure, I was calm too. Enjoyed the serotonin and dopamine spikes. But I couldn’t close my eyes and sleep. I didn’t want to. Almost as if my subconscious knew this feeling was temporary. At least it had been. It wouldn’t be anymore.

It was time to keep a tight leash on my little lamb—whether the collar was around my neck or hers was dealer’s choice. Either way, it was there. Strangling one until the other decided it was much easier to breathe when you stopped tugging so damn hard.

I pushed up from the bed, careful not to disturb her as I closed myself inside the bathroom.

Splashing some cold water on my face to rinse away the dried blood collecting on my cheek.

Didn’t know if it was hers or mine anymore, just that it came from under her nails when she tried to claw at my eye.

I’d wear her marks with pride, though. Same as she would wear my ring when we were done here. It was only a matter of time before Marisela accepted that we belonged to each other. We always had, which was why she and Tate were doomed from the beginning.

Fate doesn’t care how much money you have. You can’t fight it. And Marisela and I were written in the stars since the first time I’d seen them blinking back at me after she came.

My glare dropped to where I’d had a part of her carved into my skin. Bold, black letters staring back at me in reverse. Little Lamb. So that every time she looked at me she was reminded that I gave her my name first and forever.

I wiped my face and tossed the damp washcloth into the laundry basket before turning around and heading down the stairs of my childhood home. A world I was never allowed to be a part of and now owned.

It wasn’t just ironic. It was vindicating. That didn’t mean I liked being here. This house—these walls—haunted me just as readily as the woman in the well. My future mother-in-law, now that I thought about it…

I should have burned it all to the ground, forced Marisela to come live with me at Briarwood. But I wasn’t looking to trap her. I didn’t want to trap her. I was conserving her energy. Containing her. Until she accepted she couldn’t fight fate either.

By the time I had breakfast set out on the table, I could hear Marisela’s bare feet padding down the hall. Tentative, like she was afraid of what she might find when she turned the corner. Or maybe she was still looking for a quick escape.

She was out of luck if she was. Bugs had all the exterior locks set on a timer. I couldn’t even leave if I wanted to. Good thing there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

“Morning, princess. Sleep well?” I hummed as I poured her a large cup of black coffee. Dark and bitter, just like my girl.

I preferred cream in mine… just like my girl.

“What’s all this?” Marisela waved a hand around the table. She’d been too disgruntled to sit down and enjoy a meal with me last night. But I considered today a fresh start. For both of us.

“That’s breakfast, lamb.” I grinned. “I’m assuming you have heard of it?”

“It’s very… domestic ,” she spit out the word as if it was painful to say.

“You should know I take my roles seriously by now.” I shrugged. “Doctor, teacher, husband… I don’t do anything in halves.”

“No, you don’t, do you… seeing as you are still one hundred percent delusional,” she muttered under her breath before dragging the dining chair forward and claiming a seat as far across the table as she could possibly get from me.

I set her usual sliced grapefruit in front of her, along with the sugar dish. Then turned on a heel and grabbed my own plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. Shifting everything over until I was seated next to her.

Her eyes flicked from the pile of bacon, to the piece of fruit. I would never deprive my girl. What I would do was show her that sometimes I knew what she wanted better than she did. And I would give it to her. All she had to do was sit back and let me.

She played with her spoon, watching me out of the corner of her eye as I plucked the crispiest piece of bacon from the top, twisting it between my fingers before lifting it to my face to give it a long sniff.

It wasn’t thick or greasy. I’d taken the time to thinly slice it and set it out to drip dry.

I opened my mouth, prepared to pop the entire thing inside, only to stop and offer it to her instead.

My hand outstretched and the bacon hovering just out of reach of her mouth.

Marisela leaned forward and wrapped her lips around my fingers. Taking my breakfast with her before leaning back in her seat with a satisfied smirk on her face. Like she’d accomplished something when all she’d done was eat out of my hand.

“I meant it when I said I take marriage seriously, lamb. Whatever’s mine is yours. Always.” I grinned, but she wasn’t anymore.