Who was I kidding? The Baz I’d met was never an ordinary man. I wouldn’t have been so interested if he had been.
“Do you want something to drink?” Sebastian asked as he shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, threw it on a sofa, and moved to the giant bar area that made up one wall of the room.
“No.” I stepped down into the very modern sunken living room with straight lines and dark colors.
I hadn’t paid attention to the room the last time I was here. I’d been too focused on the night ahead with Baz.
As I approached the windows overlooking the Berlin night sky, I heard the clinking of a bottle and the splash of liquid pouring into a glass.
After a few moments, Sebastian said, “Isa, I want this to work.”
I almost laughed. “It’s not like we can walk away if it doesn’t work.”
I couldn’t hide the bitterness in my tone. Bitterness not for the marriage, but for feeling like a fool by falling for him.
“It matters to me. I don’t want the type of marriage my parents had.”
I’d heard rumors that Jonas was as much a bastard to his wife as he’d been to my family. He’d only valued her for the inheritance he’d gained by marrying her.
“You should’ve thought of that before you pretended to be someone else.”
“I made a mistake. I should’ve stayed away or just told you from the beginning.”
“It doesn’t change what happened. You bought me. You own me. I’m your property.”
“You know I don’t believe in that shit.”
I whirled around. “Do I? As far as I’m concerned, we just met.”
“Dammit, Isa. I’m the same man.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know the rules. I give you my body in exchange for my family’s livelihood.”
“Is that really how you want it between us? A business arrangement?”
The last thing I wanted was to be in this situation, but Sebastian wasn’t my Baz. Baz was a figment of my imagination.
Lilly had been right. I’d been played.
“Yes.”
Sebastian clenched his jaw and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Fine. If that’s how you want it. I can be the bastard you believe me to be. Remember, I grew up with the number-one example.”
“I expect nothing less.”
He stalked toward me, and without thought I stepped backward. He was angry, but for some reason, I had no fear of him. In fact, I was aroused.
God, I was so messed up.
I was now married to one of the most dangerous men in Germany, a man who’d lied to me for months, a man who made me fall in love with a ghost, and here I was, turned on by his anger.
My back hit the window a second before he gripped my jaw in his hand.
I gasped, “Ba…Sebastian.”
He leaned in until I felt the heat of his breath and smelled the faint scent of the whiskey he’d sipped. “You’re mine now. As you said, I own you. And you want to know something?”
“What?” My voice came out breathy.
“I’m never letting you go.”
His mouth came down on mine, and instead of biting him like my mind said to do, I met his kiss with my own. He was like a drug, one I knew was dangerous but couldn’t resist.
He kept his grip on my face as he deepened the kiss, and my arms came around his shoulders. Our tongues dueled, rolling and sliding against each other. It was an angry, hungry meeting of mouths and lips.
His cock was thick and hard against my pelvis, causing a moan to escape my lips.
All of a sudden, he pulled back and broke the intense kiss, both of us breathless and panting. His eyes were near black and his face flushed.
Holding my gaze, he pulled his bowtie free, tucking it into the back pocket of his pants, and then unbuttoned his shirt, working the black stone buttons free until his breathtaking tattooed chest was exposed.
Shrugging off the white material, he threw it behind him to land on the couch.
He looked like a fallen angel, something forbidden but too tempting to resist.
My throat went dry and my breasts swelled, pushing my nipples into tight, hard buds aching for his touch. My clit throbbed, and my pussy flooded with arousal.
“Turn around and put your hand on the glass.” The tone of his voice was different, unlike anything I’d heard from him before.
It made me want to run and comply at the same time.
“Isa, now.”
My body moved of its own volition, turning and pressing my fingertips to the cool window.
“What are you going to do?”
“You’ll just have to find out.”
“No spanking. You no longer have the right.”
He fisted my hair and tugged it back, harder than he’d ever done before. “You can’t say no. Remember, you’re my property. I can do with you as I please.”
He kicked my legs apart, pushing the fabric of my gown impossibly tight around my legs.
“Fuck, that ass of yours is incredible.” Releasing my hair, he cupped my butt in a tight hold.
His almost painful hold conjured images of that night when he’d reddened my ass and the pleasure of it.
I shouldn’t be letting him do this. I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust him.
Slowly he slid his palms up, over my bottom, waist, and breasts, cupping them and then pinching the tips through the embroidered top of my wedding dress.
“I hope you’re not attached to this dress.”
Before I could comprehend what he was doing, he gripped the back where the zipper connected and tore the fabric in two.
I gasped and covered my breasts, pooling the material in front of me. Yes, I knew he’d seen every inch of me but this wasn’t the same as when we were last together.
“Drop your hands. You’ll never hide your body from me. I get to look at you whenever I want. Especially since you’re my property.” The emphasis he gave to the “property” part made it very clear he was pissed about how I’d referred to myself as that.
“What am I then?” I asked without dropping my
