Wake to Dream(36)

Although his eyes were still the color of dangerous arctic ice, his stare had become anything but cold.

When Alice hesitated, her dignity and modesty preventing her from unbuttoning the dress to pull it from her body, a questioning arch to Max’ dark brow broke through the impenetrable mask he’d worn.

Their eyes locked, the intensity of the give and take between them so lurid that Alice felt tingles across her skin, goosebumps of fear erupting over the surface of her entire body. She knew he’d rip the clothes away, or not bother with them at all. From what she’d already seen, he hadn’t needed to strip her sister down in order to take everything she had to give.

With nimble fingers, she unfastened the buttons down the back collar of her dress, the position pushing out her chest, her breasts tight across the cloth that was the only thing keeping her body from his view. Once the buttons were unclasped, she dropped her arms to her sides, matching his stare with a question that broke through the surface of her terror.

“What happens if I don’t get undressed?”

He angled his head in that way that was all his own, his lips betraying his thoughts when they curled at the corners. You already know the answer, he was saying, you already understand the pain I can inflict for any small spark of rebellion.

Daring to give him a smile, she said, “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” It was stupid to say, but she needed some relief from the suffocating silence, from the blanket of hatred and rage that sat heavy across her shoulders.

He didn’t react.

She hadn’t expected him to.

Another breath to steady herself, and she slipped the dress from her shoulders, allowing it to slide along her body until it puddled around her feet on the floor. He hadn’t provided her a bra when he’d given her the clothes to wear earlier that day, and despite the lacy underwear that held tight around her hips, she felt completely exposed to his roaming eyes, to the blatant lust that radiated from him at the sight of her breasts now bared to him.

She wasn’t sure if it was her fear or the chill in the air that caused her nipples to form tight, painful peaks.

A shudder ran over Max’ body. Slight, but still noticeable, it was the first outward sign beyond his mysterious gaze that gave away anything of what he was feeling.

Forcing her arms to her sides, she felt hot, salty tears burning at the rim of her eyes, her nakedness another facet of her submission because she hadn’t attempted to fight. What happened now was completely in his power. She wasn’t allowed to say no, wasn’t allowed to refuse this stranger whatever he decided to take from her.

Give and take.

Take and give.

It wasn’t a mutual agreement. And it wasn’t a reciprocal exchange.

She gave.

He took.

There was no other arrangement to be made.

Her body turned to pluck the nightgown from the bed, and with her eyes averted, she felt the heat of his body wash against her back before a large hand fell on her shoulder. No sooner had she gripped her hand over the soft, white cloth than it was ripped from her grasp, tossed to the ground to lie in a puddle on the floor.

The tears that burned her eyes finally slipped down her cheeks and she craned her neck to look up at him, her soul seared and tattooed with dread by the intensity of his stare.

A slight shake of his head was all he gave her before her body was shoved down against the mattress, her weight sinking down heavily into the soft luxury of the blankets, while Max stood at the foot of the bed.

This was it, then. The moment she knew would come. The moment he’d prove his supreme dominance over the woman he’d taken as his.

“Until death, Alice.”

Three words spoken on a gritty, deep voice. Three words that she understood their meaning, but was confused as to why they were said.

We're married, you and I. You are now my wife…

He’d told her that in the beginning, but the words hadn’t registered until just then. What type of insanity ran through this man’s mind that he believed he could claim such a commitment without bothering to ask for her acceptance in return?

Until death…

She didn’t know whether he was promising her that release, or whether he was promising her he’d never let her go. And as her body trembled with bitter cold against the seething, burning hatred she felt, she stared at him, her heart empty, her soul betrayed.

Seconds ticked past, tension building between them until Alice wanted to scream, Just do it, you bastard!

But Max wouldn’t be hurried, wouldn’t be denied and wouldn’t be forced. He would take his time. Take his fill. Take whatever he deemed worth taking.

His eyes were locked to her body, his stare a palpable burn against her skin. Out of instinct and dignity, she pulled her arms around herself to hide her nudity, but a simple and subtle shake of Max’ head stopped her before she could cover herself completely. He didn’t need to speak to lay down the laws that governed her. The set of his eyes, a small movement of his head, the rigid posture of his shoulders and strong arms: those were the clues that told her to behave.

The strong and silent type had never been so demeaning.

She was as easy for him to control as any person would be, the fight she’d always trusted inside her destroyed by one constant threat that hovered above them all: hurting those she loved as punishment for her wrongdoing.

The English monarchs had it right, it seemed, because it was the only threat that cowed her so thoroughly.