Chapter 15: Emperor of Wrath: Chapter 15

It’s light out the second time I wake up.

Alone.

I blink myself out of the haze of sleep. Feeling nobody at my back, I roll over, almost expecting him to be there. But it’s just me in the bed as the morning sunlight peeks through the shades and into Kenzo’s bedroom.

I close my eyes, sinking into the pillows again.

Holy. Hell.

Whatever last night was, it was…beyond intense. Beyond comprehension and anything I’ve ever even dared myself to fantasize about.

It was fucking good.

My head hurts a little; a lingering gift from the obscene amount of vodka I downed in twenty minutes flat last night. And I know I was still less than sober when what happened…happened.

But I have zero regrets.

Yes, Kenzo might be an arrogant, walking asshole with control issues. We might not even like each other very much. But if I’m going to be legitimately married to someone—especially someone with a flair for possessiveness who I’d guess is the last man on Earth to be okay with me “seeking it elsewhere”—than I suppose it’s pretty fucking great that we seem to have fantastic physical chemistry.

Silver lining to every cloud, and all that.

I sit up in bed, wincing as another throb of the hangover stabs into my temples. Then I tense up as I spread my legs a little gingerly.

Fuck, am I sore. Like…everywhere, but especially between my legs. I open them wider, holding the sheets away from my naked body to glance down at myself.

What the actual shit…

It looks like I went nine rounds in a cage match with a prize fighter. Or maybe a goddamn tiger.

There are claw marks on me, for fuck’s sake. Bruises cover my breasts, my hips, my ass and my thighs, and when I bring my hand up to the soreness ringing my neck, I feel more bruises there. I grit my teeth as I glance over my shoulder, making a face at the fucking bite mark there.

Okay, last night was crazy good. But I don’t know if I’ll survive another session like that with him again.

I consider that I don’t actually have any clothes as I swing my legs out of bed. There’s my wedding dress, but I don’t see it anywhere. Who knows what Kenzo did with it after he took it off me last night.

While I was sleeping.

Something wicked, dark and illicit sparks inside me as I let that sink in. The man stripped me naked while I was asleep.

He could have done anything.

Part of me wonders if he did, even though he said he didn’t.

…And an even more fucked-up part of me gets excited at the prospect that he might have.

You need fucking help, self.

I get out of bed and start to wrap the comforter around myself. Then I spot the pile of folded clothes on the end of the bed, which I’m guessing are for me: sweatpants and a hoodie. I can already tell just by looking at them that I’m going to be swimming in them.

Still, better than walking out there naked.

Nothing he hasn’t seen, but again, I’m not sure I’d survive if he decided to have a round two this morning.

As good as that honestly sounds…

I chase the thought away as I venture into Kenzo’s bathroom and turn on the shower. The water stings at first as it cascades over my bruised body, and forget facing the spray—my nipples say hell-to-the-fuck-no to that. But as the warm steam envelops me, the aches and soreness slowly melt a little.

Three aspirins and a quick towel-dry later, I’m slipping into the crazy oversized sweatpants and hoodie that I’m sure are his. On the plus side, the enormous hood acts as a giant baggy turtleneck, hiding the vicious bruises around my throat.

Although… Something tells me he’d like to see those. Like a beast likes to smell its scent on a trail. Or a conquering king likes to place his flag on the enemy’s palace.

The smell of sweet, merciful coffee hits me when I walk out of Kenzo’s bedroom. I start to walk toward it, but I suddenly jump as a tall, dark figure steps menacingly out of the doorway to what looks like a study of some kind.

Takeshi glares down at me, jutting out his chin at me.

“Good…morning?” I mumble, frowning up at him.

Kenzo’s brother doesn’t have the highest opinion of me. And I can’t imagine me slashing his tires when I thought they were Kenzo’s did much to improve that sentiment.

“Morning,” he grunts, his brow furrowing deeper. “I got an email earlier to schedule the delivery of a motorcycle I didn’t buy.”

I resist the urge to grin.

“Yeah?”

I mean, Takeshi might not like me, but my beef is with his brother, not him. And since Hana has turned out to be so freaking cool, and Takeshi is her twin…

Let’s just say that while we were in Montreal, before my phone died, I may have made a little purchase as a peace offering.

“Yeah,” Takeshi scowls. “A Kawasaki ZX10R.”

“Wow.” I nod thoughtfully. “That’s a pretty sweet ride.”

I didn’t just replace his tires.

I bought him a whole new bike. Go big or go home, right?

Takeshi eyes me, his muscled arms folded over his broad chest. “Your adoptive daddy foot the bill for that?”

“Did yours, for your last bike?”

“I pay my own way, witch,” he snaps coldly.

“Funny. So do I.”

His mouth twists. “Don’t try to buy loyalty from me.”

I sigh. “I wasn’t buying shit. It was an apology.” I lift a shoulder. “I shouldn’t have fucked with your bike. I was mad.”

“And?”

God, is nothing easy with any of the Mori brothers?

“And I’m sorry. Truly. It was shitty of me.”

Takeshi glares at me a moment longer. I nod at the phone in his hand.

“You see it’s coming with the new Akrapovič exhaust mount?”

Takeshi cocks a brow. For one second, his usual mask of violence and bloodlust slips a little, and I might have even caught a glimpse of something approaching “impressed.”

“You know bikes?”

I nod. “Yup.”

“Why, because you fucking steal them?”

“Yup.”

He smirks.

“I mean, partly.”

“What’s the other part?” Takeshi growls.

“That I don’t get caught when I steal them because I know how to ride, too.”

Takeshi’s lips curl up a little at the corners. “What were you mad about. At the hospital.”

I stay silent.

“My brother?”

I glance away and he chuckles. “Yeah, he’s good at that,” he smirks. Then he exhales. “Okay, it’s a pretty fucking sweet bike.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I wasn’t thanking you. Though, it would’ve been nice to have it delivered to Kyoto instead of here.”

“Oh, are you going back to Kyoto?”

Takeshi grins widely as his brows shoot up. “Shit. This is going to be good.”

“I’m fucking sorry!?” I snap coldly as I barge into the kitchen.

Kenzo looks up from where he’s sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee and scowls at me. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Kyoto?! I’m not moving to fucking Kyoto.”

He exhales slowly. “Well, I am, and you’re my wife. Soooo…”

“So go fuck yourself,” I hurl back. “I’m not going.”

“You can come or you can be brought. Which is to say, you can accompany me willingly or I can make you.”

“Like you made me last night?”

Okay, that’s a cheap shot. And a shitty thing to say when we were both so clearly into what transpired last night, including the use of force, and him pinning me down, and continuing even when I said no.

“Excuse me?” Kenzo growls, a warning note in his voice. I ignore it.

“I was blind drunk, and you knew it,” I snap. “The phrase ‘taken advantage of’ comes to mind, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Certainly not,” he snarls coldly, rising from his chair in a way that sends a bolt of lightning through my core. “And I do not take kindly to being accused of something like that.”

I swallow in embarrassment. Yeah, I’ve overstepped bigtime.

“Well—”

“Well nothing,” he spits, storming over to me and looming down into my face. “You were wide awake.”

“And you just helped yourself to my bed.”

“Technically”…he grabs my wrist…“it’s my bed, and married people tend to share them.”

I tug at my arm. “Let go of me.”

“No. Not until you admit that you came like a greedy little slut all over my cock last night. Several times.”

I look down, my face throbbing.

“Well?”

I shrug.

“I’m waiting.”

“Fine,” I mutter, blushing fiercely. “Fine. It was…good.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Okay, I⁠—”

“You will look at me when you’re talking to me, princess.”

I fume, my teeth grinding as I drag my gaze up to his. The minute I lock eyes with his gorgeous black ones, all the fiery sass in me snuffs out.

“Fine, okay,” I mumble.

“Fine, okay what.”

Oh my God, he’s going to make me say it to his face.

Asshole.

I draw in a breath, squaring my shoulders. “Fine, okay,” I breathe. “I came, okay?”

“Like?”

Kenzo just smiles, raising a brow.

“Any time, princess.”

“Like…like a…”

“Starts with a G, rhymes with needy little slut…”

I shoot him a withering glare.

“I came,” I mutter darkly. “Like a greedy little slut.”

His brow cocks expectantly, and I sigh.

“Several times.”

“Good girl.”

He lets go of my wrist and I yank it back, trying to squash down the tingling, needy feeling I get from being called that.

Kenzo turns and walks back to his coffee.

“You didn’t use a condom.”

He sips from his mug, not looking at me. “I did not.”

“Well?!”

“Well, what?”

I stare at him open-mouthed. “Well, pregnancy is a thing!” I snap. “And who the fuck knows what I could have caught from you!”

He glares at me. “Right back at you.”

I glare back. “I do not have any STDs. Ass.”

“Well, I don’t know that.”

“I do!” I blurt. “As for you, who knows where you’ve been sticking that thing.”

“‘That thing’ doesn’t like to be called that thing,” he frowns.

“I honestly couldn’t give less of a shit. And please don’t tell me you’ve named your dick.”

“I haven’t,” he mutters. “That includes ‘that thing’.”

I roll my eyes. “What I’m saying is, who the hell knows where you’ve been.”

“I do,” he hisses. “And it’s nowhere bad.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Kenzo snorts. “No, you know what? I think we should. How about you? Where have you been?”

I fix him with a withering look. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

“Trust me,” I mutter. “I don’t have any STDs. Okay?”

Kinda easy to be sure of that when you’ve only slept with one person ever, and tested clean after you managed to escape them.

Kenzo rolls his eyes. “What, are you actually trying to sell me on you being a thirty-three-year-old virgin?”

“Fuck off,” I mutter, turning away from him.

“Give me a list.”

I whirl back. “Excuse me?”

“A list.”

“Of?”

His face darkens. “All the men you’ve been with.”

My jaw drops as I stare at him with fury in my eyes.

“Are you even fucking for real right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking, princess?”

I spin to leave. Suddenly, I’m yanked backward and around as he grabs my arm.

“The fuck you are. Let’s not forget that there are two things going on here. You’re my wife to stop a war⁠—”

“I—”

“But you’ll be whatever else I want you to be,” he hisses quietly. “As your punishment.”

“For what?” I spit. “Having a freaking sex life before you?”

His jaw grinds. “No. For fucking drugging me and stealing from me.”

I shiver at the sheer malevolence in his eyes, leveled at mine.

“W-what does that entail?” I mumble.

Kenzo’s lips curl. I tremble as he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Whatever I want.”

I try and fail to ignore the needy throb that pulses in my core.

“So, what, you want to fuck me again? Is that what this is going to be?”

He chuckles quietly to himself, pulling away, shaking his head and fixing me with an amused look.

“So greedy and eager.”

My face flushes with heat. “That was meant as an insult.”

“It came off as desperate and needy, but okay.”

“Fuck. You,” I snap. “How about this: hard pass.”

“To?”

I smile smugly. “Sex. I’ll be your wife in public, but that’s it. Enjoy your blue balls because you’ll be getting nothing from⁠—”

He yanks me into him, spinning us and pinning the small of my back to the kitchen island behind me. My thighs squeeze tight as he looms over me and cups my jaw, lifting my face to his in this outrageously possessive, dominant way that…

Does things to me.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he growls quietly. “You’re going to say it again.”

I gulp. “Say what, exactly?”

His smile says it all. I shake my head.

“Not happening.”

“It is. Admit that you came like a greedy little slut all over my cock last night. Several times.”

I glare up at him. He smirks right back. The tension crackles between us until finally I can’t take the fierceness of his gaze any longer.

“Okay, fine,” I mumble. “Whatever. Yes, I orgasmed.”

“Once again, that was not my question.” My breath stutters as he leans down into me, his eyes slicing me in two. “Say it.”

My face flushes as something unignorable twists and pulls at my center.

“I…” My blush spreads and darkens. “I…came a lot last night,” I mumble.

“Like…?”

I try to look away, but his grip on my chin tightens, pulling my eyes right back to his.

“Like a greedy little slut,” I whisper hoarsely.

“Where.”

Oh my God, he can’t be serious.

“Where, princess?”

I wet my lips, my breath coming faster.

“All over your cock.”

Just saying it has my core melting and heat pooling between my thighs. Kenzo smirks, a supremely arrogant look of triumph on his face. But he doesn’t pull away. His hand doesn’t leave my chin as he holds it fast.

“Good girl.”

Sweet fucking hell.

I was wet before.

Now I’m soaked.

“I’ll bet this pretty little pussy is nice and fucking messy for me now, isn’t it.”

I’m already shaking; when I feel his other hand slide over my hip, my skin pebbles to goosebumps. His fingers deftly slip under the hem of my baggy hoodie, teasing across bare skin as he slowly circles to my front, dancing his fingertips over my stomach.

He leans down to my ear. My breath involuntarily sucks in as I feel his hand slip into the waistband of the sweatpants.

“Let’s. Find. Out.”

His warm palm presses to my skin as his big hand pushes down into the sweats. My entire body trembles, and I bite back a whimper as his touch moves lower and lower. Slowly, his thick finger rolls over my swollen clit and sinks between my lips.

My world blurs at the edges, and I moan as I cling to the counter behind me. My hips begin to move on their own, pushing forward as his finger runs up and down my lips in a teasing motion.

“What a fucking messy pussy.”

I groan, sucking in air through clenched teeth as he suddenly sinks a finger into me. It’s not the three from last night. And it’s nowhere near the size of his cock.

But it’s still so fucking good.

Kenzo curls his finger inside, stroking against my g-spot as I start to writhe between him and the counter. My breath turns halting and haggard, my core clenching, my eyes rolling back.

“You want me to fuck you again, princess?” Kenzo breathes into my ear.

His teeth come out to play, biting sharply on my earlobe before his mouth drops to my neck. I’m still so fucking sore there, but I don’t care. I crave the pain when he bites down, putting bruises on top of bruises as his finger strokes in and out of me.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to spread your legs and ram my thick cock deep into your pretty, pink pussy until you’re coming all over me like a greedy little slut. You want me to empty my fucking balls inside you again.”

I’m hanging onto the counter for dear life as my whole world begins to shatter. I can feel my walls gripping his finger tightly and my core clenching as the wave begins to crest over me.

“You want me to make this slutty little pussy come, my good girl?”

My whole face scrunches up, and my mouth falls open as I prepare to fall over the edge.

Abruptly, Kenzo’s finger slips out of me. He yanks his hand out of my sweats as my eyes fly open in confusion and protest.

What—!

Kenzo is smiling coldly at me, his eyes full of gloating smugness as he leans close to my ear again.

“Hard. Pass.”

I choke and sputter.

“Enjoy the blue balls, princess.”

Without another word, he turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me shaking and clinging to the counter, with a mortifying and now uncomfortable wetness dripping down my thighs.

Asshole.