Bound by Contract, Owned by Hate

She Came For Me In Public

chapter 10

(Xander's POV)

The Met steps are a battlefield of flashing cameras and hungry eyes, but all I see is her.

Sophia stands beside me in that backless crimson gown, looking like sin dipped in blood. The fabric clings to her ass like it was poured on and I know from the ride over, she’s wearing nothing underneath. My mark is still on her neck, barely hidden. My c*m is probably still leaking down her thighs from when I bent her over the bathroom counter right before we left.

Mine.

I slide my hand lower on her waist, fingers splaying possessively over the curve of her hip as the cameras go wild.

“Mr. Voss! Mrs. Voss! First public appearance as newlyweds!”

Sophia tenses under my touch but turns on the smile we practiced. It’s dazzling. Fake as hell. And it makes my c**k twitch anyway.

I lean down, brushing my lips against her temple like the doting husband I’m pretending to be. “You’re dripping for me already, aren’t you?” I whisper. “I can smell how wet you are.”

Her smile doesn’t waver, but her nails dig into my arm through my tux sleeve. “Keep talking and I’ll ‘accidentally’ knee you in front of every photographer in New York.”

I chuckle darkly and kiss her cheek for the cameras. “Try it. I’ll f**k you in the coatroom and make you walk back out with my c*m running down your legs.”

The possessiveness roaring through my veins is new. Violent. I’ve had women. Plenty of them. None ever made me feel like this, like I’d burn the world down if another man so much as breathed near her.

We move inside the grand hall. Crystal chandeliers, old money, and sharks in designer gowns. Heads turn. Whispers follow us like smoke.

I keep her glued to my side, my hand never leaving her bare back. Her skin is warm silk under my palm. Every time she shifts, I slide my thumb along her spine, reminding her who she belongs to now.

Sophia stiffens. I feel her pulse spike under my fingers.

Before she can speak, I pull her tighter against me, my hand boldly sliding down to rest just above her ass.

Sophia looks up at me, surprise flashing in her hazel eyes for half a second before she masks it.

I don’t care who’s watching anymore. I turn Sophia in my arms and kiss her deep, filthy, claiming. My tongue strokes hers right there in the middle of the gala while cameras flash around us. She kisses me back like she hates me for it. Perfect.

When I pull away, her lips are swollen again. Good.

“Get me a drink,” I tell her softly. “And don’t wander far.”

She narrows her eyes but plays the part, gliding toward the bar with that graceful, murderous stride. My gaze locks on the bare expanse of her back, the way the dress dips dangerously low, teasing everyone with what’s mine.

A businessman I vaguely recognize, steps into her path at the bar. He smiles. Leans in too close. Says something that makes her laugh politely.

My blood turns to lava.

I cross the room in seconds, sliding behind her and wrapping one arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. My other hand rests on the bar, caging her.

“Problem here?” I ask the man, voice ice.

He pales. “No, Mr. Voss. Just congratulating your beautiful wife.”

“She doesn’t need your congratulations.” I press my hardening c**k against her ass discreetly. “She has everything she needs right here.”

The man excuses himself fast.

Sophia elbows me lightly. “Jealous, Voss? I thought this was all fake.”

I nip her earlobe. “Nothing about you is fake to me anymore. That contract says one year. But this…” I slide my hand lower, dangerously close to slipping under the slit of her dress, “this is real. You’re real. And I don’t share what’s mine.”

Her breath hitches. “I’m not yours.”

“You are.” I turn her to face me, tilting her chin up. “You’ve been mine since you signed your name. Since you came screaming on my c**k last night. Since you were thirteen years old glaring at me across that goddamn courthouse.”

Something painful flickers in her eyes at the mention of the past. The tower. Her father. The lies I was fed.

I don’t care right now. I’ll deal with the guilt later.

I pull her into a shadowed alcove behind a massive floral arrangement. My hand slips through the slit of her dress and finds her bare, soaked p***y.

“Xander...” she gasps, grabbing my wrist.

“No one can see,” I growl, circling her c**t with two fingers. “But they’ll hear you if you don’t stay quiet.”

I sink two fingers inside her tight heat. She’s still swollen from last night. Wet. Greedy. She bites her lip hard to stop from moaning as I pump them slowly, curling them against that spot that makes her tremble.

“This is what you do to me,” I rasp against her throat. “One look across a room and I’m ready to f**k you in front of the entire city.”

Her walls clench around my fingers. She’s close already.

“Come for me, wife. Right here. While they all think we’re innocently chatting.”

She buries her face in my neck as her orgasm hits hard, silent, shaking. Her juices coat my fingers. I pull them out and suck them clean right in front of her, eyes locked on hers.

“Delicious,” I murmur. “Now fix your face. We still have three more hours of pretending to be in love.”

She looks wrecked. Lips parted, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed.

And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.