YOUR SOUND WHEN I'M INSIDE YOU

CHAPTER TWO:

The Mercedes glides to a stop inside a garage that looks like a luxury car showroom.

I count at least eight vehicles as the engine cuts off. A Lamborghini. Two Ferraris. An Aston Martin. Each one probably worth more than everything I've ever owned combined.

Jesus Christ. Who is this man?

The driver opens De León's door. He steps out with fluid grace, then turns back to me, extending a hand.

"Come."

I cross my arms and glare at him. "No."

His jaw tightens slightly, but his voice remains calm. "Elena..."

"You have no right to bring me here!" The words explode out of me. "Where even is this place?"

"This is my house." He says it like it's obvious. "One of many. And this is where you'll be staying from now on."

"Never." I spit the word at him. "You can't force me to..."

"Come down from the car." He interrupts me, voice still maddeningly calm.

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'll carry you out."

I lift my chin defiantly. "You won't do that."

He's already reaching for me, hands moving to scoop me up.

"Okay! Okay!" I scramble backward. "I'll come down."

I climb out on my own, deliberately avoiding his offered hand, and roll my eyes hard enough that it probably looks like I'm having a seizure.

The second my feet hit the ground, I understand exactly how screwed I am.

The house, no, the fortress is massive. High concrete walls topped with security cameras.

Armed men in tactical gear stationed at intervals. The main building itself is modern and sprawling, all glass and steel and wealth.

This man isn't just powerful. He's untouchable.

And that means escaping is going to be nearly impossible.

The thought makes my chest tight with panic.

His hand settles lightly at the small of my back, guiding me toward the entrance.

I want to shove it off, but the touch sends heat racing through me. My traitorous wolf purrs at the contact.

What is wrong with me?

The front door opens before we reach it, of course it does, probably biometric security or some shit, and we step into a foyer that's bigger than my uncle's entire house.

Then he leads me into the living room and I forget to breathe.

It's enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking mountains in the distance. Furniture that's clearly custom-made, all clean lines and expensive leather. Art on the walls that might be originals. Everything is pristine, beautiful, cold.

Like him.

"Come," he says, heading toward a sweeping staircase. "Let me show you to your room."

"No." I plant my feet.

He pauses, turns back. Raises an eyebrow.

"I don't want to stay here." My voice cracks slightly. I hate that it does. "Please. Just... just take me back home."

He studies me for a long moment, then walks to a small bar in the corner. Pours himself vodka from a crystal decanter. Takes a slow sip, one hand sliding into his pocket.

Just watching me.

The silence stretches. I shift uncomfortably under that amber-tinged stare.

"Do you really want to risk going back to your uncle?" he finally asks, voice soft. Dangerous. "The one who gave you to us?"

"I have a life!" The words burst out. "I have friends. My...my boyfriend is probably worried sick. I have school to attend. You can't just bring me to this fucking house and expect me to abandon everything!"

The change is instantaneous.

His entire body goes rigid. The glass in his hand cracks...actually cracks, under the sudden pressure of his grip. His eyes flash full amber.

Then he moves.

One second he's across the room. The next he's in front of me.

Super speed. Oh god, he's an Alpha. A real Alpha.

"Do not push me, little one." His voice is barely human now, rough with his wolf. "I am not a kind man. And I certainly don't share what's mine."

"I'm not some commodity!" I shove at his chest, it's like shoving a brick wall. "I have a boyfriend, old man, so just leave me alo..."

I don't get to finish the sentence.

His hand wraps around my throat,.not squeezing, just holding, and he yanks me forward. His mouth crashes onto mine.

The kiss is rough. Demanding. Possessive. His other hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place.

I hear his men deliberately turn away, giving us privacy we absolutely do not have.

I try to shove him off. Can't. He catches both my wrists in one large hand, pinning them between us.

Bite him.

I sink my teeth into his lower lip.

He doesn't even flinch. Just keeps kissing me like I didn't do anything.

I bite harder and then I taste blood

Finally, he pulls back slightly.

The second he loosens his grip, I rear back and slap him as hard as I can.

The crack echoes through the massive room.

Every single person present gasps.

His head snaps to the side from the force. When he looks back at me, there's blood trickling from his split lip.

"You slapped me." He sounds almost surprised.

"Yes." I'm shaking, fear or adrenaline or both. "And I'll do it again if you come any closer."

For a heartbeat, nobody moves. Nobody breathes.

Then he smirks.

Actually smirks, wiping the blood from his mouth with his thumb.

"Pequeña loba," he murmurs, voice dropping to something dark and promising. "Let's see how loud you scream when I'm inside you."

"What..."

He grabs my wrist and starts dragging me toward the stairs.

"No! Let go!" I dig my heels in, but I might as well be trying to stop a freight train.

"Señor," one of his men starts nervously.

"Fuera. Todos." Out. Everyone.

They scatter.

"I said let go!" I punch his arm. His back. Anywhere I can reach.

He doesn't even acknowledge it. Just keeps walking.

When we reach the stairs, I throw all my weight backward, trying to break free.

In one smooth motion, he bends and tosses me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

"Put me down!" I'm screaming now, beating my fists against his back. "You can't do this! I'll...I'll call the police! I'll..."

"There is no police here, querida." He starts climbing the stairs, completely unbothered by my struggling. "There's only me. And you're mine."

"I'm not yours!" Another punch to his back. It's like hitting steel. "I don't even know you! You're just some old man who..."

His hand comes down on my ass. Hard.

I yelp, more from shock than pain.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble," he says calmly, still climbing. "But don't worry. I know exactly how to make good use of it."

"You bastard..."

He spanks me again.

"Keep talking, pequeña loba. Every word adds another hour to what I'm about to do to you."

"I hate you!" I'm hitting his back with both fists now, kicking my legs. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..."

"Bueno." Good. His hand slides possessively over my thigh. "Hate me all you want. You're still going to come apart on my tongue."

My face burns. "You're insane!"

"Sí." Yes. "About you."

We reach the top of the stairs. A long hallway stretches ahead, lined with doors.

He carries me down it, still completely unbothered by my fighting.

"Which room?" I gasp out between punches. "Which one so you can lock me up like the monster you are?"

He stops in front of a door at the very end of the hall.

"This one," he says.

Then adds, almost conversationally, "It's soundproof."

My stomach drops.

The door swings open. He steps inside.

And the last thing I see before he kicks it shut behind us is the knowing look one of his guards gives another down the hallway.

The lock clicks.

I'm trapped.

With him.

And the promise in his amber eyes says he has absolutely no intention of letting me leave this room until I understand exactly who I belong to.