Under My Name

RONAN BLACKWELL

She tilted her face towards me with that furious stare landing somewhere just shy of mine, and something vicious inside me tore loose. Rage flooded through me hot enough to split my skin, and no matter how slowly I dragged air into my lungs, I could still see Sebastian's arms around her.

I wanted to rip them from his body at the shoulders for daring to put his hands on what belonged to me. I had spent years clawing my way towards this marriage, swallowing every humiliation and feeding every grudge until Aurelia Marlowe finally stood beneath my roof wearing my name, and that bastard had touched her as though she were still free for any man who wished to reach for her.

Worse than his hands on her was her laughter. I hated the lightness of it, the richness that spoke of a life untouched by turmoil, and the way those useless eyes crinkled at the corners even though they couldn't see a fucking thing. There was an innocence to that sound, something beautiful and unspoiled, and now that she was in my hands, I wanted it gone. I wanted to wring every bit of softness from her until nothing remained of the girl who had just laughed so freely for another man.

"And why can't I do that? I do not need a reason or an order to laugh with a friend," she retorted, the authority in those words scraping against the last of my restraint.

I barely recognised the man standing there with his hand hard around her waist. Control had always belonged to me. No one dragged reactions from me unless I allowed it, yet this entitled little brat managed it with a few careless words, speaking as though Victor Marlowe still stood somewhere behind her, ready to step between us the moment his precious daughter pushed me too far.

My gaze moved slowly over her face, the slight slant of her green eyes, the soft snub of her nose and those bow-shaped lips, before travelling lower to the slim column of her throat. My hand would fit around it perfectly. I wanted to see the first flicker of panic when she finally realised that provoking me was not some harmless game she could win by refusing to bend, and that no father, family name or fortune could reach through these walls and pull her from my hands.

My fingers remained buried against the bare skin of her waist, pinning her to the wall. I had sunk them deep enough that faint marks would bloom by morning, and the thought sent a dark pulse of pleasure through me.

Tomorrow she would brush those delicate fingertips over the tender skin and remember exactly whose hands had left them there.

"I will only say this once, Aurelia." The warning rolled from my chest in a smoke-rough baritone as I caught her chin in my other hand.

She gasped at the sudden touch, and the sound sharpened when my fingers dug into her jaw.

"You will not speak or laugh with another man unless I permit you."

A shiver ran through her, but instead of the meek little nod I expected, she scoffed and tried to wrench her face from my grasp. She failed, her mouth flattening with fresh anger.

"I will do no such thing. Sebastian is a family friend, and I am a person, not your slave or something you own," she spat, her chest rising quickly beneath her dress while the pulse in her throat fluttered faster.

A slow smile pulled at my mouth. She could act tough all she liked. I liked that she still had some fight in her, because there would be something deeply satisfying about watching that stubborn pride crumble beneath everything I intended to put her through.

"You are my property whether you accept it or not, and I will not tolerate you ignoring my rules." My fingers pressed harder into her jaw as I leaned closer, until barely any distance remained between us. Her soft pink lips were right there, close enough that I could have silenced that bratty mouth another way, but I denied myself the impulse. "Fight as much as you want. I will only enjoy making your life more miserable, doll."

The word suited her far too well. A doll was soft and breakable, something beautiful enough to dress in expensive things and display for everyone to admire while its owner alone knew how easily it could be damaged. Her breath caught at the name and brushed against my lips, but the firm line of her mouth remained.

I released her jaw only to close my hand around her throat, just enough pressure to make the threat unmistakable without stealing her breath. Both her hands flew to my wrist, nails biting into my skin, yet she neither screamed nor clawed me away. She stood trapped between my body and the wall, trembling despite the effort she made to hold still, those green eyes wide and directionless.

"Feel that?" The words left me in a slow, bass-heavy drawl, almost pleasant enough to make what followed uglier. "That is ownership. Every breath you take in this room, in my house and under my name belongs to me now. Laugh for another man again, and I will make sure the next sound that leaves your mouth is a sob."

I added the slightest pressure, and a small involuntary sound slipped between her parted lips. Her grip on my wrist weakened, her shoulders drawing back against the wall while the pulse beneath my thumb raced wildly enough for me to count every beat.

I bent until my mouth brushed the shell of her ear and spoke with the same easy calm I might have used over dinner.

"You think your father can still protect you? That friends and soft words will keep you safe from me? You're in my house now, doll, and there is no one coming to save you or stop me from stripping away every last piece of that innocence until the girl who walked in here is gone and all that remains is someone quiet, obedient and completely mine."

My free hand slid to the open back of her dress, fingers spreading over the bare skin along her spine as I pressed her more firmly against the wall. I wanted her to understand exactly what kind of man she had married. I was neither a gentleman nor a saviour, but a man who had spent years waiting for this and planned to collect every debt those years had left behind.

"Fight me," I murmured beside her ear. "Push me away, argue with me, cry if you want. It will only make the day you finally stop fighting sweeter."

I kept her there a little longer, until the hands around my wrist no longer carried the force they had when she first challenged me. Only then did I release her throat and step back, watching her sag against the wall and bring one trembling hand to her neck, her fingertips moving carefully over the skin where mine had been.

"We're leaving," I said once she had steadied herself. "And if you so much as smile at another man on the way out, I will bring you straight back into this room and show you exactly how little your opinions matter to me."

I unlocked the door, and the click cut through the quiet before I turned back and held out my hand.

"Now come, doll."