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“We’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, little one. And while you’re under my roof, you answer to me.”

I turn to face him because I refuse to let him see me as weak. I’d rather look him in the eye with a wet pussy than let him think I’m the kind of girl who backs down. “I’ve been following men’s rules my entire life, Rhett. I’m very good at it. I’m also very good at making men regret giving them to me.”

His mouth tips. “I don’t doubt that, little one. But you haven’t dealt with me before. And you’ll find that I always get what I want.”

Goddamnit. I don’t doubt that for a fucking second.

The car goes quiet after that. Boston traffic crawls past the windows, and I can feel every inch of space between his thigh and mine. My throat is still warm from his hand. I press my fingers against the skin where his thumb was.

I keep my eyes on the window, even though all I see is the face of the man beside me. I’m imagining his hands on my throat. His words, Ryker won’t mind, play on a loop in my head. My thighs are pressed together so tight they ache.

I’m marrying his son. His son is going to fuck me and give the Council their precious founding family heir. Not that I mind the children part, I’ve always wanted children. But an heir is the deal. That is why I’m in this car and why some man I’ve never met is going to own my body.

But it’s not his son that’s even in my thoughts. I don’t know what kind of man Ryker Bradley is. I don’t know if he’s gentle or rough. If he’ll kiss me before he fucks me or if he’ll save that for some woman he keeps on the side.

But I know what kind of man his father is, because I felt it wrapped around my throat before I knew his name. Rhett Bradley is the kind of man who takes what he wants and then dares you to say something about it.

And tonight, when I’m lying in whatever bed he puts me in, I’m going to slide my hand between my thighs and think about his fingers on my neck. The way he said those three words are going to keep me up all night.

Ryker won’t mind.

Chapter Two

Rhett

I check my fucking watch again. I told her dinner was at seven. I gave her time to settle in because she’s had a shit day, but when I tell someone to do something, they fucking do it. She’s been upstairs in the room I had prepared for her all day, and the staff is trying to keep our meal from getting cold. I refuse to start eating out of principle, because I’m not going to let this disrespect slide.

I pull out my phone and swipe through the camera feeds. I have them all over the house, including her room. I like to always know what is going on in my house.

She’s lying across her bed with her feet dangling and swinging off the side, staring at the ceiling. Being a fucking brat.

I’ve been thinking about her since the car. I don’t want to, but every time I close my eyes, I see that pretty mouth forming the word Daddy and feel her pulse hammering under my thumb. I shouldn’t have grabbed her throat. I know that. But she ran her mouth, and my hand moved before my brain caught up. Now I can’t stop thinking about the way her thighs pressed together when I let go. About how wet she’d be if I’d kept squeezing. If I’d cut off her air and fucked her little virgin pussy.

She’s my son’s future wife. Fuck. My cock doesn’t give a shit, because it’s been half-hard since I left her at her bedroom door and jacked off in my study.

When Harrison dropped off the radar, I saw the opportunity and moved fast. Bought up the bulk of his debt before the Council even scheduled their first meeting. By the time they summoned her this morning, it was the only solution that made sense. A founding family bride for Ryker who will give him children connected to the founders by blood. That kind of match takes the Bradley name from respected to untouchable. Our family will get a Council seat that’s been out of reach for generations. This was a one-time opportunity, and I positioned myself to fucking take it.

The children part is the only piece that doesn’t sit right with me, but I shut that thought down before it gets where it’s going. Kids in this house again. The noise, the mess, the small shoes by the door. This mansion has been quiet for a long time, and I had my reasons for keeping it that way. But that’s the deal. She has Ryker’s children. The Bradleys get their seat. Nothing else fucking matters.

Besides, it’s done now. If Ryker doesn’t produce an heir to the Ravens, they will take the girl and give her to another Raven to try his hand at fucking her. After they’ve punished or killed both Ryker and me. They can do what they want with me, but I won’t let anything happen to my son.

And now his brat of a future wife is under our protection. I draw a deep breath before I brace myself to rise from my chair and drag her ass down here, but then I hear movement outside the dining room and sit back in my seat.

She appears in the doorway wearing black leggings and a fitted top that clings to her tits and her waist and her hips. Her bleach-blonde hair is still damp from the shower, and her face is scrubbed clean. Without makeup she looks every bit of twenty-two. Young enough to be my daughter. Young enough that I should not be thinking about bending her over this table and seeing what she sounds like moaning with my dick in her ass.

Fuck.

“I believe I spoke clearly when I said seven.” I point to the chair to my right.

“I lost track of time.” She gives me a shrug and walks past the chair I indicated to sit at the one at the far end of the table.

She thinks she’s cute when she lies to me. I watched her check the clock on her phone ten minutes ago on the camera feed.

“You’re in the wrong seat. I want you here.”

She sits up straighter and places her hands in her lap. “This one seems fine to me.”

“Laine.” I don’t raise my voice. I never need to. “Sit the fuck down in the chair I pointed to.”