Which honestly felt unfair because I needed, like, a hundred years to process what had just occurred in that tub before the universe threw me into a whole new country with Connor freaking sex god striding off the yacht like some Mafia king while I stumbled after him looking like sin on legs.
“Sir, we’ve arrived in Spain,” the captain said, polite, professional, like this wasn’t the most dramatic trip of my entire existence. “You and your guests can explore the city for several hours before we set sail again for the next country.”
And just like that, it was official. Spain. We were actually here.
“Explore the city?” I repeated out loud, my voice going way higher than I intended because I was trying so hard not to sound excited and failing miserably. “Like… walk around? Actual Spain? With the buildings and the food and the flamenco dancers and the… I stopped talking.
“We’ll dock for a few hours,” he said calmly, nodding to the captain like this was all perfectly normal. “Dinner. A walk through the city if you want. Then back to the yacht before midnight.”
I blinked at him because he was so calm. Too calm. The man could watch the sun explode and probably just sip his drink like it was mildly inconvenient.
“Dinner,” I repeated slowly, because I needed to make sure I understood this plan correctly. “Like in an actual Spanish restaurant? With Spanish food? And Spanish waiters? And Spanish people? Because I just want to prepare myself emotionally for the culture shock before you throw me into something life changing again.”
Connor’s mouth curved in the faintest smirk, the kind that meant he was amused but not enough to actually laugh because laughing might ruin his whole mysterious, dangerous image.
“Yes, pumpkin,”.
“An actual Spanish restaurant.”
My heart was doing weird things in my chest, like it couldn’t decide whether to sprint or faint. I had just barely recovered from the bathtub disaster – okay, fine, not recovered at all because my whole body still felt like it was vibrating and now he was talking about dinner in Spain like we weren’t the most scandalous couple on this yacht.
I stood up so fast I almost tripped over the edge of the rug. “Okay. Great. Spain. Totally normal. Dinner. Exploring. This is fine. Everything is fine. I can handle this. I can absolutely handle being in Spain for the first time in my life with a man who literally made me call him Daddy before we even docked. Yep. No problem. This is perfectly fine.”
Connor’s eyes moved lazily over me like he was trying not to smirk again. “Go change,” he said simply, like that solved everything.
“Change?. Into what? Because unless you have a spare flamenco dress lying around, my options are kind of limited here.”
“I packed for you,” he said, like that wasn’t the most controlling thing I’d ever heard in my life.
“Wait what!”
**Lily**
“Wait what!” I spun around so fast my hair smacked me in the face because I could not believe what I just heard.
“You have a dress for me? How! How the hell do you even have a dress for me on this yacht, Connor? You..you fucking bastard. You planned this. You planned all of this. You actually sat there with your cold little Mafia brain and planned to fuck me and then take me to Spain like some kind of villain in a romance novel.”
Connor’s face did not move. Not even a twitch. Of course not. He was standing there like the entire universe was under control and I was just some girl losing her mind over the fact that he apparently packed outfits like we were going on a honeymoon instead of a trip where he had already ruined my entire nervous system.
“You think I would bring you here without clothes to wear?”
That tiny curve appeared at the corner of his mouth. Not a full smile. Just enough to make my stomach drop to the floor because it meant he was enjoying this.
“Yes, I planned to fuck you,” Connor said, his voice dropping even lower, like he was about to confess every sin running through his head and dare me to stop him.
“I knew I would fuck you. I just knew it the moment I saw you’step onto this yacht with that thick little body of yours, with those curves calling me like they were built for my hands. Fuck.”
He leaned closer, his mouth grazing my ear until my knees actually trembled because my entire nervous system had given up on dignity at this point.
“I made arrangements for each and every country we are going to, baby. So do not worry. Daddy’s got you.”
My mouth fell open. Like wide open. Like he had just confessed to a felony and my brain was too fried to call the cops because oh my God he was serious.
“You are insane,” I said, shaking my head so hard my wet hair slapped me in the face, but my voice was already breaking because my entire body was melting at the same time.
“You actually sat there before this trip and thought yeah, I will fuck her in Spain, then France, then God knows where else while she loses her entire mind in front of strangers. You are completely insane.”
His hand slid around my waist like it belonged there, like he had already claimed every inch of me and was just reminding me of the fact.
“Just let me tell you one thing,” he murmured, his mouth brushing my jaw, his tone so dark it went straight through me like smoke curling under a door.
“My wolf is telling me to fuck you in public, baby. Right there in the middle of the city if I want to. Fuck, we are so excited. Obsessed with you. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
I made this sound. Like half a gasp, half a squeak, because I could feel my entire soul threatening to leave my body if he kept talking like that.
“Connor,” I stammered, because my brain had officially packed its bags and left the yacht, “you cannot just say things like that. You cannot just casually announce that you want to fuck me in public like that is a normal tourist activity.”
He tilted my chin up again, like he knew I was two seconds from collapsing and he wanted to see every single second of it. “I can do whatever I want with you, pumpkin,” he said softly. “And take it because you love how it feels when I ruin you.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, because he was right and he knew he was right and that made it worse. “I hate you so much. You are ruining my entire life, Connor. Spain is never going to recover from this.”
He chuckled under his breath like my suffering was his personal entertainment. “Go put on the dress,” he said simply. “We have a city to conquer before I decide whether I want to fuck you in front of strangers tonight.”
I nearly choked on my own spit because he said it so casually, like he was talking about ordering dessert instead of destroying my whole moral compass in public.
“No,” I blurted out before my brain could stop me. “I am not going to put on that stupid dress just because you told me to. No. I am not gonna. You think you can just order me around like I am some kind of plaything you can dress up and ruin in every country we sail to? Absolutely not. I have self-respect. I have dignity. I am drawing a line right here on this deck.”
Connor’s eyes slid over me slowly, like he was memorizing my rebellion because it amused him. He did not even respond at first.
He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, calm as the ocean behind him, while I was one second away from combusting with how furious and turned on I was at the same time.
“You are not going to?” he repeated finally, his voice so low it curled through me like smoke.
“No, I am not,” I said, my voice pitching higher because apparently I thought volume could save me from this man.
“I am not just going to walk into Spain wearing some tiny little dress you picked out like I am your personal toy while strangers stare at me and know exactly what you did to me in that bathtub. I am not letting you do this to me, Connor. I have limits. Real limits.”
He took one step forward. Then another. His eyes never left mine, like I was about to be taught exactly how useless those limits were.
“Pumpkin,” he said softly, almost kindly, like he was breaking bad news to me, “you are going to wear that dress.”
My chest heaved because everything in me was shaking now. “No, I am not,” I said, my voice cracking right in the middle like my dignity was trying to abandon me before this got worse. “I am staying right here in my normal clothes like a normal person with boundaries.”
His mouth curved slowly, dangerously, like I had just handed him my throat and he was considering whether to bite.
“You want to talk about boundaries,” he murmured, stepping closer until his heat wrapped around me like a trap.
“You want to pretend you have control. That is adorable, baby. Really. It is cute watching you think you have a choice here.”
“Connor,” I whispered, except it came out more like I was begging him not to do whatever he was about to do because my pulse was already hammering in my throat.
He leaned down, his mouth right by my ear.
“You are going to put on that little dress,” he said slowly, “and you are going to sit at dinner looking like sin itself while every man in that restaurant tries not to stare at your pretty little legs.
“And you are going to let them look, pumpkin. You are going to let them wonder what it feels like to have you under them while I sit there making sure they all know the only one who gets to ruin you is me.”
My knees actually buckled. I grabbed the edge of the table because my body had officially betrayed me in front of my enemy.
“Because here is what is going to happen,” Connor kept going, his tone low, filthy, calm, like he was mapping out a crime scene. “I am going to make you sit through dinner dripping for me.
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