Page 122 of Wedlocked

“No!” I protested, rearing back and pushing him away.

He retreated a few steps, thick black brows furrowing above equally black eyes. “All right, princess. I get it. I won’t touch you.” He held up his hands, the rings on his fingers snagging my attention. “Tell me what’s the worst thing right now.”

I said nothing, heart thundering as if I were taking part in a marathon. My eyes strayed to the door across the room. I didn’t know where I was going, butoutseemed good.

“What are you wearing?” Arsen’s voice brought my attention back.

I stared at him.

A dark look crossed his face. The bottom of my stomach fell out.

“Matthew. What are you wearing?”

“Pajamas.”

“Those aren’t mine.”

“So?”

“So when’s the last time you wore clothes that aren’t mine?”

My jaw slid forward, then back. I averted my gaze.

“Why are you wearing clothes that aren’t mine?” he pressed.

I stepped out of the doorway, farther into the bedroom.

“Matthew.” The hard tone made me falter. There was a forcefulness there that usually wasn’t. He was very unhappy with me.

Mad. Mad. Mad.

“I figured you didn’t want me to wear them anymore,” rushed out.

His reaction wasn’t verbal but physical, and even though I avoided looking at him, I still felt it. The way he reared back. Theway he stiffened and drew to his entire six-three height. “Why would you think that?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Mathew Miller, you answer me right now.” His tone was dark. Dangerous. But all I could think about was how he didn’t use my last name.

“Because you’re mad at me!” I shouted, the loudness battling back the ringing deep in my ears.

The outburst was a surprise. Usually, when I needed an outlet, it wasn’t yelling. But right now, it served its purpose, and that first little release of pressure was so good that I instantly wanted more.

“Because you had to buy new clothes because I took all of yours!” I continued yelling, a very small part of me worrying everyone else in the house would hear. “Because Kruger offered me his name and it’s a dealbreaker for you. I’m finally too much.”

The look on his face was indiscernible. It didn’t matter anyway because I had not one bit of ability to try and make out his reaction anyway.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, the tone of his voice also giving away nothing.

The urge to be loud was gone, and my shoulders slumped. “We’re alone now, Arsen. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

I expected some sort of agreement. Maybe for him to shout back.

I did not expect him to lunge, grab handfuls of my shirt, and drag me across the carpet until we shared the same air. His grip was so tight that the seams on the shirt strained against my back. The intensity of his glittering eyes robbed my breath the same way a fire consumed oxygen. If he was mad before, he was raging now, the hurricane building inside me somehow unleashing from him.

Riiiip.My shirt gave way to his aggression, ripping right down the middle and tearing along the neckline. Cold air slapped my newly bared skin, making me gasp, but his gaze was like a whip, silencing it.

He continued to tug, the veins in his forearms bulging as he ripped the shirt right off my torso and tossed it onto the floor. When it was gone, his eyes fired to my chest, and the look on his face made me glance down. Mottled purplish bruises dotted my pec, a cluster sort of like a rash but not. The force of my scratching caused bleeding beneath the skin.