"Mrs. Howel," Evan says, claiming her as his.
He buries his head in her neck and inhales deeply. Her familiar fragrance fills his nose. It overpowers his senses, exciting and arousing him.
He pulls away and looks at her anxious expression.
"It's late. And I'm suddenly less interested in knowing what it is," he says.
He slides his hand underneath her skirt and up her thigh. Suddenly and swiftly he rips the delicate fabric of her underwear and pulls the torn cloth away from her body.
"You filthy beast!"
Avery gathers her strength, bracing herself against the door. She pushes and pushes and manages to create a few inches of space between their bodies. Before she can make another move, he slams her back into the door. He presses his body against hers even more firmly, and she feels something hot and hard pushing against her leg.
"You're a sick man!" she shouts.
Evan places his hand on the back of her neck and forces her head upwards. She stares at him with wide eyes as he leans down to kiss her. He kisses her deeply and forcefully, like a hungry predator. He moves his other hand to her chin, firmly holding her head in place, and deepens the kiss. He wraps her hair around his fingers and presses his leg between her thigh; his entire body is entangled with hers. He holds her so tightly, she can barely breathe.
He pulled away from the kiss and she squinted at him. He feels intoxicated by the kiss. His eyes are wild and his breathing is heavy, but she thinks she sees an expression of sorrow behind the savage passion.
"Close your eyes when I kiss you!" he commands.
She refuses and widens her eyes instead. He smiles then, making a sound halfway between a hum and a roar. She feels his chest vibrate against hers.
"Woman, you are very disobedient."
Avery hears the sound of a zipper sliding down.
"But this dress doesn't have a zipper," she thinks, "Where is it coming from?"
Sudden awareness flashes in her eyes—Evan's trousers! Without warning, Evan slams himself into her body. It's so painful that she bites down on his lip and tastes blood. Her hands clenched into fists and her delicate nails break against the palms of her hands.
Fortunately, he only thrusts once, and then to her surprise, he stops.
"Why does he stop," she wonders, "Doesn't he want to finish? Has he changed his mind?"
She grimaces through the pain.
"Oh, is there no lube?" she asks dryly, "Must be because you're such a terrible sexual partner. You can't even turn me on."
"There's no lube because of you!" Evan looks at Avery meaningfully and pulls his dick from her body, "You know, I think Leonie might have been better than you. At least she was wet and ready for me."
Avery fumes, "He is such a sick bastard!"
She wants to scream and curse and call him every horrible name she can think of. She feels the cold air on her body, and she realizes Evan has let go of her. He watches her like he's suddenly bored.
"I will wait for you to come to my bed tonight," he tells her, "If you're not there and ready for me by 3 AM, I can't guarantee your nanny's safety."
He bends down and picks up her torn, black lace underwear. He stuffs the fabric into his pocket and walks toward the door.
Give me my underwear!" she screams.
She can't believe it. He's putting her underwear in his pocket like some kind of sick pervert!
Evan ignores her and walks out of the club and into the night.
"Hey! Stop!"
She chases after him, but she can't keep up with his long strides. Evan continues to ignore her. He climbs into his car and starts the engine. The car races away and disappears into the night.
Avery stomps her feet and kicks angrily at the club door, imagining she's kicking Evan in the crotch. The kick does little to improve her mood, and she kicks it again and again until she feels calmer.
"Evan Howel, just you wait!" she screams into the night.
Passers-by give her strange looks and she realizes she looks crazy. She looks around the club's parking lot and sees one of Evan's cars.
"At least he hasn't left me stranded," she thinks.
She checks her watch and sighs. It's already 2:40 AM, and Evan has ordered her to be in his bed by 3:00 AM. He used to bully her effortlessly because she was weak and timid and too afraid to stand up for herself. Now she's made it harder for him; he had to do some work to invent this threat against her nanny.
"Damn man!" she curses.
She takes a deep breath and tries to suppress her anger. She needs to think rationally. Finally, she walks towards the car. Evan has left the doors unlocked and the key is waiting in the ignition. She gets in and begins to drive towards Howel's mansion.
She has no choice. She's closer to her nanny than her mother, and she loves the woman with her entire being. She has to admit that Evan has found her biggest weakness.
The grounds of the mansion are dark and a faint mist hovers ominously in the air. Avery parks the car in the driveway. The sound of Evan's Tibetan mastiff's bark comes from afar. Quickly, the dog runs toward her, growling and snarling. Upon smelling Avery's familiar scent, it relaxes and trots away.
A maid hears the noise and quickly runs out to open the front door. She greets Avery respectfully, "Good evening, Mrs. Howel."
"Has my husband gone to bed yet?" Avery asks.
She hands the car key to the maid. The maid closes the large doors behind her as a gust of wind howls across the yard. Avery suddenly remembers that she's not wearing any underwear and she feels self-conscious and flushed. She can't help but tremble as she walks down the hallway.
"No, the young master is awake and waiting for you," the maid responds.
Avery stops abruptly and the maid almost runs into her.
"Still waiting for me to go to his bed?" Avery thinks disgustedly, "No, I refuse!"
Avery leans against the wall and gracefully removes her heels. Her feet ache, and she wants to walk through the house as quietly as possible.
"If my husband asks you where I am, tell him that I have returned and gone to bed in my room," she instructs.
"But—" the maid objects.
"Don't follow me!"
Avery turns sharply and glares at the maid. For a moment, the maid doesn't know what to do. She wants to run away, but she's scared of displeasing Evan.
"But—" she tries again.
Avery cuts her off, "No one is allowed to enter my room at night, do you hear?"
Avery's voice is low and serious. The young maid has never heard her speak this way before.
"Yes, I understand mistress," the maid whispers.
The maid disappears and Avery practically runs down the hall. She's grateful for the pure wool carpet protecting her feet from the cold, hard marble floors. The thick wool also helps muffle her footsteps as she walks.
She slips into her room and locks the door behind her. She barely has time to wash her face and change into her pajamas before she falls into a deep, exhausted sleep.
When the morning dawns, Evan is pacing his room in a fury. Avery never came. She disobeyed his direct orders and left him waiting all night. He waited for her for hours, staring out the window and smoking cigars until the sun rose.
Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Avery's defiant eyes and her alluring body. He remembers the way she felt, crushed beneath him. The more he thinks about her, the more infuriated he becomes, and he feels his rage burning through his body.
He wants nothing more than to burst into her room and fuck her. He wants to make her cry out his name and prove that she belongs to him. For years, he restrained every sexual urge, living a life of abstinence. He thought no woman could ever tempt him, but in one night Avery changed everything. Now he feels dangerously out of control.
Evan's butler Robert enters the room, carrying a garment bag. Evan takes the bag and begins to dress in a custom, three-piece suit. Though the suit is fashionable and refined, it makes him look even more intimidating and dangerous. Evan attaches the gold cufflinks, Robert, hands him.
"Was the pregnancy announcement published?" he asks.
"Pu-published ?" Robert stutters.
Evan sees Robert's uncomfortable expression in the dressing room mirror. He feels himself getting angrier.
"Just say it!" he demands.