Unholy Intent (Unholy Union Duet Book 2) by Natasha Knight
Monsters don’t often look like monsters on the outside.
Forced to marry a man I should hate, I’m now bound to Damian.
I sometimes wonder what he sees when he looks at me. Deer in headlights, I guess.
What I see is clear.
A man with too much experience.
The day he took me he told me I belong to him. On our wedding night he proved I did. And I believe him when he says he’ll keep me safe because he won’t let anyone touch what’s his.
But I can’t forget what he is. Can’t forget the things he’s done.
And no matter what, I can’t let myself fall in love with him.
Excerpt Unholy Intent by Natasha Knight
“Welcome home, Brother.”
I look up at Damian. Beautiful Damian.
He shifts his gaze to mine.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave the locked doors alone?” he asks me, but his voice is strange. Echoing in this dusty, forgotten place.
The music starts again. That eerie sound of piano keys played slowly, so fitting to this place, this room, this house.
My head is spinning.
The other man, Damian’s brother, says something. His voice is similar to Damian’s but off. Like his face. Wrong.
Damian tucks hair behind my ear.
I push his hand away, push his arms away. I turn slowly. They’re both watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll do.
And the tune keeps playing, the chords slow. Sad.
I need to look at him.
Can they hear my heartbeat? Blood beats like a drum against my ears.
But I can’t run. I meet a monster at every turn. One standing behind me. The other holding me.
He warned me about the monsters. How many more hide in this house?
“Cristina,” Damian says.
I keep turning, my body still pressed to Damian’s.
I’ve taken shelter in my enemy’s arms.
He’s in my periphery now. The monster. The brother. Tall, like Damian. I see the coat. It’s wet. He was the man walking back toward the house. It wasn’t Damian at all. What is out there that they go to see in the dead of night?
When I come, I lose all thought, only feeling her from the inside. Only hearing her moans as I drill into her, pushing her flat onto her belly as my cock throbs deep inside her. Deeper than I’ve been yet, emptying inside her.
Spent, it takes minutes to roll onto my side. She turns her face to mine, our heads resting on the same pillow. The only sound in the room is that of our combined breathing, ragged and worn out.
We just look at each other for the longest time, her eyes soft, quietly watching. Does she see that monster, I wonder? Is that what she’s searching for? She won’t have to look hard.
It’s when I touch her cheek to push back the hair that’s matted to her face that everything changes. It’s then she shutters her eyes and locks me out. The instant is so marked, I feel it like a chill.
It was too much too fast. “I hurt you,” I say. Fuck. I should know better even if she asks for it. She doesn’t know any better. I’m the first man she’s been with.
“You will always hurt me,” she says as if reading my mind. “You should always hurt me.”
I get up on one elbow, a weight settling in my gut.
“Never make love to me or touch me like you did in the tub. Never be gentle.”
I look at her, confused as fuck.
She sits up and looks down at me.
“I see you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I don’t ever want to forget who you are. What you are. I don’t ever want to forget that you’re a liar and a monster. I want to see you with clear eyes, Damian Di Santo. And whatever feelings come up when you’re fucking me, know that mine will never change. I will always hate you.”