HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance) novel Chapter 7

CHAPTER 0007

Meadow’s POV:

Alaric’s words hit harder than any hangover ever could.

I blinked up at him, the panic in my chest escalating. “No, no. That’s not–We didn’t…”

I started to stutter, but the soft ding of the doorbell stopped me short.

“That must be room service,” he muttered, throwing me one last smirk before he strode toward the door, shutting it behind him.

Leaving me all alone in the room with the billion questions and wheels that were turning in my head.

I raised my left hand up, unable to control the tremors as I stared at the diamond ring so hard, like I could make it disappear with my gaze.

“That’s not possible…” I whispered to myself.

There was no way I was married. No way I had agreed to a marriage with this man, but as I shut my eyes tight, the memories from last night played repeatedly in my head.

They were only fragments, but were present nonetheless.

‘Marry me.‘

I groaned.

‘I can make them pay,‘ he’d said. ‘Just say the word.‘

“Oh no,” I whimpered, clutching the collar of Alaric’s shirt. I said yes.

I’d really said yes.

But that… that had to be illegal, right? I was inebriated. Not in the right state of mind.

Before I could get lost in my thoughts, the door opened and I raised my head to find Alaric leaning against the door post, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Those were some strong looking arms. Even I had to admit it.

Memories of those hands lifting me up, carrying me as I buried my head into his chest…

Oh my God.

I felt my cheeks start to heat up–if they weren’t already freaking hot before.

“Come, Meadow.” His voice was cold, deep.

Something in his tone had me moving even before my brain could catch up. I got to the door, holding my breath as I walked past him in his t–shirt.

It stopped halfway down to my knees, so I was covered, but the fire in his eyes had me fisting the edges of the shirt, like I was pinning it to my body.

I walked to the dining table, my eyes widening at the richest breakfast tray I had ever seen. Avocado toast, golden scrambled eggs, fluffy pancakes that had been stacked high with whipped cream and

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CHAPTER 0007

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berries, smoked salmon, tiny glass jars of honey and jam, and a pitcher of what seemed like freshly squeezed orange juice.

And beside the tray was a glass of water and a tiny plate containing two painkiller pills.

I spun around, letting out a gasp when I realized that Alaric had been right behind me. He towered over me, his eyes…

Oh God, his eyes.

I wasn’t able to see them clearly last night but now I could. They were ink–blue. The kind of blue you would mistake for black under the wrong lighting.

And right now, they were narrowed at me.

“I can’t eat this,” I said, catching myself before I did something crazy.

“Why not?” he asked, head tilted in curiosity.

and

It took a good ten seconds before I was able to work up a reply. “Well, first of all,” my voice trembled. “I’m not hungry.” The lie tasted like bile on my tongue.

“And second,” I said airily. “I may have your expensive–ass ring on my finger, but I don’t remember saying yes to you. I was drunk, and I… What are you doing?”

Alaric had sidestepped me, pulling out a chair directly in front of the food.

He tapped his hand twice on the seat. “Sit,” he said.

“You can’t be serious,” I scoffed.

L

“I’m dead serious, Meadow,” he stated plainly. “And like I said, you must eat something first before we have anything resembling a conversation.”

I swallowed, preparing a retort in my head, but when nothing came up, I just did as he said, sliding into the chair, while he walked over to the coffeemaker, his back to me as he poured some already brewed coffee into a cup.

I picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of egg.

Anything to distract me from staring blatantly at the tattoos that swirled up his arms, or the casual way he walked up to the table, pulling out the seat across from me.

He sat down, placing the mug on the table with a gentleness that made my eyelids flutter, and then his eyes met mine again.

I quickly looked away, clearing my throat as I took a bite of the eggs.

He didn’t say much. He didn’t say anything at all. Just sipped his black coffee slowly, watching me eat, like I was his responsibility.

Or property.

“So,” I muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “Do you just… keep spare diamond rings on you in case you randomly get married?”

His mouth twitched. “No. That one was custom–made.”

I paused. “What?”

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He raised his mug to his lips again, ignoring my question.

I narrowed my eyes but shoved a forkful of pancake into my mouth anyway, chewing slowly. I hated how good it tasted, but I couldn’t help but close my eyes in delight, an unintentional moan dropping from my lips.

I caught myself instantly, opening my eyes to look at Alaric. But he was already looking at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.

And then, his eyes dropped to my mouth.

And I graciously proceeded to choke. A few coughs burst from my throat as I fisted my chest.

Alaric was by my side in seconds.

He grabbed the pitcher, pouring me a glass of orange juice.

“Here,” he murmured, holding it out to me. Our hands grazed each other during the motion, and I felt him tense beside me.

I gulped down some of the orange juice, freezing when another memory flashed through my mind.

‘I can’t feel anyone’s touch, Meadow. But I felt yours.‘

Alaric had said those words to me last night, and I didn’t quite grasp what he’d meant.

And now, as I watched his jaw clench and his shoulder tense, I couldn’t help my curiosity.

“What did you mean when you said that?” I asked.

“Said what?” he muttered as he returned to his seat.

I shook my head, wondering if I sounded crazy. “That you can’t feel touch.”

“I’m surprised you remember that,” he said coolly, leaning back into his seat. “You don’t seem to remember much else from last night.”

My heart jumped. “I remember asking you to take my virginity.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead.

Why on earth did I say that?

Alaric’s expression didn’t change. “You did.”

“And… you didn’t.”

“You were drunk,” he said, voice rougher now. “I won’t take what isn’t given sober.”

I tilted my head. “I was also drunk when I accepted to marry you.‘

His mouth twitched. “That’s different.”

“How so?”

Alaric raised his eyes to meet mine. “Marriage is just paperwork, Meadow.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, darkening as his grip tightened around the mug.

“But you were already mine before I slipped the ring onto your finger.”