Chapter 36. Hold Tighter, Juneberry

Chapter 36. Hold Tighter, Juneberry


“Hold tighter, Juneberry,” Zorak growled, slamming me against the door.
My legs wrapped around his waist. His huge hands gripped my ass, lifting me like I weighed nothing.
“Zorak—” I gasped, voice breaking as he shoved inside me, hard, deep. My back hit the wood. Bottles on the vanity rattled.
I moaned loud—too loud. The sound bounced through the walls.
“Shhh.” His palm clamped over my mouth. His dark eyes burned into mine. “You want them to hear?”
I nodded against his hand, my whole body trembling. “Yes,” I mumbled against his skin.
His grin was sharp, wicked. “Then scream, Juneberry. Let Dua hear every damn sound.”
He pulled his hand away. I screamed. Loud, raw, desperate. My nails dug into his shoulders as I bounced on him.
“Good girl,” he muttered, thrusting harder.
“Zorak!” My voice cracked. My legs shook. Heat rushed through me. I was gone, clinging, arching, moaning his name like it was the only word I knew.
I came hard, shuddering, the sound tearing out of me. He didn’t stop. He fucked me through it, relentless, punishing.
“More,” he ordered. “Give me more.”
My body obeyed. Another wave crashed, harder, sharper. I screamed again, the sound filling the room.
Zorak grunted, breath hot against my ear. His thrusts grew rougher, wilder. His body trembled under my hands.
“Zorak—pull out,” I gasped, panic flashing through me. “Don’t—please—”
His hand shot up, covering my mouth again. His hips slammed harder. His jaw was tight, eyes black.
“You’ll carry my child,” he growled, voice rough, raw. “You’re my wife. Mine.”
I tried to shake my head, muffled pleas under his hand. His thrusts didn’t slow. His body shuddered.
He groaned deep in his chest as he spilled inside me, hot, filling me until I whimpered against his hand.
When he finally pulled out, he dragged his fingers along me, forcing me to feel it. His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“You’ll carry me, Juneberry,” he said darkly. “Don’t ever fight me on that.”
My chest heaved. My face burned. “It’s just a contract marriage,” I whispered, voice weak.
His head tilted. His smile was cold. “Is it?” His fingers traced my jaw. “Are you sure?”
My body betrayed me—still trembling, still clinging. I hated him. I wanted him. I was falling.
Zorak stepped back, grabbing his shirt. I slid down the door, shaky, trying to breathe.
I reached for a dress, pulling it up my arms. He stopped me.
“No. Not that one.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
His eyes narrowed. He crossed the room, picked up a different dress—a bright one, soft fabric, shimmering against the light. He held it up against me, his gaze sharp.
“This,” he said. “Every eye will turn with hunger in this. And they’ll know you’re mine.”
“Zorak…” My voice was soft, unsure.
He stepped behind me, sliding the dress over my shoulders, smoothing it down my body himself. His fingers lingered at my waist, possessive.
“You’ll wear what I choose,” he murmured in my ear. “And when they look, they’ll see you branded.”
My throat went dry. Branded. He wasn’t talking about a dress.
I swallowed hard, staring at myself in the mirror. The dress was bright, clinging, alive against my skin. His hand rested heavy at my hip.
“Perfect,” he said. “My Juneberry.”
I zipped the dress up my side and turned to face him.
“This one,” I said, holding up a dark gown.
Zorak shook his head instantly, stepping forward. His big hand brushed the fabric away like it offended him. “No. Not that one.”
I raised my brows. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It hides you.” His eyes roamed me, sharp and possessive. He reached past me, grabbed a bright dress, silky and short. The color almost glowed against the dim light. “This one. Every man who looks at you will want to sin.”
“You want men staring at me?” I teased.
“I want men to stare,” he said flatly, lifting the dress to my chest, “and then to know you’re mine.”
I swallowed, heat curling in my stomach. His voice didn’t leave room for argument. He held the dress out. “Wear it.”
So I did. He helped, actually—sliding it down my body, straightening the straps on my shoulders with slow, deliberate touches, like he was branding me in silence.
When I turned to the mirror, even I had to admit—I looked dangerous.
“Perfect,” he muttered. “Now let’s go. They’re waiting.”
The courtyard buzzed when we stepped out. Cars lined up, engines humming. Vanya and Verlin were already tucked in the first one. Dua leaned against the second, smoking, her eyes flicking over us with some twisted mix of irritation and curiosity. The third car—ours—waited with the door open.
Zorak’s hand pressed against the small of my back as we walked, steady and heavy. But halfway to the car, my chest tightened. I remembered—the bracelet. My mother’s. My only excuse. My only way to buy time.
I stopped short. “Wait,” I whispered, pretending to fumble at my wrist.
Zorak frowned. “What?”
“My bracelet—it must’ve fallen off.” I pointed toward the path that led back to the worker quarters. “It’s important, Zorak. It’s all I have of her.”
“You’ll get another.” His jaw tightened.
“No. Not like this.” I forced panic into my voice, real enough to sting. “Please. Just five minutes. I need to look where I was this morning with Vanya.”
He studied me for a beat too long, suspicion flickering. Then he exhaled hard through his nose. “Be fast. I don’t like you running around alone.”
I nodded quickly and turned before he could change his mind. My heels clicked against the stones as I ran toward the quarters.
The small door creaked when I knocked. A woman opened it—thin, eyes lined with exhaustion. She stiffened when she saw me.
“You… again,” she said in broken English. “My husband say no speak to you.”
I held up both hands. “I’m not here for trouble. Please. Just listen.”
Her eyes darted over her shoulder, nervous.
“I only came to ask for help.” I reached into my hidden pocket, pulled out the folded bills I’d stashed. I pressed them into her rough hand. “Take this. For your kids. But I need something back. I need you to be my eyes. If that man shows up again—you tell me. Understand?”
Her fingers trembled around the money. She looked at me, then back at her children inside. Finally, she gave a small nod.
Relief loosened my chest. I lowered my voice. “One more thing. I need… something strong. A drug. Cocaine, meth, anything that can knock someone out. Just a little.”
Her face twisted, suspicious. “You… take drugs?”
I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “No. Not me. It’s for a friend. Please.”
She hesitated again, but then disappeared inside. When she came back, her hand was closed tight around a tiny packet. She shoved it into my palm. “Go. Now. Before my husband see you.”
“Thank you.” I slipped it deep into my dress, pressing it against my skin. This was my weapon. My chance.
I turned to leave, sliding the bracelet out of my bag to complete the lie. But when I stepped out into the open, I froze.
Zorak stood there.
Arms crossed. Eyes cold.
My heart jumped.
“I—uh—” I held up the bracelet weakly. “Found it.”
His stare didn’t move. “You were taking too long.”
I forced a smile. “I got it, see?”
He stepped closer, gaze cutting over me like a blade. “Next time… don’t run off. You don’t know what can happen.”
“Yes, boss,” I muttered, tucking the bracelet into my bag.
He didn’t smile. He just turned and guided me toward the car with that heavy hand on my back again, like a warning.
Inside the car, the air was thick. Zorak leaned close, his breath hot on my ear. He grabbed my hand, lifted it, and kissed the inside of my palm. Then his teeth grazed my skin.
“We need to see a jeweler,” he murmured. “A ring maker. I’ll put something on your hand so the everyone knows,,including my father.”
I forced a smile, even as the hidden packet pressed cold against my breast. “A ring sounds nice.”
He smirked. “Not nice. Permanent.”
I turned my face toward the window, watching the trees blur as the car sped forward. My fingers brushed against the hidden drug, my only shield.
Inside, my thoughts were razor sharp.
If I want to save my family… if I wanted to survive Arjona… I have to be smarter. Deadlier. Even than him.