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I couldn’t and wouldn’t give her those things, but I could treat her with the respect she deserved as my wife, as the woman I swore to protect. I’d respect her body, would honor her ‘no’ as if it were my own. That was all I could give her.

I returned to the washstand and picked up my shaving brush. Aria slipped past me and was almost out of the door when I gave her an answer: “No.”

She peered over her shoulder at me.

“When I claim your body, I want you writhing beneath me in pleasure, not fear.”

Aria’s eyes widened, lips parting, and then she quickly left.

I set the brush back down, grabbed the edge of the washstand and stared at my reflection. I had no trouble being a monster—it was in my nature and I enjoyed it—but the second I’d seen Aria, I’d made a vow to keep that part of myself away from her.

The women I’d fucked over the years had sought my closeness because they’d been looking for a thrill, had wanted to be dominated and to submit to someone dangerous. For them it had been a game, a sexual role play that got them wet, because those women didn’t understand that it wasn’t a role, not a fucking game. I was a monster. There wasn’t a role I played when I was with them, and it definitely wasn’t a role when I tortured and killed. Aria knew all those things. She knew the monster I harbored because she’d grown up in a world where men domineered women, where they owned them, where rape fantasies weren’t just that. They were horror stories spoken in hushed whispers among the married women. They were the shapeless fears of girls before their wedding night.

With those clueless women, I’d enjoyed being rough, treating them like shit, because they got a thrill out of it and because it was the only way I could at least be partly myself, but with Aria, I didn’t have to pretend I was someone else.

She knew what I was, and for some reason that made me want to be good to her, to show her that there was more than brutality. At least when she was concerned.CHAPTER 8I took a long time, showering and wanking like a goddamn teenage boy. With a gorgeous woman in my bed all night, I really shouldn’t be suffering from blue balls, and yet here I was. Slinging a towel around my waist, I stepped out of the bathroom.

Aria perched on the stool in front of her vanity, blond hair trailing down her back and using whatever women used to accentuate their eyes—not that Aria needed it. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw me. They trailed the length of me, fascination reflecting on her face. Stifling a groan at her innocent appraisal, I stalked toward the wardrobe and grabbed a few clothes. Knowing she was still watching, I let my towel fall to the ground. She sucked in a breath and my cock gave a fucking twitch, imagining how she was blushing. When I’d put on briefs and pants, I turned. As expected, Aria’s cheeks were flushed. She pretended to be busy inspecting her nails, but she wasn’t fooling me. She was too embarrassed to face me.

It was something new for me. I didn’t have experience with a girl like her. The women of my past had been straightforward with their demands and practiced in their advances. Aria wasn’t, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle her.

Taking the guns from the table, I began strapping them to my holsters as I did every day, as I’d done for as long as I could remember.

“Do you ever go anywhere without guns?” Aria asked quietly, turning around in her stool to face me. She was wearing some sort of long dress with a golden belt and golden sandals, reminding me of an Egyptian princess even if her hair didn’t match the image. It was still strange to think that she was really mine, that she would be mine until the very end. This wasn’t for one night or a few weeks of mindless pleasure. This wasn’t no-strings-attached. This was forever, for both of us. She was my responsibility from this day on. Remembering how my father had failed his wives, both my mother and now Nina, it seemed like a fucking impossible challenge.

“Not if I can avoid it. Do you know how to shoot a gun or use a knife?”

“No. My father doesn’t think women should get involved in fights.”

“Sometimes fights come to you. The Bratva and the Triad don’t distinguish between men and women.” The Triad had laid low. Most of their territories had been claimed by the Bratva, so they were the ones we were worried about.

Aria tilted her head. “So you’ve never killed a woman?”


Tags: Cora Reilly Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Erotic