"Please," she begs.
I smirk against her, taking one last taste of her pleasure before I turn to her inner thigh, pressing a soft kiss against the flesh there. She shivers and then collapses into the bed entirely, glancing back at me over her shoulder.
Her face is a mixture of unfamiliar emotions as I pull the nightgown back over her hips and stroke my palms down her thighs. She knows better than to stare at me, yet it seems she can't help herself.
"I still hate you," she whispers.
I close my eyes and feel a torment unlike any I've ever known. "As you should."
The room falls silent, only the sounds of our breathing between us. Her eyes are growing heavy, and there is no reason for me to stay. But I find that I am not yet ready to go. And so, I sit there, stroking her thighs beneath my palms. Studying the curves of her body. Trying to make sense of this growing war inside me.
I want to know if she carries my child yet. I want to own her. Possess her from the inside out. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything, and it unnerves me.
I turn my thoughts toward the gala. It will be our first public appearance together since the wedding. Mercedes has been instructed to help her prepare. But I still have lingering doubts in my mind about her readiness for the occasion.
"Tomorrow is the event," I murmur. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you it's important."
She glances at me over her shoulder. "I'm well aware."
I stare into her eyes and consider telling her that Mercedes might need her as a welcome distraction, though she would never admit it. She will be seeing Van der Smit and his new wife there, and it could undoubtedly stir up some issues in her. But my sister would never forgive me for telling Ivy such an intimate detail of her life. She doesn't like to appear human to anyone.
I will need to deal with her later this evening after I've finished my conversation with Ivy. In the lingering silence, I know what it is I need to address. But I suspect as soon as I bring up her brother, she will shut down entirely.
Just as I'm about to mention it, there's a knock on the bedroom door. It's late, and my staff knows better than to interrupt me in here unless it's something important.
Ivy sits up, glancing at the door as I rise from the bed and move to answer the door. I open it enough to see Antonia standing there in her pajamas, an apologetic expression on her face.
"I'm sorry to disturb, sir," she says tiredly. "But one of your men is waiting for you in your study. He says it's urgent."
I nod and dismiss her before glancing back at my wife. Our conversation will have to wait for another time.
"Go to sleep, Ivy."
She drags the sheet up to cover herself and meets my gaze for one lingering second before breaking it.
"Okay."
29
Ivy
I sit up as I watch Santiago walk out of my room. The door closes with a soft click. I wait to hear the lock turn, but it doesn’t.
I wonder who’s here to see him so late at night. Wonder what could be so urgent.
Throwing the blankets off, I pull on a robe, very aware that I’m still damp between my legs. I’m trying not to think about what he just did or remember the feel of his mouth on me, his tongue inside me.
He’s a monster. That’s all I need to remember about my husband.
My one consolation is what my brother told me.
I walk to the door and lean my ear against it. He’s quiet, though, and rarely makes a sound, so I wait, giving him time to go before I open it and peer out.
The corridor is dark and empty.
Taking a few steps, I glance over the banister down to the first floor. I can’t see more than the large hall that connects the different corridors, but I don’t hear anyone, and the rooms are dark, not even the usual candles lit now.
If he has a guest, then he’d have taken him into his study, especially if he wants privacy.
I take a defiant step toward the staircase. If he or anyone sees me, I’ll say I’m hungry. Or lost if I’m caught near his office. After what he did to me, I need to be smarter about things. Not so passive. Not allowing things to happen to me. I need to be more proactive about saving myself. Because I’m on my own, and I know it.
I think back to the days before the wedding. It feels like years ago. I feel like I was a different person then. To think that for a brief span of time, I’d thought I could ask Santiago to help me. I’d thought I could go to my husband for help in keeping my sister safe against my own brother. I’m an idiot, though, because I can’t even keep myself safe, and the man I thought I might turn to is the devil himself.