When I felt my eyes widen and didn’t respond, he chuckled deeply… darkly.
My wedding night was here, upon me, and I was covered in blood, my white dress splattered in red pinpoints, my face and neck feeling tight, sticky for the silence my husband exacted on Edoardo.
He went for his belt and undid the buckle, pulling it loose so the two halves of leather hung open, and then went for the button of his black slacks. When he chuckled again, I looked back at his face, realizing I’d lost focus as I watched him undress.
“Yeah, my gorgeous little wife likes what she sees.” He hummed but didn’t undo his pants, just kept his fingers on the button. “I can’t wait to show you all the other things you’ll enjoy.” He took a step closer but I was frozen in place, my eyes still wide, my throat tight. He moved another step closer.
I held my breath as I tipped my head back so I could look into his face. The lights were off in the hotel room, the moonlight and glow from the city lights and skyscrapers right outside the large window across from us bathed him in this ominous glow.
My body tensed when he lifted his hand and I felt him drag the pad of his thumb over my jawline and down my neck. He pulled his hand away and stared at the digit for a second before shifting his hand in my direction so I could see the dark, rust-colored smear on his skin.
“Amara,” he murmured my name deeply, his gaze going down to my mouth, then to my neck… and lower still until he got his gaze lingering on my chest. He hummed again. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of you covered in gore and not sure what’s going to happen next.” He made a lewd show of dragging his gaze from my breasts to my face.
His expression was stone-cold as he held my focus and brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking it off. I gasped, shocked at what he’d just done. And before I could react he had his hand wrapped around my throat, walked me backward so the wall stopped our movements.
He added slight pressure and lifted up slightly, causing me to rise on my toes to keep the pressure off my neck so I could breathe. Nikolai leaned in so our noses barely touched, so our lips were almost brushing. We shared the same breath for long seconds.
“Mmm.” The vibrations from his deep voice speared right between my thighs. “I’m going to have so much fun with you, wife.”
And then he was dragging his tongue along my lips. It wasn’t a kiss, it wasn’t soft or sweet or gentle. It was obscene, like a lion licking at his prey, marking his territory.
His body heat caused beads of sweat to form along the length of my spine and between my breasts
And then he was gone a second later, taking several steps back so I was forced to brace my palms flat on the wall behind me to steady myself.
“As much as I get hard seeing you covered in the blood of someone I killed…” He tipped his chin toward the open doorway to the bathroom. “I’m sure you’d feel more comfortable getting cleaned for your wedding night.”
And then he turned and left the bedroom, walking out of the room. I was frozen for long moments until I heard the sound of ice being dropped into a glass in the sitting room. I closed my eyes and sucked in a ragged breath.
When I opened them I was staring at the arch ceiling, the chandelier in the room elaborate and obnoxiously luxurious. I lifted my hand, realizing it slightly shook, and touched my bottom lip, still feeling it wet from his saliva, warm from his tongue. And then I shocked myself by running my tongue along my bottom lip, tasting the flavor of Nikolai mixed with the coppery flavor of blood from the man he killed.
I pushed away from the wall and walked on unsteady feet to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. Not that a lock would keep a man like Nikolai Petrov away. If he wanted in I knew he’d find a way.
He’d always find a way.
Chapter
Fourteen
Amara
I’d been in the bathroom too long, so long the water had run cold and still I stayed in the stall. So long the ends of my hair had dried and curled against my back, the strands making my flesh feel even more sensitive.
I’d expected Nikolai to pound on the door, to demand I come out and give him what was now rightfully his.
But he never came, never rushed me.
And I could breathe, gather myself, and clear my head. Or at least I could until I faced him. Which I had to do sooner or later so I might as well get it over with.
I closed my eyes and breathed out once. Twice. Three times. I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection before straightening and making sure my towel was on securely in place. I’d been too flustered to grab a change of clothes from the overnight bag that had been packed before leaving my home. My home. Not any longer.
My hands shook and I hated it, hated that I didn't have control. Whatever had been shoved into that bag was all I’d take with me. Nothing from my “old life” would come with me. I’d have nothing physical to hold memories of whatever happiness I’d managed to scrape up living under my father’s rule.
I shook my head to push myself back to the present. Here I was, about to step out into the master suite with nothing but a thigh-length terry cloth covering my nudity. My virginity.
With one more look at my reflection, I turned towards the door, reached out with a shaky hand, and gripped the handle. I opened it just as I reached up and turned off the light, plunging the small room in darkness, feeling like it would protect me somehow.
It was a ludicrous thought. I had a feeling Nikolai thrived in the shadows.