Whatever I’d expected her to say, I hadn’t expected that.
Still, my cock throbbed harder at the prospect.
“If you want that, of course,” I rumbled.
She swallowed, her gaze flickering from mine. “A-And you with a suit on and me with no clothes on?”
Stunned wasn’t the word at her stuttered fantasy.
I wasn’t about to complain, still, I reached up, cupped her throat, and forced her to look at me.
“I thought you’d be nervous talking about those things with me.” Hell, about being naked. It was quite clear to me that she was demure where most women weren’t. Used to hiding herself away because of her father’s position and her betrothal to me.
“I-I am, but for two years, I’ve had nothing to do but think. And watch porn.” She clenched her eyes shut. “I’ve watched so much porn, you wouldn’t believe it. No one would go near me, no one would touch me, no one would kiss me when the betrothal agreement was in place. I-I needed that.”
It fit that, from her past, she’d consider sex as intimacy, and that kind of intimacy as affection, and it actually made me glad that she’d been off limits, because she could have fucked her way through her senior year and never have found what she was looking for, would only have been a willing hole for a bunch of prick jocks.
So, I got it. I did. I wasn’t mad. I was, if anything, a little sad for her.
It made me want more for her, even if I wasn’t sure I could give her what she needed.
Physically, sure, but she wanted more than that. I could see it. She was crying out for care and love, affection. I could give her the latter, could even give her the first, but love?
I doubted it.
I was a soldier, a sniper—she’d said it herself—a serial killer. Did we even have the capacity for love?
That all whispered through my mind as I stared at her, then, unsure of what else to say, I focused on something else. “No more porn. Not without me.”
And her smirk reappeared, her shyness and timidity disappearing, and she retorted, “Who’s going to stop me?”
INESSA
His eyes flashed at that,and I saw amusement warring with irritation.
He was possessive.
I’d felt that from the start. He was also finicky, particular, and downright difficult when it came to certain things.
The towels were folded just so and weren’t piled, but were rolled and stored standing upright in baskets in the bathroom.
All his clothes were ironed—even his frickin’ boxers and socks.
And everything had a stillness about it—sure, most inanimate objects did unless they were inBeauty and the Beast—but this entire place was like a museum. Like, if I hadn’t come in, nothing would ever move. Not the blanket he had draped over the large sofa, which I was hesitant to touch considering what I’d found on it that first day,skank, or the remote controls which were always in the same place, even when he switched on the TV.
It was like he was a ghost within these walls, and it was really difficult trying to fit in.
I was neat by nature, but I spent a lot of time at home by force—I wasn’t used to my own living space being so still. So solemn.
But it was the first week of my marriage, so I wasn’t about to rock the boat too much and, even if I wasn’t happy about having to go furniture shopping in the morning, I was looking forward to replacing the things I didn’t like, hopefully making it more comfortable and slut-germ-free in the process.
Still, I liked his possessiveness, and call me nuts, but I was going to use it to my own gain.
Father had been a good man until Mama had died. Some women were strong enough to hold men as powerful as my father and Eoghan in the clasp of their hands—not in a bad way, just in a show of strength. Some women could harness that violence, could disseminate it, remind the crime lord they were a man, and make them as happy as they could be.
After she’d died? Things had changed for the worse, and ever since, with things deteriorating when he’d married that slut Svetlana, I’d realized just how large an effect my mother had on my father. The right woman made a shit load of a difference, and the wrong one? Tipped the scales and shoved an already dangerous man into another territory.
Knowing what I did, it made me want that for Eoghan, because I wanted to be happy. I didn’t want to be tucked away inside all the time, I didn’t want to be a broodmare or a trophy wife. I didn’t want to be brought out for fancy parties, then sheltered away at home to rot.