Page 59 of Stolen Bride

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But now—

I haven’t seen Anika or Yelena since we arrived here. They’ve been kept in their rooms mostly, with Olga and Sasha. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I press my hand to my stomach, thinking of Luca kissing Sofia’s stomach, and my chest tightens until I feel as if I can’t breathe. The child I might have had was all I’d had to hope for, someone to love me without reservations, someone that I could pour everything into without feeling as if I were wrong in some way for loving them. I can’t shake the feeling that I’d been pregnant before Andrei and Stepan, and now, if the doctor is to be believed, I’ll never have that baby at all.

I don’t know why Viktor hasn’t tossed me aside when I can’t even give him the one thing he married me for, and he clearly doesn’t want me mothering his daughters any longer.

What purpose do I have here? What can I do for him, beyond being a vehicle for his anger and resentment, something to punish and break?If that’s all I am to him anymore, I can’t bear it,I think, my arms wrapping around my midsection as I start to cry harder. I can’t take much more. I’m exhausted, wounded, hurt inside and out, and all I want to do is collapse and—

“Caterina.”

I hear Viktor’s voice behind me, and I stiffen immediately, my entire body going rigid as I try to decide whether to turn and look at him or not, what the right choice is. If I do, I don’t know what I’ll see in his face, but if he demands that I go back into the house, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t right now, I can’t go back in—

“Caterina, look at me.”

His voice doesn’t sound angry—almost concerned? That makes no sense, not any more than the look on his face last night, but it’s enough to make me slowly turn, my hands trembling where they’re pressed against my body.

Viktor is standing there, worry written across his face, and it shocks me into absolute stillness. He walks towards me, his mouth tightening, and I wince back, although I can’t seem to move.

“One of the guards said he saw you run out here.” Viktor takes another step towards me, almost touching me now, and I feel as if I can’t breathe. “Are you alright?”

He sounds as if he cares. He sounds as if it matters. I feel like I’m going to scream, so many emotions that I can’t name them all bubbling up and feeling as if they’re going to tear me apart from the inside out.

“No,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “But why do you fucking care?”

Viktor blinks, as if taken aback. “You’re my wife, Caterina, I—”

“Stop fucking pretending as if that matters to you!” I scream it before I can bite my tongue, my whole body starting to shake. “Stop pretending as if you give a shit about me, or what happens to me, or anything else!”

Viktor stares at me. “I’m not pretending, Caterina. Your well-being matters to me more than I knew, more than—”

“All of that was a lie!” I clench my hands into fists, feeling my nails bite into my palms, the words rushing out now that I’ve begun. “After what you’ve been doing to me since we came here, how could I possibly believe—”

“That’s different. You tried to run from me. I had to make an example, to show you what would happen if you didn’t listen, to convince you to obey me—” Viktor trails off. “I’m angry at you, Caterina, and yes, perhaps I’ve taken that out on you in some ways. But above all else, I want to protect and care for you. You are my wife. What can I say to convince you of that?”

“You can’t,” I bite out, the tears of grief replaced with hot, angry tears burning in my eyes and searing their way down my cheeks. “Nothing you can say could convince me otherwise.”

Viktor pauses, his blue gaze darkening, intent on mine. I see a shudder go through him, as if he’s trying to resist something, to stop himself.

And then he takes one stride towards me, a hand going into my hair and pulling my head back, his body turning mine and pushing me back into a stand of trees surrounded by a canopy of flowers.

“Then I’ll show you,” he growls.

And his mouth crashes down onto mine.

CATERINA

Ishould have shoved him off of me, screamed at him, hit him, anything. I should have kicked him in the balls, maybe.

Anything other than what I did, which was let him kiss me, violently and passionately, in a way that I’m not sure he’s ever kissed me, not even when he was pretending to give a shit back at the cabin.

I hate this man.The thought runs through my head, but not enough to break through the sudden heat that blooms inside of me, flaring through my veins and searing my nerves, awakening every sensation that I’ve felt in the past days that I didn’t want to feel.

His lips are firm and hard and hot on mine, his hands gripping my waist as he backs me against one of the trees, and it feels like a different Viktor than the one who looked so coldly at me in the hotel room after his men brought me back, who ordered me to bend over for his belt, who tied me up and left me with his cum splattered across my face. This feels more like the Viktor that I woke up to bathing me in the cabin, the one who stayed by my side, who fed me eggs, and helped me dress. I’d believed that man was a lie, but what I can’t understand is why he would pretend now. There’s no reason for it, no purpose.

And this doesn’t feel like pretending. I can feel how hard he is, rigid against my thigh, pressing through the wool of his suit pants and my dress. A surge of lust washes over me at the thought of him inside of me, the thing my body has craved despite myself for days now.

“I need you,” he pants against my mouth, barely breaking the kiss to speak, one hand coming up to squeeze one of my breasts. It hurts, my flesh still bruised and sore from the older wounds, and from the night he whipped me with the belt, but there’s pleasure there too, compounded by his thumb grazing over my hardening nipple. His mouth presses hard against mine again, his teeth nipping at my lower lip as he surges against me, and I gasp, unable to stop the raging tide of desire that threatens to sweep over me.

I shouldn’t let him do this. I shouldn’t give any part of myself to him. I should fight, resist, but I can’t bring myself to. My body is throbbing, aching, desperate for him. I gasp as his mouth goes to my throat, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh there and then licking those same spots with his tongue, gentleness after the pain.


Tags: M. James Erotic