Page 5 of Your Sharpest Edge
I refused to cry in front of him. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed myself forward. This wasn’t just going to be my first kiss; I knew what came next. When I confided in Layla that I’d never had sex before, we researched together, trying to preparefor what comes after marriage. I knew I would have to sleep with Dimitri.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. He is cute,” she had said while helping me pack the few belongings I had from home.
Home.
Whatever home was.
“I-I don’t know what that means.” Despite the hours of porn I watched with Layla the last week, I didn’t know what I was expecting from all this.
As soon as we stepped out of the Orange County courthouse and into the blinding sunlight, he seized my wrist. The sudden contact jolted me, and he pulled me close. “You will fuck me until you bleed all over the sheets. You will take it. You will not cry, and you will give me pleasure.”
His demands were filled with “you” statements. “I-I’ve never...”
“No, of course not. I had to confirm you weren’t a slut and sleeping with your ice partner.”
I winced as his fingers dug into my wrist, pain shooting up my arm.
Despite what the media assumed about Ivan and me, we were nothing more than close friends. I wondered if Ivan had found a new partner by now. Meanwhile, I was still searching for that connection, struggling to balance my dreams with the expectations weighing me down.
My mother’s words echoed in my mind. “Focus on being a wife,” she had said. “You need to prioritize your future when you finish skating.”
Dimitri’s grip tightened, and I bit back a cry of pain. The sadness of my first kiss, the cold reality of my marriage, and the loss of my dreams all converged in this moment. I closed my eyes, trying to summon the strength to endure.
“I need to call my friend, Layla, and let her know everything went okay and that we’re going back to your place.”
He was now dragging me through the parking lot. A few people stared, but I kept my head down. I reached into the pocket of my white minidress for my phone, but he stopped and snatched the phone with his free hand.
“You don’t need to call her ever again. You have a question, you ask me.”
My heart sank. “What about if I need to call my mom?” My voice trembled, a mixture of desperation and fear creeping in.
He nodded, his expression cold and unyielding. “She’s aware that you’re learning to be the best wife possible. You can call her once a week at a prearranged time or while you’re at practice.”
A wave of devastation washed over me. The sinking pit in my stomach grew deeper, the reality of my situation crashing down on me. I wished I’d been taught better or had a clearer understanding of what was supposed to happen. This wasn’t what I had imagined—this felt like a prison sentence.
“Get in,” Dimitri demanded.
I reluctantly piled into the car, a surge of relief washing over me as he was forced to let go of my wrist.
I looked out the window as he peeled out of the parking lot, my eyes blurring with tears. The day etched itself into my memory forever as my wedding day—a day of heartbreak and entrapment. A day I’d always remember with a mixture of dread and resignation... if I even made it that long.
“Undress,” he demanded.
We were back at his apartment, and he didn’t even bother showing me around.
“Can I get a tour?” I asked, desperately trying to avoid this.
The man in front of me was my husband, and I had no idea who he was.
“No.” He stalked toward me, and I turned around, quickening my pace to get as far away as the apartment would allow.
It was pretty much one room and was clearly decorated by someone else. The design was minimal, with a cold and sterile feeling. This was exactly what I would have imagined his place to look like.
“Can I get to know you? I feel like we should talk to each other first?” I asked, but his hands gripped around my waist, holding me in the air as I screeched.
“Please,” I begged. “I want to know you.”
“The only thing you need to know is where my cock is.”
