"Because you're my wife," he snarls. "And I'd do anything for you. I'll kill for you. I'll hurt for you. I'll destroy for you." His voice drops lower, deadlier. "It doesn't matter what. Doesn't matter where. Doesn't matter who."
I release his hands and lean down to bite his shoulder and his neck. I mark him with my teeth the way he's marked me with his hands. His freed hands fist in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat.
He retaliates, teeth scraping along my neck before biting down hard enough to make me yelp. In. Out.
I welcome the pain.
Because when I hurt, I don't feel guilty.
"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck yes!" I scream, completely lost in sensation. "Fuck me! FUCK ME!"
The orgasm hits me like a freight train, and my entire body convulses as I come harder than I ever have before. The force of it is so powerful that I fly off his cock, and I feel his hot cum splashing against my sore pussy, my ass, and my back.
His hands release my hair as he throws his head back in a low moan.
But instead of staying here, I push myself up off him to my feet, run into the bathroom, and slam the door shut behind me.
46
ANATOLY
I'm still lyingon my back, staring at the ceiling, not quite sure what the fuck just happened. Everything seemed to unfold as if on its own, and this was the last thing I expected when I walked into this room.
My raw, bloody knuckles throb. The mayor's blood is still under my fingernails. Indigo's sweat clings to my skin. And the smell of sex seeps into every pore.
I should get up. I should go to her. But guilt eats away at me and keeps me here on the floor.
The words she hurled at me keep playing on repeat:
"You took my choices away from me. You're no different than him!"
Fuck!
And when she stared into my eyes even as my cock was buried inside of her, and she hissed those three little words that I never wanted to hear from her, even as we fucked harder than we've ever fucked before.
I hate you.
That cut deeper than any knife could.
Because there's a part of me that knows that she fucking meant it.
That same part of me knows that instead of bringing her the closure that I thought I was bringing her, all I did was bring her even more pain.
I fucking hurt her.
You took my choices away from me.
She's right.
Killing Bennet should've beenherchoice, but in my own anger at finding out what that bastard did, I somehow made it about me.
Yes, I might've done it for her, and yes, I've killed for her before. But the last time I killed for her, I waited for her to tell me that this is exactly what she wanted.
But this time?
This time, I went behind her back, dug into her past even though I knew she didn't want me to look, and then killed without ever asking if that's really what she wanted.
Without ever thinking about if this really is what she wanted.