Chapter 36

Shea~

I was such a goddamn hypocrite, but my pride didn't seem to care when Noah's body was covering mine like this. Lust did a great job of clouding my judgement, and it felt so good that I couldn't even bring myself to put up a decent fight.

"Fuck, you feel like sin all wrapped up in a perfect package," Noah grunted above me, finally sliding every thick inch deep inside me. "Your pussy was made for my cock, lass."

I didn't want to examine what I was feeling when Noah and I were like this, so I did the only thing that I could do; I held on for the ride. I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders, then lifted my knees to give him more room for every thrust into my body. I welcomed everything that he wanted to do to me, and that's what made me a hypocrite. As long as it was physical, I could handle whatever Noah wanted from me. However, it was when he opened his mouth that I was terrified of what he was capable of.

Staring down at me, Noah's face was like gorgeous carved marble of masculinity, and jealousy reared its ugly head. Having not been a virgin myself when we'd entered this marriage, the feeling was misplaced, but all I could think about were all the blondes in his past, and the feeling hit me hard and unexpectedly. Normally, I was too out of my mind with pleasure to think about anything else when we were like this, but for whatever reason, that wasn't the case right now.

"Stop," I rushed out, my hands now pushing at his chest, instead of holding him closer.

Noah immediately stilled. "What's wrong? Your arm-"

"Just stop," I ordered more firmly, pushing at him harder.

Realizing that I was serious, Noah pulled out of me, his face a horrible mixture of confusion and concern. However, instead of reassuring him, I scrambled to sit up, taking the comforter with me to wrap around my naked body.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Staring into his aquamarine-colored gaze, I told him the absolute truth of the matter. "Lots of things," I answered. "I'm not blonde, I'm not built, and I'm not submissive, making me everything that my husband never wanted in a woman." His chin went up, and those eyes of his looked ready to shoot fire. "My husband also lies to me every time that he opens his mouth, telling me how perfect I am when we both know that I'm nothing like what he wanted in a wife. As for loving me, what else is he expected to say after getting caught with a smoking gun in his hand." I let out a dark laugh. "Honestly, I think I would have preferred catching you with a blonde than knowing that you wanted out of this marriage enough to kill me."

Like all men that had too much pride, Noah didn't apologize. Instead, he said, "I'm not a liar, lass."

"Well, since I don't believe you, where does that leave us?" I asked, tightening the comforter around my vulnerable naked body, ignoring Keavy's words from earlier.

"Exactly where we're at," he answered coldly. "As husband and wife."

I let out a heavy sigh. "No matter how I feel?"

Noah gave me a terse nod. "No matter how you feel."

Testing the waters, I asked, "And what if I asked you never to touch me again?"

"Is that what you're asking?"

"It's just a question," I lied.

"No, it's not," he bit out, calling me on my shit. "You're deliberately trying to push me back into bed with all those nameless, faceless, meaningless blondes that your insecurities can't seem to get past. So, tell me, lass…what choice gets me closer to Hell? Being an adulterer or a rapist?"

I flinched at that.

Noah reached out, then grabbed my chin in between his fingers. "Which is it, Shea? Do you want me fucking other women or do you want me to take it from my wife?" His voice sounded like shards of glass as he growled out the question. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Tell me what you can live with, and I'll make it happen, no matter the cost to my soul."

"Your soul is already condemned," I pointed out.

"Not with anything that I can't live with, lass," he shot back. "While the blood on my hands doesn't bother me one goddamn bit, fucking other women because my wife doesn't believe me is a hard pass for me, Shea. Granted, the other two options are to be celibate or rape my own wife on a nightly basis, which leaves being celibate since rape is more distasteful to me than murder."

Because I was angry at everything, I said, "And there's no way that celibacy is an actual option."

After a few seconds of silence, Noah did what he did best, and anyone that didn't believe that manipulation was a talented art form was wrong. "Pick."

"What?"

"Since you're the one laying out my options, I think that it's only fair that you choose which one works best for you," he said. "So, pick the option that works best for you."

I felt like there was an anvil sitting on my chest. I'd sounded and felt so confident not two seconds ago, but now I felt like I was walking straight into a trap with no way out. I didn't know which option would work best for me because none of them would. I'd been bluffing, and it was apparent that I was a horrible poker player because Noah had expertly put my back up against the wall, and I could feel blood rushing through my ears with the weight of my answer.

So, instead of choosing the option that would work best for me, I chose the one that would work out the best for him. There was no way that a man like Noah could actually live his life celibate, and he'd already made it clear that divorce wasn't on that list of options. So, that left giving him permission to sleep with other women or sleeping with me every night, and since I was very aware of his preferences, I chose the only option that would work for both of us, him more so.

"I'm sure you can find enough blondes to keep you company at night," I said, the words forcing pressure behind my eyes.

Noah didn't say anything, and when he stood up to begin getting dressed, I wanted to take the words back. I had no idea why, but I knew myself enough to know that my emotions were everywhere, so I kept my mouth shut rather than say anything that might make things worse. However, in truth, I wanted to go back in time and never overhear the conversation that he'd had with his men. I wanted to never know that he liked blondes with big breasts. I wanted to be enough, and knowing that I'd never be, I was cutting my nose off to spite my face with a horrible decision that was going to backfire on me because I was terrified of having my heart broken by hope that Noah Murphy actually could love me just as I was.

I watched silently as Noah got dressed, and as he buttoned up his shirt, he said, "I will not disrespect you by trolling the bars for easy pussy. So, as a compromise, instead of sleeping around publicly and picking up strippers like a middle-aged man in the midst of a mid-life crisis, I'm sure you won't mind if I find a suitable mistress to keep me company at night. After all, even though I might be breaking my marital vows, that doesn't mean that I can't be loyal to at least one woman."

I let out a strangled breath as Noah turned to leave the bedroom, and the threat of him having an actual relationship with someone else felt more devastating than him cheating on me with random blondes. I sat on the bed, wondering what I'd just done, fighting against everything that I had not to chase after him. After all, this was all my doing, right?

The tears that I'd been holding back finally found their way down my cheeks, and I just couldn't wrap my mind around how my life had been perfectly normal only a few weeks ago, but now it was a complete disaster, and I wasn't even sure if I could blame it entirely on Noah anymore. I no longer knew what I wanted, and anger at everything was making it impossible for me to identify what I even wanted. My fear, resentment, and insecurities were making things more complicated than they needed to be, but I didn't know how to stop myself from feeling what I was feeling. I didn't know how to get his words out of my head, and I didn't know why his preferences for blondes and his critique of my body stuck with me more than his professions of love. I'd never been insecure before, but then I'd never had a husband before, either.

I dropped on the bed, curled myself up in the sheets, then cried like there'd been a death in the family, which could have been me. I had just killed two men, and instead of letting my husband comfort me and talk me through it, I'd chosen to push him into the arms of someone that he planned on making a life with. I was a killer, he was an adulterer, and I no longer recognized myself in this new life of mine.

The worst part was that I didn't even have anyone to talk to about it. I couldn't go to my parents because of how heavily involved they were in all this, and my once-best friend didn't speak to me anymore because I refused to share my family's shameful secrets with him. As for everyone else in my life, I wasn't close enough to any of them to place this kind of burden on them, and the last thing that I wanted to do was put anyone in the path of Noah Murphy or any of the O'Briens.

As I cried into the pillows, I'd never felt so alone in all my life, and the feeling was a crippling one. I felt like nothing was in my control, and if I could sleep away the next fifty years, I would. The way that I was feeling right now, I'd ignore my life if I could, but I couldn't. There was no escape, and I knew it now more than I'd ever had before.