Chapter 7

Seven

Watching Nikita close herself in the bathroom causes me both anxiety and relief.

Relief because I don't have to keep reminding myself I can't actually have the girl. Anxiety because that was her first time. I mean, we didn't have sex, but I did take something from her, and fuck if that doesn't make me feel like an asshole.

I tried to make it pleasurable for her, though. The way she came all over my hand was something else.

So much so that while she was blissed out, I took the chance to taste her on my finger.

Tinged with the coppery taste of her blood, I didn't miss how sweet she tasted.

I shouldn't have done it. Now it's all I can taste.

Looking at the rumpled top sheet, I pull it from the bed, glad to see the blood didn't seep through. I wipe my hands off on it before I look at the spot again.

My dick is like granite in my pants.

I hear the shower flick on.

Reaching down, I stare at the door as I pull my dick out.

I shouldn't be touching myself right now, but I can't help it.

I want to fuck my wife. So bad it fucking aches.

I stroke myself fast, knowing I have limited time.

I imagine the little mewls and moans she let out only moments before. I glance down and stare at the blood, remembering how her body tightened around me.

As I remember the way she came apart all over my hand, my own release finds me. My cum mixes with her blood on the sheet, painting quite the picture. Too bad it's not the truth.

My mind thinks about how tight and warm she was.

God, it was heaven. I would have loved to lose myself inside her.

Only that's not what she wanted.

As much as her body responded to me, I can't help but feel guilt at taking advantage of her. No matter what Haruaki demanded, I could have refused him. I could have stood up to him and faced the consequences later.

Why didn't I?

I don't want to think about it.

Wiping off my dick, I stick it back inside my pants before I move to the bed. She will be out here soon. Glancing at the robe, I move toward the bathroom door.

"I'm going to open the door, but only to put the robe inside for you. Come to bed whenever you want."

She doesn't say anything, so I toss the robe in the bathroom.

Then I take a pillow and take up a place on the floor.

I could share the bed with her. She's my wife, but I don't trust myself.

Not tonight.

I'm fucking exhausted.It was a long night, and I was hoping my shower at home would give me a second wind before I headed back to the hotel, only it didn't.

Last night, after Nikita came to bed and her breaths evened out, I left Nikita at the hotel as I headed over to Callum's. Autumn was confused when she saw me walk in but didn't ask any questions. After she made both Callum and me tea and went to bed, Callum and I started discussing what happens next.

I know that I can never divorce her. Nor let her leave me, but after talking with Callum, maybe we can each lead a semi-decent life.

He wants me to move her into my place. Abso-fucking-lutely not. I've never lived with a woman besides my mother, and I'm not going to start now. Besides, she lives across the hall, and I have cameras in her place, which if you ask me, she's practically living with me already. I see her every day. We just won't be sharing a bed.

The elevator dings, and the doors open, pulling me out of my head. As I walk down the hall, I pull out the room key. I pause outside of the door and brace myself. I don't know what kind of mood Nikita will be in after I ditched her last night.

I just needed to get a minute to myself.

Flashing the card in front of the reader, I let myself in. The room is quiet, and the only light is coming from around the edges of the curtains. I see that Nikita is passed out in the bed and pause. I've never seen her look so peaceful. The covers are pulled up to her chin, and she's curled up in a ball on her side. Her mouth is slightly parted even.

I'd never admit it out loud, but Nikita is beautiful in her own way. Her dark hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her cheeks are flushed. Usually when I see her, she's got her walls up and she looks completely unapproachable. Not this morning. Her face is serene. Open even.

Stop staring, I scold myself.

I move to the window and open the curtains before heading back to her side.

"Nikita."

Her eyes don't even twitch, so I say her name again. "Nikita, wake up."

Again, no response.

I sigh and step forward and place my hand on her shoulder and shake. "Nikita, wake up," I say harshly.

Next thing I know, Nikita's eyes spring open and she's lunging forward, grabbing me by the neck. Before I can blink, she has me pinned to the bed and is digging her nails into my throat.

"It's me," I rasp as I squeeze her hips.

Fuck, my dick is coming out to play again. What is it about the violence that this woman shows me that gets him going?

I've never actually enjoyed much pain before outside of the bedroom. Hell, a woman wouldn't dare put her hands on my neck this way, but Nikita does, and it fucking causes a half-chub. Goddamn, I'm demented.

Nikita's eyes clear up and she scurries off me. "I'm sorry."

I cough, rubbing my neck. "What the hell, woman?"

"You scared me." She shrugs as if choking me out isn't a big deal.

"I said your name twice."

"I didn't hear you."

"Clearly," I say sarcastically under my breath.

"Where did you get those clothes?" She frowns.

She must not have noticed me being gone then. I need to work on her situational awareness.

Then again, I did give her an orgasm. Those tend to knock women out.

"It's time to go home," I tell her.

She nods and starts to get out of bed. "I need to put the dress back on."

"Why?"

Nikita looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Because I didn't bring another set of clothes." She looks me up and down. "And I never left to find something else to wear."

Ignoring her, I get off the bed.

While she gets dressed, I walk across the room and look out the window.

Why the hell did she react that way? Even for her, it seemed extreme. Hell, her eyes reminded me of a wild animal trying to find a way to escape. It makes me wonder again what kind of hell she came from.

Nikita huffs. "Can you help me for a minute, please?"

"What do you need?"

"I can't get this thing zipped on my own. Autumn had to help me before the wedding."

"You didn't have any issues getting out of it last night on your own," I mutter under my breath.

"What did you just say?" Nikita demands as I stand, walking over to her.

"Turn around."

She does as I ask, and I can't help but stare at her back. The zipper rests at the base of her spine. Shit, she has back dimples right above her ass.

An image of her riding me reverse cowgirl with my thumbs digging into those little dimples pops into my head.

Fuck. I can't get hard now.

Shaking the thought away, I reach out and grab the zipper. I ignore the way Nikita's breath catches as I carefully zip her into the dress, my finger brushing against her skin the entire way up her spine.

I clear my throat and step back. "There."

"What should we do with the sheet?"

I look to the side and see her pointing toward the crumpled white cloth on the table.

When I left last night, the guard Haruaki had on our door gave me a look that told me he heard her moaning. It made me want to kill him, but I held back. At least it made him willing to let me leave instead of trying to stop me.

Not that I would have let him keep me there. Instead, I made him promise to stay the hell away from my wife and keep her in that room.

The same man was standing there when I arrived back this morning. Guess he did what I asked.

"We'll leave it here, and I'll text Haruaki to let him know where it can be found."

Nikita nods as she grabs her phone. "Ready."

I walk to the door and open it, holding it open for her. Nikita walks through and heads toward the elevator.

"You're welcome," I say sarcastically.

The ride in the elevator and the one back to our places is quiet. Neither of us has anything to say to each other. Again, I hold the door open to the apartment building for her, and she doesn't say thank you as she passes by. Clearly, my wife wasn't taught any manners.

After stepping out of the elevator, we walk side by side to our apartments. Only instead of turning to go to hers, she follows me into mine.

"What are you doing?"

Her brows furrow. "I assumed I was supposed to come with you."

"Absolutely not." I point out the door. "You need to go home."

She looks around my place. "No wonder that friend of yours is always ordering you shit. This looks like an empty box. Not a home. I hope you won't mind me taking over a little part of it."

"What are you talking about?" I ask as I set my keys in the little bowl by the door.

"When do you expect me to move in?" she says slowly as if I'm the one who is confused.

I shake my head. "You aren't moving in."

"But we're married."

"Only on paper. I value my life too much to cohabitate with you. You'll stay in your apartment, and I'll stay in mine. As far as I'm concerned, everything will go back to normal and we will only see each other when we have to."

"So we're living separately?"

"Yes."

"And Haruaki is okay with that?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter what Haruaki thinks. You are my wife now. When you signed that paper, you signed yourself over to me. Your debt to him has been paid. By me. I did what I needed to do to keep you alive. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave. It was a long night, and I need a nap."

Nikita's eyes grow colder as I speak.

Without saying a word, she spins on her heels and leaves, the door closing quietly behind her.

For a split second, I feel guilty for speaking to her the way that I did. For some reason, the door closing quietly makes me feel like I upset her more than if she slammed it.

Shit. I don't have time for this.

You do not care what Nikita thinks of you. I remind myself as I head toward my room.

Now the only question is, how long will it take for me to actually believe it?

I shutthe door quietly behind me and walk across the hall to my place. As soon as I step into my place, I shut the door and flip the lock. With my back against the door, I slide down to the floor, my dress pooling around me as my mind races.

Where did Declan go last night? When I went to bed last night, he was on the floor sleeping. I expected to see him this morning still dressed in his tux, looking disheveled. Instead, he was dressed in a fresh suit, and while he looked put together, I could tell from his eyes that if he got any sleep last night, it wasn't much.

Was he with another woman? Did he leave me to take care of his sexual needs with another? He said he would be faithful, but all men lie.

The thought makes my fists clench, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I know I'm being irrational. Like he said, this is just a marriage on paper, but honestly, I hate the idea of sharing him with anyone other than the Westies. Even then, I don't like it.

This is fake.

Yet, it doesn't feel fake to me. These feelings I have been trying to ignore are bubbling up. I read once that the guy a girl loses her virginity to will always mean something special to the girl. Is that what this is? Hormones because he broke my hymen? We didn't even have sex.

Then I remember the way he looked at me when I entered his apartment. It was like he thought the idea of living together was unbearable, and maybe it is. Still, it wasn't out of place for me to assume that I would have to move in with him. For fuck's sake, we were forced into an arranged marriage, what's one more archaic arrangement?

He looked at me as if he thought I would kill him in his sleep.

I scoff at the thought. I wouldn't do it unless he pushed me. Hell, the chances of that happening are slim. My father is still alive, for crying out loud, and he's been putting me through hell my entire life.

Still, I don't know one married couple that doesn't live together, and I don't know what to think. For now, I won't push it, but maybe later on. He is tearing all the rules I learned away from me. It's making me feel off-kilter. At least with my father, I knew what to expect. Declan is different. It makes him more dangerous. Not only am I already having conflicting feelings for him, but without knowing what his expectations are, I have no way to prepare for them.

Sighing, I look down and run my hands over my dress. Suddenly it starts to feel constrictive, and I feel like I can't breathe. Frantically, I unzip it, which is a feat with where the zipper is placed. Standing, the dress pools at my feet, and I step out of it.

Heading into the bathroom, I turn on the shower. I study myself in the mirror as I wait for it to heat up. I always thought I would wake up the day after my wedding and feel differently. Only everything feels the same.

I'm still locked in a cage of my father's making. Only the person who holds the key is different.

I have no say over my life and am nothing but a pawn.

Turning away from the mirror, I step into the shower. A feeling of despair hits me square in the chest for the first time since everything started.

Closing my eyes, I choke down the emotions trying to consume me.

God, I need to figure out a way to convince Declan to have sex with me. I've already resigned myself to living this loveless life with him. I'll take everything he dishes if he will give me the one thing I want.

A child.

My hands drift to my stomach.

For years, I've pushed back my desire to become a mother because I knew it would happen in time. When my father finally married me off.

Then, when I got to spend Christmas with Emily, Callum and Autumn's daughter, the desire hit. I desperately want to experience my child kicking and rolling inside of my stomach, watching my body change as the baby grows. Hell, even the idea of experiencing midnight cravings excites me. I'd gladly be sick for months on end for a child. I haven't been able to shove the desire back into its box.

God, the way Declan was with Emily. There is no denying that he would be a good father. He might never love me, but he would love his child. He wouldn't treat her the way my father treated me.

An image of him flashes through my mind of him sitting on the side of a hospital bed, holding a baby wrapped in a white blanket, with a smile on his face that makes my lady parts tingle.

Fuck, I push away the image. I can't even let myself entertain the thought, or can I?

I just want someone to love me unconditionally, like I love them. Is that too much to ask for?

Logically, I know that's not the right reason to bring a child into the world. I also know that if I have one, I will be dooming them to a life with the Mafia. Only I would protect them like my mother should have protected me.

If only Declan knew that all I want is a baby. A laugh bubbles out of me as I imagine his reaction.

He would be appalled.

Maybe someday he will be open to the idea. I just need to show him that I can be the wife he wants. Then he will reward me. That's how Galiniasaid her marriage worked.

Shaking my head, I turn off the shower and step out. After drying off and getting dressed, I head back toward the living room. My phone is still on the floor next to the door, and I grab it. Touching the screen, I see that I have no new notifications, which isn't surprising. I have no friends. No one to call me. Still, I plug my phone in to charge on the island and head into the living room. Curling up on the couch, I grab the blanket that hangs off the back and wrap it around me. With the remote in hand, I start scrolling through the channels, looking for something to watch until my husband demands my attention.

I scoff at the idea.

If I leave it up to him, I'll be waiting forever. No, I need to plan how I'm going to get his attention.

My mind starts racing with ideas.

Watch out, Declan O'Brien. I'm a woman on a mission, and I won't stop until I get what I want.