Chapter 33

33

Mira

"I’m no longer a clergyman, as you’re aware." He continues to focus on the road.

"But you said you haven’t been with any woman for a while, and whenever we make love?—"

"You mean when we fuck?—"

"You used the word 'love,' earlier."

"What?" He frowns.

"You said?—"

"I know what I said, and it was a slip of the tongue."

"I thought you said you don’t lie?" I narrow my gaze on him.

He tightens his fingers on the wheel and continues to drive. "I don’t. Except when I’m with you, apparently."

I blink. I hadn’t expected to hear that. "Are you saying?—"

"People say all kinds of things when they’re having sex."

"We weren’t having sex; you didn’t come."

"I made you come… And hard, as I recall."

On cue, my backside smarts. I shift around, trying to find a more comfortable position. I try to be discreet about it, but he notices it, of course, the bastard.

"Does your butt hurt?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I enjoyed seeing my palm print etched into your arse."

Oh, my god, what is it about him saying arse in that British accent of his that has me all hot and bothered again? "I don’t know what game you’re playing?—"

"Not a game."

"—but I’m not going to be put off by you demonstrating your kinky side."

He blinks. "My kinky side?" he asks slowly.

"Spanking me, then the, uh—backside entry."

"You mean anal?"

My flush deepens. I’m not a prude. I've read enough super-spicy novels and listened to even more of them, so of course, I know my way around the smutabulary, but I’ve never been able to say that world aloud. Never mind the fact that, an hour ago, my husband’s monster cock was up my ass. Oh, shoot, I am a prude.

"Exactly," I say in a prim voice. "Since you took me to the BDSM club, I know you’re not vanilla in your preferences."

"Not vanilla?" There’s something in his voice that makes me cast a quick glance in his direction. The divot to the left of his mouth tells me he’s finding this entire conversation amusing.

"It’s not funny," I protest.

"It’s not," he agrees.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because you think what I did to you was kinky."

"It was."

"You have no idea," he says in that voice that has more than a hint of darkness to it.

A ripple of heat squeezes my belly. "You mean, that was the beginner’s level introduction to smutty sex?"

"I mean, that was the pre-kindergarten level introduction to my depravity."

"Oh." I know my mouth is open and that I’m staring at him, but it’s the first time we’ve had an open conversation about something… So what, if it’s about his perversions.

"So you have, uh…different tastes, but you haven’t been with a woman since..."

“Since I left to go traveling, two years ago.”

“You...you haven’t been with a woman in two years?” I stare.

He merely stares at me.

"But you go to the BDSM club."

"And as you’ve experienced firsthand, I don’t have to ejaculate in order to indulge my debaucheries."

Oh, my god! The heat in my stomach expands into a full-blown forest fire, which instantly spreads to my extremities. My lower belly clenches, and I squeeze my thighs together to tamp down on the yawning emptiness.

"For someone who was a virgin until a week ago, you sure relish the dirty talk," he murmurs.

"Only when it’s you doing the dirty talking."

He chuckles, then seems to realize what he’s done, for he wipes all expression from his face.

"It’s okay to laugh and smile and cry and show emotion. You are human, after all."

"And it’s because I allowed myself to be human, because I chose to give in to my emotions, that I'm here today."

A hot sensation stabs into my chest. It’s as if he’s plunged a burning rod into my heart. He seems to realize what he’s said, for he scowls. "I didn’t mean?—"

"Yes, you did. You’re regretting that you married me."

"Not for the reasons you think."

"So you do regret marrying me."

He steps on the accelerator and the car speeds up. "I never regret my actions."

"Expect the time you gave in to your emotions and lost the woman you loved."

Tell me you don’t love her. Tell me you love me. You said it earlier; just say it aloud again.

But he doesn’t. The muscles at his jaw line flex, but he stays silent, focuses on the driving. In another ten minutes, we drive up in front of his townhouse.

We stay in the car; the silence stretches, then he states, "I’m not the man you think I am." His voice is emotionless. "I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m not Prince Charming."

"No, you’re the beast, the villain. You're Hades, and Severus Snape, and Loki, rolled into one."

"Severus Snape?" He frowns.

"Point is, the darkness in you is what I find so attractive."

His jaw tightens. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Sure, I do. I know that every time you look at me, you feel something, but you’re so convinced you’ll never own your emotions again, you won’t admit it."

"It’s why you should have never married me, Belle." His tone is serious.

And when I search his features, I realize he believes it, too. I swallow hard. "I married you of my own free will."

"Did you?" There’s something in his features, an expression I can’t interpret.

A cold sensation spirals down my spine. I shiver, then shove it aside. "I did," I say in a firm voice.

"What you got a taste of in my office is not even a starter course."

"I’m not scared, Edward. I want to be your main and your dessert. I want to be your eight-course meal."

He scoffs, "You, the newly deflowered virgin… You have no idea what you’re talking about."

"No, don’t do that." I cut my palm through the air. "Don’t patronize me. I am not a child."

"You were one not too long ago."

I shake my head. "You don’t get to diminish me. I know what I’m doing."

"Do you?"

"I do. I knew what I was taking on when I left home and moved to a new city. I knew what I was doing when I agreed to marry you."

"You didn’t have a choice."

"I could have refused you and my father. I could have walked out."

"But you didn’t."

"That’s right." I straighten my spine. "I chose the tough route, because it was my responsibility to help my father. I don’t shirk my duties."

"So that’s what this is?" He looks me up and down. "You want to sacrifice yourself at the altar of my depravity because you want to live up to the duty of being my wife."

"Yes." I tip up my chin. "I won’t shirk from my obligations."

"You have no obligation toward me."

"How can you say that? I am your wife."

"And I will not corrupt you further."