Sex always sounded so good in the books, but in real life, I couldn’t imagine a woman enjoying herself. It was too … horrible and boring. After the two times I’d had sex, I didn’t care for a repeat performance. I hadn’t enjoyed it.
Running fingers through my hair, I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on top.
Time ticked by.
The only passing I was aware of was the fading light in the window shining into the room. I didn’t move.
My stomach had stopped growling, and the sickness had also faded.
My marriage was already over. He was screwing someone else. Probably a whole lot of something elses. I shouldn’t care. In fact, I didn’t care.
Then why the hell did my entire core feel like it was being torn in two? It made no sense. Slavik could go and do whatever the hell he wanted. I didn’t care.
The bedroom door was pushed open, and the force had me falling forward. I caught myself before I face-planted the floor.
Slavik entered. “What the fuck is going on here?”
I’d started to notice his accent appeared more pronounced when he was angry.
“Nothing.” I got to my feet and kept my back to him.
I didn’t want him to see me like this. I had to get myself under control.
When he grabbed my arm, I yelled and told him to leave me alone, spinning around to confront him. I wanted to hit him again, but the last time I did, there was a real threat there. This man killed people with his bare hands. I wasn’t a match for him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he asked.
My hands clenched into fists. Had he been with a woman today? Had he fucked her? Had he enjoyed his time with her?
“I don’t have a problem. Just don’t touch me,” I said.
He glared and advanced toward me. I stepped back. I kept on doing this until the edge of the bed met my back and I stumbled, falling. I tried to get up, but Slavik grabbed my arms, pinning me down. “You are my wife. I will touch you if I damn well please!”
I screamed and tried to pull away.
Anger tore out of my throat, but I was no match for him. It would seem I’d never be a match for him as he held me down on the bed.
“Let me go. Get your hands off me.”
“Damn it, Aurora. Stop.”
“I don’t want you touching me with hands that have been on your whore!” I yelled each word, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me the fuck alone. I didn’t even know why I was so angry. It wasn’t like we had a normal marriage. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t like the rumors I’d heard. When I’d been given to him, I’d heard what my father had said. He hadn’t wanted to give Isabella, his precious daughter, to this man, but me, he was more than happy to. All it did was drive in deep the hurt of not being enough. I never was.
Now I wasn’t even good enough to use for sex.
I felt so … humiliated. I wasn’t good enough at anything for anyone.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked.
I cried out as he gripped me a little tighter than what I was used to. His touch had me pausing, trying to capture my breath. None of this made any sense to me. Not my anger or the sense of betrayal.
Mistresses were common in our world. I knew for a fact my father had several. My mother never made a scene.
Tears spilled down the corners of my eyes, and I closed them, hoping to stem the flow and to stop feeling like this. I hated all of this. The pain was more than I could bear.
“Aurora.”
“I know you have … women,” I said.
“You do, do you?” he asked.
With how he held my arms, I couldn’t cover my face. I couldn’t hide away, and at that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to hide.
He wouldn’t let me.
“Please, get off me. Leave me alone.” I was in control now. I didn’t yell but spoke the words calmly.
“No,” he said, and this made me open my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck that was all about.”
Why did this have to happen? I felt so embarrassed.
“Can we just forget the whole thing?”
“First, I come home and see my wife has spent most of the day here. I open the door and you were leaning against it. I try to talk to you, and you freak out.”
“I know … you have needs. I don’t want you touching me with the hands you touched her with.” I hated this woman so much. I didn’t even know who she was, but I despised her.
“You are my wife. You will do as you’re told and submit to me. You don’t get a say, and if I decide to fuck other women, then you will do what all women do and learn to live with it.”
His words shattered my being.
They struck me more than any blow could.
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, Aurora, but I don’t have the time to fuck. Ever since we’ve been married, you’re the only woman I’ve been with.” He pulled away from me.
“What?” I asked.
“You heard me.”
I rubbed at my temple, already feeling the headache start. “You haven’t been with any other woman?”
Slavik merely glared at me. “And if I was with other women, you’d deal with it.”
“So, I can take a lover as well?” I asked.
He grabbed the back of my neck with a snarl and pulled me close. “No. No other man will ever touch you. If you so much as try, I will fucking kill him. Do you understand me? You do that and you’ll be signing his death sentence.”
Slavik shoved me back, and I landed on the bed. He’d been so close, and it was crazy, but at that moment, all I could think about was the fact we’d never kissed. Not even after the priest pronounced us man and wife. He’d kissed me on the cheek. Even the lack of passion had been something to talk about on our day. People had laughed at how he couldn’t even stand to kiss me on the lips. He never had.
Touching my lips, I couldn’t believe how I felt.
I hated him, but I’d wanted him to kiss me.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Clearly, the pain and years of being neglected had gotten to me.
How could I even want to be kissed by that kind of monster? Getting to my feet, I left the bedroom. With these thoughts running around my head, the last place I wanted to be was anywhere near when he’d finished in the bathroom.
I hid in the spare bedroom and stayed there. He didn’t come to find me. For the rest of the night, I stayed in my special chair, wishing for a life that I knew would never come to me.
****
Slavik
I stood in the dance hall with my wife on my arm, and I stared around the room, checking for any possible attackers. Our enemies would be close. I wouldn’t put it past them to try to take Ivan out even while we were in a room full of civilians. Parties like these were unnecessary in my opinion. I saw no reason to mingle with the world who pretended the horrors taking place behind closed doors and in the cover of darkness didn’t occur.
Ivan needed his top six men all in one place. This was a political ploy as Roger Hampton, an up-and-coming public figure, was trying to gain popularity by threatening people like Ivan. He promised the public he’d drive out the threat and stop the flow of illegal activities. How men and women would be able to walk the streets without fear.