I come with a low, guttural curse, body lurching as I spill hard against my palm and the tile below. The release is sharp, a hot, desperate thing pulled from the base of my spine.
I sag forward, forehead pressed to the wall.
And I don’t feel relieved. The immediate pressure is gone, but the hunger’s still there, worse than before.
I rinse off, wrap a towel around my waist, and stand in front of the mirror for a long time.
She’s in my bed. My wife.Mine.
And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to be to keep my hands to myself.
Once I’m back in the bedroom, I stand still for a while, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness again. Sima has barely moved, still half-naked from where my shirt has ridden up, sheets kicked to kingdom come.
I slide into bed, careful not to disturb her.
I keep to my side. Leave a wide gap between us.
It’s strange, having someone here. In my bed, with me. Not just for the purpose of sleeping together—as in, have sex—butliterallysleeping together. Letting people into my space like this, without an agenda? That’s different.
I’ve never done that. I don’t bring women here. Hell, I don’t even bring them to my place in the city. I certainly would never bring them to this house, with all the history tied to it. With the other people living inside it and the harrowing thing they’re facing.
I don’t like strings. Expectations. Letting myself grow soft. But here I am, literally sleeping with the enemy.
And the part that keeps circling in my head is how easily Sima slipped under my skin. It all felt so fucking natural.
What would she do if she knew the truth? That I recognized her from the start? That, even now, I’m weighing how to bestput her to use? Not just to get an heir, but to bring her own family on their fucking knees?
I wonder if she’d scream. If she’d run. If I’d wake up to a knife at my throat.
If I’d wake up at all.
As if on cue, she shifts in her sleep, rolling closer. Her thigh brushes mine. Warm, bare. Her breath puffs softly against my shoulder. Her scent sinks into me, citrus and vanilla and my own woodsy body lotion.
Blyat’.
Looks like I won’t be getting any sleep tonight after all.
17
SIMA
I wake up warm.
My eyes open to dim light bleeding around the curtains and the heavy weight of an arm slung over my waist. For a second, I can’t remember where I am. The sheets are too soft, the mattress too plush.
This isn’t my bed. This isn’t my apartment. And the creature spooning me from behind is definitely not the neighbor’s nosy cat.
Then everything clicks into place.
Oh.
Right.
I’m married now.
My breath hitches as I shift slightly, trying to ease out from under Petyr’s arm without waking him. But his grip tightens immediately, forearm locking around my stomach, pulling me back into the hard line of his body.Veryhard, unless hecame to bed packing firearms. My eyes go wide as I feel his perhaps-a-handgun pressed against the curve of my ass.
Nope. Not a handgun. Definitely a rifle at least.
