His dark brows furrow together and his face contorts into an unbelieving grimace. “What?”
I go on a tirade about the spiraling thoughts I just had. “And that’s precisely why you should go to the penthouse. I won’t be witness to my own broken soul. I would rather it be now before there are children involved.”
“I don’t want another woman, Sabrina. I don’t know how you got all of that in your sick, twisted mind in the span of three goddamn seconds.”
“At this point I don’t know if what you’re saying is true—” But hearing it sounds so fucking good. “You hardly look twice my way, you don’t kiss me—a ruleyouput in place, need I remind you. You fucked me while I was covered in your enemies’ blood, and then it’s like… like—” My heart cracks, and I swallow down the chunk of my heart that’s crawled up my throat, choking me. I can feel the tremors beginning, the anxiety, the anger, the guilt, the sadness. I inhale once more and then, “It’s like I extinguished myself to become the dark part of you, and now I’m unfit for you.Youplaced this crown of thorns upon my head, dear husband, and now I leavea trail of blood and diamonds in my wake… and you can't even look my way.”
“How could you even think that?”
Because you don’t touch me. Because I held it all in. I didn’t break. I did so good, and you haven’t kissed me.
But I can't say any of that because I'll sound weak. I'll sound as broken as I feel. Instead I peruse him. I look upon his bruised flesh, purple eye squinting shut, and imagine the other bruises Niko left on him. New bruises over the old ones I had tended to in Wales. New bruises he probably won't let me touch or kiss… and after everything, it's this goddamn distance between us I can't fucking stand. “Why did things at the gym with Niko get heated?”
He blinks a few times before he shrugs. But there is so much in his eyes he doesn't say, but I can feel the energy radiating off him like he's ready to burst.
I mimic his Robert De Niro frown, shrug back at him, then dip my chin in acknowledgement, huffing out a perturbed, “Right,” and continue mixing whatever the fuck it is I have in this stupid, oversized bowl. Cookies? Cake batter? I can't remember. “Just go to the penthouse, Maksim. You’ll be much happier in your solitude. It will kill me. But I would rather you be… happy… even if it means being away from me.” I’m going to die.
Maksim lets out a frustrated growl with an even more frustrated “Ergh!” right before “Because the first hit felt…bright!” His chest heaves, and his eyes are wild, like he doesn’t understand any of this himself. But I do. “It was the first time I didn’t feel this fucking—” He makes a motion with his hands from his chest to his stomach before grunting in frustration. “I don't even know what to call it!” He shoves his hands in his hair then lets them drop and swallows. “Because there’s shit that happened to me that I can't remember, but I canfeelit. I was fucking drugged up and I couldn’t talk, and I still feel it all. All the goddamn time, Sabrina!”
I feel my brows rise in surprise then knit together in contemplation. “And you thought you couldn’t come to theone personwho knows exactly what that’s like? Or is itbecauseI remember what happened to me that you think I can't empathize?”
His eyes round like it’s finally registering, but his features turn hard. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? Were you not drugged up and violated? Or am I getting it wrong somewhere? Or is it because you’re a man?” I hunch my shoulders and act like a caveman, grunting,“Me man, feelings baaaad.”
“Sabrina—”
I put a hand up and shake my head. “Go to the fucking penthouse, Maksim. You want tofeelsomething other than whatever wasdone to you by getting beaten to a pulp, fine. Go to the fucking penthouse. Go feel whatever over there.”
“You’re acting insane.”
Mother. Fucker.
I straighten my spine and put my hands back on the counter. Okay. He wants to see me insane? I’ll show him I'm insane. “Am I?! You fucked me to within an inch of my life the night after you survived. You came to me like a mirage in the snow, bloodied but triumphant. I stacked up your fucking enemies like goddamn bricks, swallowed it all down, ate and choked on every emotion like it was the most delicious cancer, and you can’t even kiss me! AND NOW, ONCE AGAIN, I’M STUCK MAKING FUCKING TREATS FOR ANOTHER GODDAMN FUNDRAISER!” I dig into the mixing bowl and throw the batter at him, feeling slightly satisfied when it lands on his face and his stupid pristine white shirt. Oh, they’re going to throw me into Lorne Wood for this. I’ve gone completely fucking bonkers.
“You want tohurt? You want to behumiliated?” I fling another helping in his direction. He tries to dodge it, but it’s all in his hair and the cupboard behind him. “You think you can’t talk tome? You don’t want tolookat me? You don’t want totouchme? You want someone else to make you feelbright?”I rasp in a heaving breath as he blurs due to the tears now falling, but I can't help it. I’m so fucking angry. “Then LEAVE!” I wipe away my tears with my clean hand trembling violently, and take another shuddering breath.
“Sabrina—”
“No!” I point at him with my batter-laden finger, chest heaving, voice cracking. “If you want someone else to take it away for you, then what good am I? Hmm? I can’t even…” I’m not good enough to help. “Get out of my house!”
It takes him three large strides to get to me but only two for his hands to wrap around my middle and for him to drag me up to his chest. His lips cover mine, torn lip budding open so I taste him and the iron in his blood. Metallic, angry, and so, so dangerous. God, my husband is delicious. My pink parts have probably turned red with how warm they’ve gotten just being touched by him again. I struggle in his hold, even though my traitorous legs wrap around his waist. He kisses me harder, his strong tongue flicking at the seam of my lips, but I don't grant him entry. “Get out of my house, Maksim!”
I slap at him when he tries to kiss me again, and the growl that reverberates in his chest is like an unhinged animal. He grows hard against my pussy, and I hold back the wanton moan that wants to escape me. “You want to take it away for me, wife?”
Yes.
“NO!”
One of his hands goes to my hair, the other rips my shirt from the neckline to my ribs. “Bugiarda—”Liar.
I am. I’m a fucking liar and burning with need for him to take it out on me.
“—I told you before that your lips can spout the prettiest lies, but this perfect body of yours can’t lie to me.” Maksim no longer tries to kiss my lips, going to my neck and swirling his tongue there to below my ear. Another sob wracks my body because I hate how much he knows me. Where to kiss, where to touch. And I hate that I love him so much I would let it drown me so he could live. I have no self-preservation when it comes to Parker or Maksim, and they know that. Iamweak… But I am only weak for them. My treasonous hips move in the slightest grind against his thick length, and I shudder, proving my husband right. “There’s my duchess. Already needy for her husband’s cock to fill her.”
“Shut up!”
“Why, are you gonna slap me again?”
