His Wife: Chapter 10

Alexius sits on the side of the bed, holding an ice pack against his cheek, when I walk out of the bathroom, tightening the towel around me. From a distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders as he slams back the last mouthful of whiskey.

I couldn’t stand seeing them fight, watching two brothers wanting to hurt each other. But, more than anything, I hated being the reason for the conflict between them.

“You’re wrong,” I say, and Alexius looks in my direction. “Isaia is not in love with me. I won’t deny that there is a connection between us, but it’s nothing more than friendship.”

“According to you, maybe.”

“I’m serious.” I walk up to him as he reaches for a cigar in his bedside drawer, lighting it. “Other than Mirabella, Isaia was the first one to show me any sort of kindness when he walked me down the aisle. He was the only one who didn’t make me feel like an outsider, not because he’s in love with me, but because he’s an outsider himself. Can’t you see that?”

A plume of smoke slowly wafts from his lips, and I step up, my knee touching his. “You and Nicoli are twins, and you share a bond, a kinship like none other. Caelian and Nicoli are together most of the time because you’re always working.” I lean my head to the side. “But Isaia, he’s always alone, drifting down these halls like a ghost, and hardly anyone notices.”

“You do. You notice.” The way he looks at me with those azure irises makes my heart skip a beat. It’s like he’s trying to figure me out. Trying to decide for himself whether what he thinks is true about Isaia’s feelings for me, and that it might be mutual. It’s not. Not even close.

“Only because for half my life I did everything I could to be invisible, to not be seen. In my world, being noticed is dangerous, and it comes with a price no woman wants to pay. But in yours, not being noticed means you’re not good enough.”

He reaches out and yanks the towel from around me, and my lips part as his eyes turn dark. “In my world, when another man desires your woman,” his warm breath against my naked hip makes me shiver, “touches her,” he slides a finger up my thigh, “or simply looks at her the wrong way,” his hand brushes against my sex, and I suppress a moan, “he dies. Whether he’s blood or not.”

“He’s your brother, Alexius.”

“And you’re my wife.”

“A wife you didn’t want. Something Isaia is very much aware of.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to want what is mine.”

“Is that what I am?” I challenge, shifting from one leg to the other, the slight movement luring his gaze down to where he’s touching me. “Yours?”

“Have you ever doubted that for a second?” He continues to stroke his finger along the crease of my sex, and I’m struggling just to keep my breathing even. “Because if you have, I clearly haven’t fucked you hard enough.”

My heart tightens, and I scrape my courage together so I can take a step back, needing to break the spell his touch has over me. “Am I your wife?” I ask, keeping my eyes pinned on his. “Or am I just like the other women at your club? A woman you can fuck whenever you want? A woman whose only purpose is to spread her legs for you when your dick is hard?”

His eyes flare, and he’s on his feet, towering over me, a magnificent force that has me fearing and desiring him at the same time. “If you were one of the women at my clubs, you’d be locked in a cage, legs spread and tied to the bars so I can look at your pussy while another sucks my cock.” He takes a threatening step closer, and I’m incapable of moving back. “If you were one of the girls at Myth, all my brothers would be there to watch me fuck and cream your pussy while they come on this pretty little face of yours.” He touches my cheek, and I inhale sharply as he drags his thumb down my lips. “If you were anything like the girls in my employment, I wouldn’t feel the need to slit my brother’s throat simply because I think he’s in love with you.”

My body is shaking, my legs trembling. His touch on my chin might be gentle, but his eyes are wild and expression savage, like he’s about to rip me apart and enjoy every second of it.

Abruptly, he grips my jaw, fingers biting painfully into my flesh, hard blue eyes letting fear tear through me. “You know what I do, our line of business. I am surrounded by naked women almost daily, women who fucking live to please us. So, I would caution you against jealousy, stray, because it’ll drive you crazy and only piss me off.”

I lift my chin underneath his grasp, anger swelling in my chest. “How can you expect something of me when you’re not even capable of doing it yourself?”

His brows furrow, and I wrap my hand around his wrist as his fingers tighten into my cheeks.

“Less than an hour ago you wanted to beat your brother to a pulp because you think he’s in love with me. You just told me you want to slit his throat,” I spit out with puckered lips. “You expect me to not be jealous when naked women surround you every day, yet when a man just looks at me in a way you don’t like, you want to spill blood.”

“Because you are mine.”

“Something no one will ever respect while everyone around here thinks I’m just a stray you picked up off the streets because your dad forced you to take a wife,” I snap. “A wife everyone knows you didn’t want in the first place. No wonder Isaia thinks it’s okay to be in love with me.” It’s a backhanded remark, but I’m too furious to care, too wrapped up in the clusterfuck of emotions wreaking havoc inside me.

His angered gaze studies me, his face so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. “I thought you said he’s not in love with you.”

“According to you and Nicoli, he is.”

“Which is why he needs to get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter,” he hisses between his teeth, his top lip curled in a snarl.

“Because I’m your wife?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Am I your wife, Alexius? Or just a way to get your rocks off? A way for you to scratch an itch?” As adrenaline floods my system, I jerk my head free from his grasp and take a step back. “Because if so, you have no right to want to hurt Isaia for wanting what’s yours. If I’m nothing more than your fuck toy, a woman whose jealousy pisses you off, then I swear to God I am not yours and never will be.”

“Oh, but you are,” he grits out. “Whether you want to admit it or not.”

“I’m not naive or stupid. I know how it works here. Women aren’t just wives, they’re possessions. They’re owned. You might think sharing a bed with me, fucking me, having me scream your name between these walls makes me yours, but you’re wrong. Because the only way you’ll ever own me is if I allow it.”

A low groan vibrates from his throat, his gaze pure chaos, and I swear his frame grows taller, his shoulders broader. “If you allow it?” There’s a cruel tenor in his voice that latches on to my spine, keeping me in place. “If you…allow it?”

I swallow hard, trying my best to keep my wits about me. “That’s what I said, and I mean it.”

“No, you don’t.” He stalks closer, forcing me back until I hit the wall and he has me trapped. “Every time you welcome me between your legs,” he cups my sex hard, “it’s proof that you’re mine. Every orgasm I give you, every time you scream my name, and every ounce of cum I pump inside you,” he slips a finger into me, and I moan, “it echoes my ownership over this tight little pussy of yours, and this perfect body that sings like a fucking mockingbird every time I touch you.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” I counter breathlessly, my rage withering as he finger fucks my defiance out of me.

“Oh, it means everything, stray.” His finger goes deeper. “See, I don’t give a fuck what my brothers or anyone else think when it comes to you and me.”

“Maybe if you did, Isaia wouldn’t have been so quick to remind us that we’ve reached the end of our agreement.”

For a second, he hesitates, stilling his finger inside me, his expression unreadable. His eyes moving along my features as if he’s seeing me for the first time has me holding my breath.

His tongue darts from his mouth, licking his lips, coating them with a tempting sheen, but he doesn’t say a word. All he does is breathe, the tension, our connection pulsing, and I can feel the lie wrap around my throat. My lie. His ownership over me isn’t something I allow. I can’t control it. But neither can he. It just is, and it’s stronger than both of us.

The tension snaps, resounding like a gunshot as our lips collide in a desperate, feverish kiss—our teeth clashing and tongues dueling.

We’re all hands, lips, tongues, and nails, scratching and clawing at each other like savages caught up in a haze of lust.

I moan in protest when he slides a finger out of me and cry out when his cock replaces the emptiness seconds later. His thrusts are deep and fast, our bodies a slapping, sweaty, blissful mess, and I forget everything. Everything but his name, which I say breathlessly as he moves his hips, slamming deeper into me every time. He grabs my ass and pulls me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist, my arms steady on his shoulders. We’re caught in a fucking frenzy as he relentlessly pounds his cock into me so hard it hurts. But the pain only makes me want it more. I’m addicted to it. To him.

“You are mine,” he growls. “You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.”

I come, and my cries hit the ceiling. “Yours.” That’s what I’m screaming out loud over and over again as my body shakes and quivers around him. “I’m yours.”

A low growl comes from his throat, and I feel his cock jerk inside me, his hot cum filling me. I whimper when he pulls out of me and sets my feet back on the ground, and I’m ready to collapse, my muscles weak and aching, but my body ignites once more when he drags his fingers through my slit, covering it with slick wetness and placing it on my lips. The scent of it turns the newly ignited flicker into a flame, and I’m moaning around his fingers when he slips it into my mouth, letting me taste his cum mixed with mine.

“Every time you challenge me, thinking you can question my claim over you, I will fuck you so hard it hurts, and I will make you taste my cum as a reminder that you allowing me to do anything is complete. Bullshit.”

He’s right. I know he is. His dominion over me is absolute, and it pisses me off…because I like it. I shouldn’t. But I do, and that’s what makes our dynamic so fucked-up and beautiful—his hunger to dominate and my need to submit even though I know my heart is on the line.

“You and I,” I start, pushing him away so I can step to the side, “we’re the kind of mindfuck that’s going to drive one of us, or both of us, crazy.”

A wicked grin tugs at his lips as he takes off his clothes, standing in front of me naked, and a goddamn king. “We’re unraveling, remember? We might as well drown in the madness while we’re at it.”

“Yeah, well, before we drown, I just want to say one thing.” I clench my jaw to keep the threatening tears at bay. “You’re a selfish asshole, Alexius Del Rossa. Because every time you remind me that I’m yours and I belong to you, you don’t stop to think for one second what you are to me. Who you are to me.”

“Then tell me. Tell me who I am to you.”

A rogue tear escapes, but I swipe at it before it can leave a bitter trail down my cheek. If I don’t say this now and acknowledge the truth, I’m afraid I’ll lose who I truly am. It’ll eat me alive, and I’ll be nothing but an empty shell.

I square my shoulders, willing my wildly beating heart to not smother the words I’ve finally found the courage to say. It’s been a long time coming, and I tried to push it all away, to ignore and hopefully smother it. But I can’t do it any longer. The lies I tell myself, they’re toxic.

“You are my husband, Alexius,” I start, my voice shaking. “And the man I’ve fallen in love with. I don’t know when it happened, or how, or why. But it happened.” Another tear trickles down my face. “I’m in love with you, and I know it’ll come at a price. I know loving you will destroy me in the end, but I can’t change it, and I’m done fighting it.” I roughly wipe at my tears with my palms and drag my hands through my hair, feeling more exposed than ever before—not because I’m naked, but because my heart is now open, lying bleeding at his feet.

Time suddenly feels wrong. Seconds are hours, and minutes seconds. Alexius doesn’t say a word. He just stares at me like he feels sorry for me. His eyes that burned with fiery fury mere minutes ago are now blue pools of…pity. Is it…pity? Sympathy?

My stomach coils as the bones in my chest break one by one. “Don’t,” I bite out while tears lap down my lips. “Don’t feel sorry for me for loving you. I did it to myself. I knew what we were from the start, and I allowed myself to fall for you anyway.” My mocking laugh ripples through the heartbreak. “See, that, I allowed. I unraveled and fucked up along the way. It’s my own fault for ending up wanting more than what’s included in our agreement. So, don’t feel sorry for me.”

Still, he just stands there. Unmoved and silent while he watches my heart bleed dry like the cold-hearted bastard I’ve always known him to be. A man who thrives on power—and I’ve just given him more of it by showing him how truly vulnerable I am.

“You know what?” I walk backward. “Isaia was right. Our marriage has served its purpose, and there’s no reason to continue the charade. It’s over, and it’s time for me to leave.” I grab a sheet off the bed, turning my back on him. But before I’m able to wrap it around myself, his hands are on my hips and he’s pulling me flush against him, stealing my breath away.

“Alexius, don’t.”

“I changed my mind,” he whispers behind me.

“Changed your mind about what?”

He places a gentle kiss just below the nape of my neck, and I shudder. “Our agreement.”

ALEXIUS

She smells like vanilla, sex, and heartbreak—the truth bleeding from her veins. And God forgive me, but I love it. I revel in her truth that’s a mere echo of my own.

I snake my arms around her waist, pulling her close and nestling my nose in her hair, wanting to breathe in her very essence. “Fuck our agreement,” I whisper.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“You made it perfectly clear from the start you didn’t want a wife.”

“I didn’t,” I confess, brushing her hair over her shoulder so I can pepper more kisses on her warm skin. “But our agreement burned to ash the moment I tore through your virginity that day in the boutique, and everything changed.” I let my hand dip down low, easing between her legs because I’m hard. I’m hard as fuck from her confession, and knowing without a doubt that she feels the way I do, I want to be inside her like it’s the very first time.

“Alexius,” she whispers my name like a prayer. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying what you’re feeling,” I roll my hips and let her feel how hard I am, “I feel it, too. I’ve felt it for so long, convinced I had gone mad.”

Her body leans back into me, my fingertip gently massaging her clit. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to tell you that our agreement no longer meant shit to me, that the thought of you leaving turned me inside out. But since we’re all about confessions today,” I bring my lips to her ear, keeping a steady rhythm on the bundle of nerves throbbing beneath my fingertip, “I wasn’t planning on letting you leave.” She sucks air through her teeth, rolling her head back. “You walking out of this house wasn’t an option for a very, very long time.”

“Jesus, Alexius.” She’s breathless and fucking beautiful.

“It’s the truth.” Another roll of my hips has my length slipping between her ass cheeks, and I groan into the nape of her neck.

“Then say it,” she whimpers with challenge, and I know exactly what it is she needs to hear.

I take her waist, turn her, and shove her on the bed, get on my knees, and settle between her legs. Raven curls flare in a beautiful mess on the silk sheets, and I watch her eyes turn to fire when she looks at my cock in my palm, hard, thick, and head swollen. Just. For. Her.

“Before I say it, you need to know.”

“Know what?”

“The consequences of us.” I let go of my cock, reach for her hips, and pull her closer so her pussy’s only inches away from me. “I’ve been raised to be a reasonable man,” I start, teasing a fingertip around her pussy lips, her breathing quickening. “I’ve been taught to think before I act. To assess and weigh every possible outcome of every single choice I make. To not let my emotions dictate my actions.” Drawing more lazy circles around her sex, she bucks, trying to get me to touch her where she needs me to. “But you have to know, Leandra, that I will never be a reasonable man when it comes to you. I won’t ever think twice to kill for you, to burn this fucking city to the ground for you.” One sleek move, and my thumb’s inside her, causing her to writhe, searching for it when I pull my finger out of her. “When it comes to you, I don’t give a fuck about the repercussions of my actions. I don’t care if I die with the blood of a thousand men on my hands, men I killed for you. Men who merely looked at you in a way that pisses me off.” Lifting slightly, I slap the head of my cock on her clit a few times, causing her to moan before tracing it down her slit, her slick heat making it hard not to penetrate. “Do not expect me to be a fair or rational man when it comes to you because you will be sorely disappointed. I will kill. I will maim. And I will destroy for you…whether you want me to or not.”

“I wish I could say I find your words disturbing,” she says, her back arching off the mattress when I nudge at her entrance. “But I can’t. If anything, it only makes me want you more, knowing what extremes you’ll go to for me.” She lifts herself on her elbows, dark hair framing her flustered cheeks. “It gives me this twisted sense of power, and I love it. Now, say it,” she demands, and there’s a sudden shift between us, her gaze feral and hunger intense.

Leaning down close, I look into her burning irises. “I’m in love with you, Leandra Del Rossa. And you are my wife in every fucking way.”