Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Sofia
“ I think the staff has misplaced your luggage,” I whisper to Sebastian later when we sit down for dinner in a tasteful dining room of the resort. “I didn’t see your things when I went up there.”
He looks at me. “It’s not a mistake. We won’t be sharing a room.”
“Oh,” I blink at him.
“I paid for the suite with adjoining rooms, and I’ll be sleeping in the other room. I told them you like to nap in the afternoon, and I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
It isn’t like I’m looking forward to going to bed with my husband by my side, but it bothers me that he has carefully plotted to keep us separated.
“Did I do something?” I finally ask. “You haven’t?—”
“Not here, Sofia, for Christ’s sake,” he hisses at me. “Do you not know the meaning of discretion? Hell, you can go ahead and print it on the menu for the entire table.”
I duck my head in humiliation and concentrate on browsing through my menu. Everything sounds too exotic and complicated, and I know I won’t be able to keep anything down anyway. My appetite has been nonexistent for a while now, and I’m losing weight drastically.
Sighing, I raise my head from my menu and meet Nero’s eyes. If there was any hope of me taking a few bites of my meal, his presence right across from me has made that hope dwindle and die.
I’m not surprised when I end up pushing my food around the plate, each course returning to the kitchen untouched. Each time I mistakenly glance up, I meet Nero’s frown, which only darkens as the night goes on.
The only positive part of the entire night is the absence of my husband’s blonde associate.
“We’ll call it a night now,” Sebastian finally announces sometime past ten, and I’m only too glad to rise to my feet and allow him to lead me out of the dining room.
To both my relief and anguish, he walks into my bedroom after me and shuts the door. I begin to climb into the bed in preparation for an unfeeling round of lovemaking, but instead, he completely ignores me, making his way to the door separating our rooms.
My eyes widen with horror, and I jump to my feet and dash across the room, jumping in front of him to stop him from leaving. Everything inside of me is screaming at me to let him walk away, but I know that the sooner I can get pregnant, the sooner I can be left alone. Both by him and his meddling relatives.
“Going to bed so soon?” I hope my voice sounds inviting and not as panicked as I feel.
“What are you doing?” He stares at me blankly.
I take a step forward, erasing the gap between us. “Don’t go.”
“Why?”
I almost break character, but I’m encouraged by the fact that he hasn’t just pushed me aside and continued on his way. So, I press myself to him and smile.
“I’ve missed going to bed with you,” I say. “You always make me feel so good.”
And then I remember that men like their egos stroked. “You’re so big, and strong, and powerful. Don’t you want me?” Revulsion skitters through my body at my act of seduction, but I push it down and offer him a small smile instead.
His mouth curves into a smug grin, his eyes lighting up with the satisfaction of my surrender. “Really?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with self-assurance.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper as I reach for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. “I can’t wait to feel you everywhere.”
He watches me closely, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Yet you refused to even look at me when I made love to you,” he says, the word “love” twisted and cold, as if it’s a mockery of what it should be.
The very phrase sends a wave of disgust rolling through me. If that’s what he calls making love, I’d rather never touch him again. But I know what I must do—secure the family line, get pregnant, and fulfill my duty.
I swallow hard, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “I’m sorry about that night, Sebastian. I want you now. I want to please you. Make love to me.”
His eyes narrow slightly, as if gauging the sincerity of my words, but he says nothing as I push the sleeves of his shirt down his shoulders and arms, revealing the smooth, hairless chest beneath.
My fingers brush against the tattoos etched down his arms, each one a symbol of power and control, stark against his skin.
The air between us thickens, but I keep my expression neutral, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside me. This is the game I’ve been forced to play, and I will play it well, no matter how much it tears at the very core of who I am.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press my mouth to his. His hands immediately go down to squeeze my bottom, and he drags me tighter into him till I can feel his erection trapped between us.
I deepen the kiss, moving backward to the bed, and he follows after me, never breaking the kiss.
It’s my duty. My duty , I chant to myself, as I fall back into the bed, my husband’s body following me down and pressing me into the mattress. He moans low in his throat, and then his hand squeezes my breast. I let out a moan that I don’t feel at all, deliberately grinding my hips into his erection.
“Holy hell, Sofia,” he laughs. “I’m so hard. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “I’m full of surprises.”
Still laughing, he flips us over till I’m lying over him. “Go ahead and suck me off, baby. I don’t want to come too fast when I’m inside you, so you’re going to have to take the edge off for me.”
A blowjob is something that I haven’t yet had to do in my marriage, and I’ve been thankful for it. I really dug this pit for myself.
“I don’t think I can?—”
“Come on. Don’t start what you can’t finish, baby. Take off my pants.”
Fixing a smile on my face, I move my hands up his thighs and then undo his belt. The button of his pants is next, and then I slide down the zipper.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans.
Giggling softly, I start to drag down his pants and briefs, trying to keep up the pretense. As I shift my weight to reposition my knee, it accidentally digs into his crotch. A howl of pain tears through the air, and before I can react, the back of his hand smacks into the side of my face, sending me flying off his body.
My head slams against the wooden edge of the bed, and I collapse onto the floor, a sharp pain radiating through my skull. He doesn’t even notice that his push has hurt me; his focus is consumed by his own rage.
“Are you trying to land me in the hospital?!” he roars, jumping off the bed, “I should have known it was too good to be true.”
I curl up on the floor, cupping the side of my head where it feels like my skull is on fire. My vision starts to go a little blurry, and I don’t hear the rest of what Sebastian is screaming.
I blink back the tears of pain that threaten to fill my eyes. Willing myself not to cry, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing my weakness. But the pain is overwhelming, and all I can do is focus on breathing, on surviving the moment until it passes.
Moments later, I hear the door connecting our rooms bang shut, loud enough to rattle my brain. I sit there for what feels like an eternity, wondering when fate will finally decide to give me a break.
Finally, I crawl to my feet and stagger out of the room. I don’t have a destination in mind, I just want to walk till I’m as far as possible from all of this. I can’t escape from this, I’m not stupid enough to think I can, but I just want to feel the illusion of freedom.
I’m relieved when I don’t see anyone on my way out of the house. I walk towards the beach at the edge of the resort. The night is cold, but I don’t feel it. I’m numb all over.
I walk along the edge of the ocean, and finally I come up on a boardwalk extending into the water, and I step onto it. When I glance into the distance, I spot a broad-shouldered frame up ahead.
I know who it is immediately, and a bitter laugh slips out of my mouth. Is this some kind of sick twist of fate? Everywhere I turn, I see Nero. He’s both the last person and the only one I want to see at this moment, and I find myself heading toward him.
He turns around to face me when I get close. It’s too dark to see his face clearly, but the effect of his dark eyes still makes licks of fire sweep up my skin.
“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re stalking me, Princess.”
I swipe my tongue over my dry lips and wrap my arms around my body, shivering in my thin dress. “Why would I stalk you? You’re the one who’s intruded into my life.”
“Intruded.” He tests the word against his tongue, sounding amused.
“You’re everywhere,” I accuse. “Why can’t I get a break? Why can’t I get a damned break?”
“What do you need a break from?”
“Everything!” I roar, the sound disappearing into the night, “I’m sick of—” I snap my mouth shut, shaking with repressed feelings. “Never mind. I can’t believe you have a cat.”
There’s a second where I think he’ll call me out on my sudden change of topic and press me to let the acidic truth out before it melts and ruins my insides. I’m both disappointed and relieved when he doesn’t.
“He’s not my cat.”
I glance at him, wishing there was some light for me to see him. I feel like a prey in the dark with a predator. “Whose cat is it?”
“I don’t think he has an owner. He’s a stray that just kept on returning.”
I chuckle. “Did you feed him, Nero? Animals only return when they’re being fed.”
“Should I have let him starve?” He sounds annoyed, and I can’t help but laugh. It flows from my stomach and spills out of my throat freely. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve laughed so hard.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze. “So, there’s a big softie beneath all that muscle and tough exterior. You do know that the cat’s yours now, right?”
“No, he’s not,” he scoffs. “He’s a stray.”
“That you’ve adopted. You put him in a pet carrier and rode with him on your bike,” I point out. “I don’t know where you’ve lived all these years, but around here, that’s the definition of adopting a cat. I can’t believe you’re a cat dad.”
“Never call me that again.”
I smile. “What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have one.”
“He looks like an Alfred,” I say thoughtfully.
He scoffs. “That’s a ridiculous name for a cat. It’s a good thing you don’t have one. And I’m not naming the damn cat. He’s just going to go back to the streets anytime soon.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because all of your protest isn’t working for you. So, you may as well just give it up and admit that he’s your pet,” I shrug. “Or is a big, terrifying man like you too shy to admit he has a cute little kitty? You know, there’s this whole war between cat people and dog people, but I think it’s all stupid. I’m an animal person.”
“You can take him if you want, the cat. He’s a moody, judgmental asshole anyways, and you’ll probably chuck him out the nearest window within a week.”
I cock my head. “He must not be that bad if you haven’t murdered him yet. You don’t strike me as the kind of person who has a lot of patience for naughty kitties.”
“You don’t know me, Sofia.”
I shiver, and this time it has nothing to do with the cold. “That’s because you won’t let me. Each time I feel like I’ve taken one step towards the line you’ve drawn on the sand, you wash it off and redraw it steps away. What’s your problem?”
“Have you ever thought that maybe there’s a reason I don’t want you crossing that line? Maybe I’m saving you from your own self?”
“I can believe a lot of things about you, but I know you’re far from a selfless saint,” I snort. “You may think I’m stupid?—”
“Anybody who thinks you’re stupid is the biggest idiot on the face of this Earth.”
I go still. Staring at the dark shadow that is him. He may not have meant it as such, but to me it’s the biggest compliment I’ve ever received, which is actually quite pitiful, come to think of it.
“And you’re right, I’m not a selfless saint. Far from it,” he steps closer, so close that I can feel the heat from his body. My body sways toward the warmth and I manage to keep myself rooted in place by sheer force of will.
“Then what are you?”
The single bulb swaying from a pole at the end of the boardwalk suddenly flickers, and yellow light washes over us for a second. But it’s long enough for me to see Nero’s midnight dark eyes shift to the side of my face.
“What the hell did he do to you?” His voice is low, but every word drips with cold fury.