Chapter 23 – Ellie
After the car sex, I realized that my husband was more human than I thought. He wasn’t just a cold-hearted monster who derived joy in other people’s misery. It turned out that sexual desires weren’t the only emotions he could feel.
Apparently, jealousy was also on that very short list.
The look in his eyes when I praised his cousin’s appearance and behavior during the meeting was priceless. It made him uncomfortable, so jealous that he couldn’t hold back his feelings.
What he didn’t know was that I’d done it on purpose. I wanted to get a reaction out of him. And honestly, I didn’t think I was going to get one. Maybe that’s why his outburst hit differently.
The almighty Karik Tarasov fell for my act; he walked right into my trap without even realizing it. For the very first time, I saw right through him, the real him. Not the monster.
The man who was once unreadable was suddenly an open book that I could read.
How fascinating!
No matter how hard I tried to deny it, the truth was that I loved the way he pulled over and fucked me in the backseat of the car. It was spontaneous, sexy, and rather unpredictable.
His strokes, his kisses, and his touches were possessive—a deliberate act to remind me of whom I belonged to. However, beyond the jealousy that fueled his drive, there was also a hint of something I couldn’t bring myself to name.
It seemed an awful lot like fear, the kind you feel when you don’t want to lose someone. I wasn’t sure if this was what it was. But it did feel like it.
Fear or not, his jealousy already told me everything I needed to know. For starters, my husband never shared what was his. And he was capable of doing horrible things to anyone who looked at me inappropriately.
Was that protection or obsession?
Should I feel safe or concerned?
Those questions lingered on the fringes of my mind, unanswered. Maybe I already knew the answers, but I just wasn’t ready to admit them. Yet.
It had been three days since the car sex, and I still couldn’t get over it.
Whenever I was alone—and I was mostly by myself—I’d play back the scene, recalling every single detail. Our moans. Our words. The feelings that surged through me. And the way the car bounced to the rhythm of our movements.
The spanking was random, landing when I least expected it. His relentless strokes hit the right spot at the time and with just the right speed. When he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled at it, tremors sprinted down my core.
Karik knew his way around my body; he knew how to make me feel like a woman. Every time he was intimate with me, it was a whole new experience. The sex just kept getting better and better. And the more we had sex, the more connected I felt to him.
Strange.
I was beginning to really enjoy being around him. Sharing the same space with him always made me feel a certain type of way. It wasn’t just about the sex now. It was beyond that. I knew he felt it too. I was certain that he also enjoyed my company.
Yet he never asked me to move back into his bedroom. As my husband and former jailer, he could easily force me to share his bed at will. But he didn’t.
A part of me admired his respect for my decision to sleep in a separate room. But the other part secretly yearned to be called back. I’d never admit it, but it was true. If he asked, I’d oblige without hesitation.
One cool evening, in order to clear my head, I buried myself in the new cases he’d handed me days ago. These ones were the real deal—actual cases, not edited documents.
I sat at my table, studying the files, until I stumbled on one I wasn’t expecting. The Vetrov case. My eyes squinted, my head tilting slightly to the side. This was the actual, unedited file.
Karik already told me what happened: how Vetrov wasn’t the original target, blah blah blah. I should take his word for it and move on. Besides, it was a closed case.
But I couldn’t help taking a peek.
I told myself I’d only read through the first page. Then I flipped over to the next. And the next. And the next. Before I knew, I was already lost in the pages.
The more I read the report, the more I realized Karik hadn’t been completely honest about what actually happened. He’d left out an important detail, and when I discovered what it was, my face twisted into a frown.
I wasn’t sure what I felt. Anger? Pain? Disappointment?
He’d lied to me.
It shouldn’t hurt this much, especially because of the man he was. However, it did. It hurt like hell.
I grabbed the file and headed out in an instant, ready to confront him. I reached the door with a few long strides, closed it behind me, and stormed through the hallway.
He was on the phone at his desk when I barged in, my bare feet soundless against the floor. His jacket was draped over the headrest of his chair, sleeves rolled to the forearm.
Karik glanced at me as I neared his desk. “I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone like he knew what I was here for.
“We need to talk,” I said, setting the file down on his table.
He said nothing, but his eyes never left mine, his expression neutral.
All I wanted was an explanation, and I wasn’t leaving here without one.