Chapter 18
Bella
“I’m sorry,” I sniffle. Kaiser’s quick to move, releasing the ropes that bind my arms behind me. As soon as my hands are free, I swipe at my face, feeling frantic.
What guy wants to watch their sex partner fall apart?
I try to clench my teeth, get myself back together, but the water is rising. The more I fight it, the more it pulls me under.
“Shit.” Ugh, I’m a mess. I don’t want this. I try to climb off him, but he stops me.
“It’s okay.” Kaiser’s soft breath hits my face. His hand comes to the back of my neck, squeezing in that way he does. Grounding me.
It’s too much compassion.
I twist, turning away as much as I can while sitting on him. My sex and nipples ache, but that’s not why I’m crying. I shake my head so my hair covers my face. The locks soak up the salt water.
“Shhh, don’t hide from me.” He strokes the wet strands away from my face. “I want your tears.”
It’s so surprising, I open my eyes to his stormy eyes inches from mine.
“It’s okay,” he says again, kneading my tense muscles. “This is a release.”
“It’s too much,” I whisper.
“No.” He grips the back of my neck and presses his forehead against mine. “I want it all.”
I gasp. The sobs are coming, surging. Hecate, help me, I can’t breathe.
I’m caught in the wave, drowning. Dragged along, ground against the ocean floor.
He presses me against him, holding me as I cry until I heave. He’s not leaving, he’s getting closer, I realize when my thoughts surface again. He’s not afraid.
I go back under. Emotion grips my throat until I can’t breathe. I shake against him but not for long.
And then it’s gone as if it’s never been. Leaving me with the wreckage.
Kaiser is still here, petting me.
I feel empty.
“Better?” he asks.
I lick my lips. The tsunami came. It surged through me and left me gasping in the wreckage, but now it’s gone. I feel empty. It’s a welcome feeling.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He’s still rubbing my neck and shoulders. Squeezing hard the way I like. It feels good, a sensation to fill the space the sadness left.
“I don’t usually cry like that.”
“Maybe you should.”
I shake my head. I don’t like to cry. I cried a lot after my mom died and my dad explained she wasn’t coming back.
I had intense, stormy tantrums, screaming for her, and my dad didn’t know how to handle them.
He’d shut down, and my tears only sent him away.
I remember him closing the door, shutting me in my room alone.
I screamed “Mama” until I passed out on the floor.
Eventually, he hired a stern nanny who told me I needed to be good. I learned that Mama wasn’t coming and needed to keep the tears to myself.
Kaiser is still stroking my hair. I can’t look him in the eye.
“I’m a lot to take,” I say.
“I can take it.” He means it, I know this. He’s not running out of the room. He didn’t let me run away, either. Maybe he really does want it all. “Your father upset you.”
I press my lips together. My father can’t get through a family dinner without expressing his disapproval of me. I’ve gotten better at keeping my cool, letting his words roll off me, but today…
He’s leaving me alone. Locking me in this marriage. Now that I think of it, he’s probably been counting down the days until I was eighteen to do this. Marry me off, make me someone else’s problem.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“You don’t know him like I do.” If I could turn myself into a doll—pretty, pliant, quiet, and obedient—my father would be thrilled. I’d finally get his approval.
“He’s too hard on you.” Kaiser frowns.
It’s nice that he cares.
“He has high standards.”
“He should be proud of you.”
“You should tell him that,” I tease, smiling at the ridiculous thought of Kaiser storming into my father’s office to dress him down. The mafia man defending me to my own father.
“I will.”
Oh no. His muscles tense under me, like he’s about to hunt him down right now.
He’s serious. “No, don’t. Don’t say anything, please,” I beg, horrified that he would actually do it.
“Promise me.” I lift my hands to his face, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me from touching him.
He moves so fast, I didn’t see his hands. I freeze.
He doesn’t like to be touched. I knew this.
But he relaxes and brings my fingers closer until they brush over his jaw. His lips. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. I stretch my fingers, touching as much as I can, greedy to feel the shape of his perfect cheekbones, the prickle of his stubble on my fingertips.
For a second, I forget what I was saying. Then I remember that I need to keep him away from my father.
“He says I have to get married to you,” I say. “That’s what we argued about.” Reminding him that he and I are on opposite sides of that argument.
“He should still be kinder to you.”
“You can’t confront him just for hurting my feelings.” That won’t end well. “Don’t hurt my father. Promise me.”
But he can’t promise. Because if Fraternitas gives him the order, then my father is dead. And probably so am I, for that matter.
Kaiser isn’t a comfort. He’s a sword hanging over us. Nothing more. And here I am, crying on his shoulder. Some supervillain I’m turning out to be.
It’s all part of my master plan, I tell myself. I wanted to get him to let his guard down.
But I don’t feel very clever or powerful. I feel weak and miserable.
“I’m cold,” I say, even though I’m just numb. I rub my arms to sell it, but when he studies me with those too-wise eyes, I don’t think I’m really hiding anything.
Kaiser
When Bella started crying, I wanted to destroy things. I knew she was overstimulated, that the tears leaking down her cheeks were a release.
But I still wanted to hurt someone for doing this to her. Her father.
She looks at me with real fear that I might storm out of here and shake him down. Because of course she’s afraid of that. I’m the bad guy.
And I’m the reason she’s crying. The scene was intense. I lost control of the predator in me and wanted to punish her for the way she drives me to obsess over her. For the way my skin has been tingling nonstop in her presence.
Bella is my responsibility now. She’s not in control; I am. I need to take care of her because she thinks she has no limits. I need to set the boundaries that she won’t.
Usually, I love the sight of a fucktoy’s tears, but not these. My cock is hard because I’m with her, but I have no desire to fuck her right now. Pain slices through me. It feels like someone slashed me with a knife, but it hurts much worse. I know it’s all in my head, but it doesn’t help.
I want to stab myself for hurting her. It’s a strange feeling, all my violence turning inward. How can someone so small have such power over me?
“Let’s go to bed,” I say, and she sighs, curling into me. She’s still in the harness, but she doesn’t seem to notice it.
I find her wrists and rub the red marks there. I’m a piece of shit. I kiss each fingertip. “You did well tonight. You’re good, so good for me.”
She huffs like she doesn’t believe me.
“You are. It’s my fault it got too intense. I pushed too hard and got carried away.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did. But you did so good for me.”
“Really?” She sounds so lost, it’s breaking my heart. I rub her back.
“Really. And it’s okay to cry. It’s a release.”
She sniffles. I ease her up and unwind the rope harness.
I massage her marked skin for a moment and lie back so I can pull her over me.
She sighs, settling her weight on me. I can’t feel anything, my skin is still weirdly numb like I’m wearing a layer of armor or latex, but the weight of her body is perfection.
I love how she curls into me, pressing her face into my chest. It’s as close to heaven as I’ll ever be.
My dick is poking into her, but I ignore it. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. I run a hand up her back, finding the rope patterns and rubbing to smooth them out.
“It was intense,” she admits.
I stroke her hair, encouraging her to talk. Sometimes I mute her so she gets out of her own head. But right now she needs to process.
It was intense. Too intense. I need to remember she’s still new to all this. But she’s so eager to learn.
“You had a long day.” Our first full day together. The first of many.
She wipes her eyes one last time and finally meets my gaze. Her eyes are red, but she looks so innocent, and I want to kiss her mouth.
I brush back her hair instead. The platinum color illuminates her face. She doesn’t dye her eyebrows, and the contrast between them and the white blonde at her hairline is stunning. It calls attention to her dark eyes.
So much emotion. So much expression. I can read her moods; they’re fast and changeable. Intense like storms.
And never boring. I could study her forever and not get tired of it.
She lets her head drop, going limp against me. I love moments like this, when she’s calm in that way she gets when she comes. I feel like a hero, even though I know I’m the monster in her story.
“Father Francis told me you have questions about me.” Open up, earn her trust.
Her lip quirks in a half-frown. She’s learning that the priest didn’t keep her confidence and that he’s loyal to Fraternitas.
“He said you grew up on the streets. With your twin brother.”
I nod.
“Is that why you trained as a fighter? To escape?”
“I didn’t want to be a fighter. Fighting was the only way to survive. And I ended up being good at it. I had to be.”
“When did you start?”
Memories swirl in my mind. Leviathans in the deep. “Thirteen.”
“No way,” she gasps. “That’s so young.”
I don’t say anything; I’m lost in shadowy memories.
Running away with my brother, living on the streets.
Finding the underground tunnels where it was warm enough for us to survive the winter.
Father Francis feeding us, teaching us. After a few years of that, Jaeger wanted to move into the dorm, but I refused.
I was the reason we were hanging around the street fights long enough for Maestro to notice us.
I wanted to find a way off the streets without Father Francis’ help. I didn’t trust him.
It was almost our downfall.
“Hey,” she says, her hand hovering close to my face, ready to touch me to bring me back. “You survived.”
Barely, but I don’t tell her that. I’m not ready to share that much with her.
I stroke the side of her neck. It’s red from where my stubble scraped her, the bristles harsh on her skin. I should be sorry that I rubbed her raw.
I’m not sorry. I want to leave my mark on her. But I am sorry that she’s so upset. That I’m the brute she has to marry.
But maybe I can be good for her. Be what she needs.
Today, her father was cruel to her. Argos sent me a recording of their call that I listened to after I sent Bella to the bedroom.
He didn’t say anything I haven’t thought of myself, but the way he said it…
I could kill the Poisoner for the way he spoke to her.
But killing my future father-in-law is not the solution. Killing is all I’m good at, but for her, I can be better.
She needs care and protection. Someone in her corner. A champion.
I want to be that for her. A rock in the storm. A fortress.
A husband who doesn’t let anyone fuck with his wife.
I shift her to the side so she’s lying in the crook of my arm.
She yawns, her eyes fluttering. “I’m so tired.”
“Sleep.” I tug the blanket free so I can cover her with it.
She hums and looks down at my crotch. “What about you?” She’s wondering whether I need to come. My cock strains painfully under her attention.
I ignore it and brush a kiss on her brow. I imagine taking her hand, guiding it to touch my cock. I wouldn’t feel much from her touch, but the pressure would still feel amazing. A few strokes and I’d come all over both of us.
I file the fantasy away for later. I don’t let anyone touch me. Bella’s different, yes, but I still can’t let her touch me. She’s dangerous enough as it is.
I’ll wait until she’s passed out and jack off in the bathroom. Possibly a couple of times. I’ll have to, or I’ll be awake all night. “I’m fine. Go to sleep.”
I lie next to her a long time after her eyes close, just watching her sleep.