16. Devina
He’s a liar. Most men are. I shouldn’t be surprised.
I pick up my book and head back to my bed. I’m nearly settled in when the first bang strikes my door.
So dramatic.Like he is really going to -
Oh no.
He did.
He kicked my fucking door in!
Shards of wood scatter around his feet as the heavy door swings back and hits the wall. Our eyes meet across the room both of us angry, neither of us willing to back down, until his gaze travels south and I realize I’m in a nightgown. I’ve been betrayed by a strappy satin fabric that does nothing to hide the scars I try so hard to forget.
Suddenly, my anger is replaced with shame and I reach for a pillow to shield myself.
“Get out of my room you caveman!” I yell, but he doesn’t seem to hear me because he slowly walks toward me with his hands slightly raised. Like he’s about to snatch up a rabid animal. Maybe I am one. Maybe I should attack and claw his fucking eyes out.
My vision blurs with tears and I toss my book at him, missing. The afternoon light does nothing to help hide me. I feel naked. Vulnerable. Ugly.
“Not what you expected, Mr. Totaro?” My words shoot daggers at him but he walks through them unphased, “Are you mad you got stuck with a defective model?” I strike again, but his steps only quicken until he is at my side reaching for the pillow I’m now clinging to.
I need his anger. I need something to snap me back. I close my eyes praying that when they open, this will all have been a bad dream. He’s pulling the pillow that I refuse to let go of and before I know it, I’m falling off the bed.
He catches me right before we both crash to the floor. “Devina, look at me.” His voice is calm and gentle.
I shake my head. “No. You need to leave now.” I say through gritted teeth as I wrap my arms around my stomach and wait for him to go. As if that could hold back the tears that are now flowing freely against my will.
He pets my hair away from my face before bringing his gentle touch to my cheek, cupping my face in his hands. Tilting my face to his, he speaks in a low demanding voice, “Sparrow, look at me.”
I force myself to look at him, prepared to see pity and disgust. Instead, I am met with a heated lustful gaze. We feel frozen in time. My desire to hate him is quickly being overpowered by a new desire to melt into the hands that are holding me with such care. I can see his reservation. The dark eyes that are peering into my soul are telling me he is calculating his next move, at war deciding what to do next.
His hands release me momentarily, but only to fall to my hips and pull me on his lap to straddle him. A hand moves up my back drawing me closer to him. A switch flips internally. I can feel it in him. He extinguishes whatever was holding him back and a dangerous smirk emerges. That fucking smirk.
“Fuck,” He growls, and I know.
I know I can’t hate him.
I’ve lost. . . but apparently, so has he.
His mouth crashes to mine and against my better judgment, because that version of me has taken a sick day, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
He wraps his large arms around my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin, and I instinctively lock my ankles around his waist as he stands. We fit perfectly. A puzzle snapped together.
The heat from our kiss has traveled down to my core and I can feel it has the same effect on him. He turns to walk out of the room, and I break our kiss.
“Where are you taking me?” I manage to say as he sprinkles kisses along my neck.
“You are my wife. My little sparrow. This is your house and this…” he kicks a door open to walk inside, “is our room – your room. When I make love to you for the first time, it will be our bed.” He kicks the door closed and walks me to the bed before gently placing me down on the satin covers.
I cringe as his fingers draw a line down my arms and his fingers gently caress the scar from my elbow to my wrist.
“Don’t do that.” His words are harsh, but his eyes never leave mine. “Don’t ever do that Devina.”
“Do what?” I blink, breaking our connection and pushing myself further up the mattress to put space between us.
A fire ignites in him. He becomes a predator as he slowly follows me, crawling until his body hovers over mine and I’m captured between the weight of him and the strength of his arms that now rest on either side of my head.
“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he says through lips that are now hovering over mine. “You can hide yourself from the world, but when I said my vows, you became my world. A world I intend to explore until every inch has been discovered. Is that alright with you, my beautiful bird?”
I had no rebuttal. No one has ever made me feel wanted. Not that I dare give anyone the opportunity. He demands all of me, but I am no longer my own to give. I’ve already been conquered by death but all I can think of when his hungry stare is seeping into my soul is that I choose to celebrate life.
“Y-yes,” I invite him to take me.