Chapter Six
The following morning, Carver was nowhere to be seen.
Morgan had slept the whole night in his bed, which for some reason was a little more comfortable than her own bed. It was probably in her head, and they both were just as comfortable. Only, this bed had Carver in it.
She slept beside him for most of the night, or until he left. Morgan wasn’t sure what time he had left. She couldn’t recall feeling the bed move as he left. The man was all stealth. Sitting up, she looked toward his side and frowned as she was pretty sure he’d made his side of the bed.
That orgasm had been amazing last night, and he’d given her three of them. All the time using his tongue. But, as much as she enjoyed him playing with her body, she also knew he’d not reached an orgasm. They hadn’t consummated their marriage.
Staring down at her hands, she couldn’t help but finger one of the rings. This was a marriage in name only right now. She didn’t know why it mattered so much to her. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled, knowing this was crazy. Most of the women she knew that were due to be married were filled with fear and hatred for their husbands. Sex was something forced on them. Mistresses were what most married women hoped for.
She pressed her hands to her face, because the thought of another woman touching Carver didn’t fill her with relief. No, it filled her with anger.
Throwing the blanket off her body, she saw several doors in Carver’s room, and she decided to go for the one next to his closet. She only knew it was a closet because the door was still open. Finding the en-suite bathroom, she used the toilet, washed her hands, and tried to avoid staring at her reflection. She was still naked, but there was no point in avoiding it, so she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Morgan wondered if she would see any signs of last night, but there were none. His lips had been a little rough last night with a day’s growth of stubble. There were no red marks, no signs of him touching her.
Again, she released another breath, and there was no way she was going to walk from this room to her own room. With the closet door open, she stepped inside, finding a shirt, along with a pair of sweatpants, and she pulled them on. The moment she did, she smelled like Carver. She couldn’t help but feel safe, and the scent of them reminded her of him. Did this make her crazy? Wanting Carver? Finding him addictive? Wanting to be with him as a wife?
She liked him. Maybe it was crazy, but she would put it down to the crazy upbringing she experienced. No one in their right mind would be comforted by The Beast, right?
Shaking off her thoughts, she left the bedroom, and rather than get changed, she decided to head straight to the dining room. She was hungry. Also, she didn’t want to remove Carver’s clothes. They were comfortable and of course they did smell like him. Stepping into the dining room, she found it was empty, and now she was a little more disappointed.
The food no longer looked appealing, but she wasn’t going to starve herself. She wondered where Carver was and what he was doing. She hoped he was safe. She picked up some toast, a few slices of avocado, and took a bite. She wasn’t interested in the bacon or sausages, or even eggs today.
“Good morning. Would you like some coffee?” Andy said, stepping into the dining room.
“Coffee? Where’s Carver?” she asked.
“He had to attend to some business. Now, would you like some coffee?”
She looked at her plate and then nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
He nodded like he always did, and then left.
She took another bite of her toast. Carver had to leave. She didn’t mind that he had business to handle, but why couldn’t he have woken her up? She could have at least kissed him before he left.
Get over yourself. He is not your … love.
She stopped chewing. Did she love Carver? There was no way of knowing. This was insane for her to even think about.
Andy came back, carrying a mug of coffee. The smell was incredible. He placed it down in front of her, and he had this smile on his face.
“What is it?” she asked, not knowing if she wanted the answer or not.
“Carver was in a very good mood this morning.”
And now, she wasn’t in a good mood.
“Would you like to tell me what is bothering you?” he asked, moving to take a seat beside her.
She noticed he didn’t sit in Carver’s seat, which she was happy with. That was her husband’s seat.
“It’s nothing.”
“It is bothering you, so it cannot be nothing.”
Now she felt silly.
“I … why did Carver marry me?” she asked, trying to find another topic to talk about.
“I believe that is something you’re going to have to talk to Carver about.”
She nodded.
“Is that it?” he asked.
“I … why doesn’t he wake me up, or allow me to see him out, or anything like that?” she asked, going against her better judgment.
This was stupid of her. She knew this. Carver had more important things to be dealing with than an immature wife.
“Why don’t you ask Carver yourself?” Andy said, and got to his feet.
She sat back in the chair, folding her arms across her chest, and feeling every part the spoiled child. This is not what she wanted. These were not answers. She pursed her lips, and she wasn’t happy about any of this.
The coffee sat in front of her, the steam rising from the surface, and she reached for it, blowing across the top, then leaned in and took a sip. She closed her eyes and let out a soft, subtle moan. It tasted so good.
She finished her morning coffee, ate a few more pieces of sausage and bacon. This time, she didn’t go for the game room. Morgan decided to take a walk in the garden, and she stepped out to the garden without bringing a towel to clean her feet. She removed her shoes, and there had been rainfall the night before. The whole ground was wet, looking a little soggy. She stepped onto the grass and felt it slip between her toes. This didn’t upset or offend her, but in fact, made her smile. Back at home, when her parents were still alive, she would be panicking, but Carver told her not to behave like that.
It felt good to step. At first, that was all she did do, but then she couldn’t help but attempt to run, and as she did so, she slid down on her ass, slipping in the mud. This made her burst out laughing. Shoving her hands into the soggy earth beneath her, she lifted herself up and ran some more, loving the freeing feeling so much. She didn’t want it to stop. She slipped on her ass several times, and on the fifth, she laid in the mud, knowing she was going to need a bath.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
Morgan opened her eyes to find Carver leaning over. “I am.”
“You’re dirty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You told me I didn’t need to worry about that.”
“That was before I realized you liked playing in dirt.”
“I don’t like playing in dirt, but I have had fun today, thank you for asking.”
He held out his hand, but she didn’t take it.
“You’re upset?”
“You left,” she said.
“And?”
She growled in frustration. “Why are you always leaving?” she asked.
“My work doesn’t keep a timetable.”
She growled in frustration. She didn’t take the hand he offered, but she got to her feet and blew out a breath. “I don’t like it,” she said.
“What? My work?”
“No, uh, that you leave without giving me a chance to say goodbye.” Even to her own ears it sounded so crazy.
“You want to say goodbye to me?”
“Yes, so I know that you’ve gone, and that … I don’t know … that you are coming back.”
Carver took a step toward her then another one. “Do you think I’m not coming back?”
“A lot of people want you dead.”
“And it has been that way for a long time.”
“But it doesn’t make it right and I don’t want to…”
“Don’t want to what?” he asked.
“Lose you,” she said. “I kind of like you, Carver.”
He finally closed the distance between them, and she let out a gasp as he picked her up as if she weighed nothing.
“You’re filthy,” he said.
He didn’t say another word. He didn’t suggest that he’d change that. Carver carried her back to the house, and he took her straight to his en-suite bathroom. But, he didn’t put her in the shower. Instead, he lowered her into the tub and used the showerhead attached to the bathtub to start washing her off.
She let out a gasp, as he also removed the clothes she wore. There was mud everywhere. She might have gotten herself a little muddier than she anticipated.
****
Carver was tempted to leave her, to go and get them both a drink of hot chocolate, or coffee. After stripping her completely naked and removing the dirt, he had to clean the tub before filling it with warm, hot, soapy bubbles.
Morgan was now back in the bathtub, somewhat clean. Her cheeks were a nice rosy red, and the flush to her body was so damn inviting.
He decided to leave the drinks. They could drink later. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the water at the opposite end to join her. She didn’t protest. She rested her head on her hand and stared at him. It was more of a glare, but he could deal with her annoyance as he found it cute.
“You know, you didn’t answer me,” she said.
He loved that she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. To anyone else, he would assume they had a death wish. With Morgan, he knew it was because she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t want his wife to be afraid of him. There was no fun in having her fear him.
“What answer are you looking for?” he asked.
“Will you let me know when you have to leave?” she asked.
“I do not need you to offer me goodbye.”
“But I want to,” she said. “Look, I know it’s corny but it is what normal wives do for their husbands, and it is what I would like to do for you.” She sighed. “Forget about it.”
He looked at her, curious. “You want to be a normal wife?”
“I know that is not going to happen. There is nothing about this that is normal. The groom doesn’t kill the bride’s family after the wedding.”
“I doubt the groom has to take care of his very sick and delusional wife immediately after the wedding either,” he said.
She nodded.
“It doesn’t mean we can’t have a normal … everything else. I know that is a stretch.” She sighed. “Forget I ever said anything.”
Carver liked her. Her family hadn’t destroyed that fire in her eyes.
“Come here,” he said.
She glanced over at him, and he saw the battle within her. She wanted to tell him hell no, but at the same time, she wanted to move closer to him. He saw the battle, and waited.
She moved through the water, and he helped her to straddle his waist. His cock was hard as rock. Last night had been a true challenge of his restraint, because all he’d wanted to do was bend her over the nearest surface and take her hard and fast.
The first time was not going to be easy, and he planned on taking that sweet cherry all for himself.
Cupping her cheek, he pulled her down toward him and kissed her lips. He heard her soft, subtle moan, and he swallowed down the sound.
“I will do as you ask,” he said.
He didn’t know how she would be able to handle it, but they had to try.
She put her hands on his cheek. She touched his scar and didn’t jerk back. “Thank you,” she said.
This was new for him. He’d never had a woman want his company for longer than what she could get out of him. Staring into Morgan’s eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder what made her tick.
“Why are you not afraid?” he asked.
“I am afraid,” she said, startling him.
This made more sense to him.
“What have I done to make you afraid of me?”
She frowned. “You think I’m afraid of you?”
“What else do you have to be afraid of?”
“The whole world. There is nothing you can do or say that is going to change the way the world is. It’s a horrible place, even outside of what my family did, of what Romone does. It’s still full of mean people, bullies, nothing is going to change that.”
“I scare you?” he asked.
“No, you don’t. You’re the only thing right now that makes sense to me, and I know that is insane because of your reputation, but you don’t scare me. I feel safe when I’m with you.”
Much to his surprise, she leaned in close and pressed her lips against his. It was such a soft touch. At first, he didn’t react because the truth was, he didn’t know how. He was used to people fearing him, and he loved it. Not that he took a long time to think about it, but he liked that people moved out of his way. Even before the scars on his face.
“How did you get these?” she asked, stroking the scars down his face.
“The same way you got these,” he said, stroking the ones he’d discovered on her back when he’d been taking care of her.
The moment he had seen them, he’d known they had come from a belt—her father’s belt—or something with metal. The anger he’d not been able to control. The very thought of anyone hurting her and enjoying themselves had filled him with a rage he’d never known.
Carver had felt anger. He rarely killed when he felt that way, as to him, that made for sloppy work, and he took pride in his work.
So, he had no choice but to wait, to allow himself to calm down, and as he did, he took care of Morgan. Even sick, she’d been nothing short of a lady. So sweet, lovely, and kind. It angered him to think of what other people had done to her. The fear she must have felt.
“They were gotten because I didn’t follow direct orders. I made a mess on the hallway carpet. Did you know sometimes my brother stole my towel just so I would get into trouble?”
“He sounds like an evil fucker to me,” Carver said.
She laughed. “Trust me, he was. He loved beating up women. He asked Dad if he could help all the new arrivals to adjust. I never saw a woman leave his company smiling. They were always crying, limping, in tears. The fear in their eyes palpable.”
“He won’t harm anyone.” He’d taken care of the brother. He’d dealt with them all. None of them had been laughing when he arrived.
There was silence and he stared at her, expecting to see fear or anger, or remorse. He didn’t detect any of that, and he frowned, waiting for her to tell him she hated him, that he shouldn’t have done that to her family.
Nothing.
“How did you get yours?” she asked.
“A fight gone bad,” Carver said.
“How did you become The Beast?”
He reached out and pushed some of her hair off her shoulder. “I fought hard. I’ve killed a lot of people, Morgan, and that number will keep getting bigger.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“Yes. It keeps people like Romone and your family in check.”
She frowned. “It doesn’t stop them from doing what they do.”
“True, but if they didn’t do it, others would. Like you said, the world is an evil place and full of evil people.”
She nodded.
“But have faith, for every evil person, I believe there is someone out there who is here to make the world a better place,” he said.
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes, there’s me, and then there’s you,” he said.
“I don’t make the world a better place.”
“Trust me, Morgan, you do make this world a better place.” If it hadn’t been for her, her family would still be out there hurting people. It was because of her that he killed them. It wouldn’t be long before Romone had someone else handling the trafficked women. There was too much money in it for him to give up that business easily.
Just thinking about Romone, he knew he was going to have to come up with a plan to deal with him. He had thought about attacking his businesses, but that didn’t seem his style, and besides, there was no fun in that. So, for now, he’d opted to wait.
Romone would expect retaliation, and Carver was going to wait until he’d come up with the perfect solution in how to deal with him. The truth was, Romone had earned himself a death certificate. He’d sent a man onto his property.
With Morgan now his wife, he had something precious to take care of. If anything happened to her, the whole world would regret creating him.
The scars were from when he was sloppy, when he fell asleep and an enemy decided to cut him up. They were reminders to never sleep until his enemy was dead.
There were different levels of enemies. He was going to enjoy playing with Romone. When the right time came, he was going to enjoy ending his life.