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Paige whimpers at the intensity, and her grip tightens on the desk as she tries to stay steady on her feet. I take her pleasure. Faster, I drive into her, holding her body tight in my grip. My control slips away with every hard thrust until the final one. I do as she desires, pinning her to the desk and coming inside her. Paige’s hands reach out, tense with pleasure, as she climaxes again.
Covering her with my jacket, I carry her upstairs to the bedroom. Content, Paige lies on the bed. Her sweat-slick body is illuminated by the setting sunlight. Listening to her soft breath, I hold her possessively and convince myself she will always be mine.
***
I look down at her glowing face, and the three most terrifying words almost slip out before I can stop myself.
“What is it?” she says sleepily.
“Nothing,” I reply.
Paige cuddles closer and places her cheek on my shoulder. “It sounded like you were about to say something.”
I watch her as she drifts off to sleep again. Her face is pink as I hold her closer, and the smell of sex still clings to her skin. I don’t try to suppress the emotions building in me. It’s safe to expose them while she sleeps against me. For a moment, I allow myself to be in love, let the defenses fall, and not hide behind what I am and must do. I pretend there’s no one outside that door, and we’re alone in the world.
I lean close, feeling her breath on my cheek, and whisper that I love her in her ear. Paige sighs as if she knows what is happening while she sleeps. I’m shocked at how good it feels to admit my feelings and let a part of me that had to hide for survival come out.
Survival is what I know best. Better than love. I withheld love to survive. And I’ve used love to get what I want.No,I correct myself. Not love, but charm and seduction. Those are the means I used on a woman who had something I wanted.
And whether I want to admit it or not, Paige has something I want.
But she also has something that I need—something that I cannot bring myself to admit having.
The sheet slips off her chest, and I stare at her breasts—full and soft. Flawless skin and soft to the touch. The temptation pulls me in as I tease the nipple with my lips until it is hard. She moans in her sleep.
Am I being honest, or am I fooling myself? My lips let go of her nipple, and I sit up in bed, her body sliding off mine onto the mattress. I head off to the bathroom, but before I shut the door, I turn and stare at her. She stretches in the bed; the sheet slips off her body further, and I’m tempted. She always tempts me—the long brown hair, her irresistible pink lips, and the lush breasts begging for my touch. She moves her full hips against the sheet, and my cock begins to harden at the sight.
I waver, and temptation battles my sense of duty. I shut the bathroom door behind me and head toward the bed. Paige smiles when I wake her with a hard kiss on her full lips. She pulls her fingers through my hair and gives me that look. She always wants me. Today, I’ll let temptation win.
Chapter 58
Paige
A month later
I’ve been in bed since ten o’clock last night. Another round of sex with the hottest man alive. Over the weeks, I’ve learned Andrei’s sex habits, and I enjoy the soreness in the morning and afternoon. However, I hate it when he leaves the house with his men, dark glasses in place as they jump into their Rovers and tear down the driveway. Another dangerous job, and I bite my nails, willing him to come back alive. And when Andrei does come home, he slips his hand between my legs, and I’m drenched.
I roll over onto his side of the bed and smell his faint cologne on his pillow. My fingers work fast as I imagine last night, him forcing me down, growling as he pulled my legs apart. Whispering all of his affectionate names for me in Russian as he thrust deeper into me again and again. I came with a sigh as my legs stiffened, and I pulled his hair. I didn’t want this life, but now, I never want to leave it.
Finally, I slip out of bed and wrap a robe around me. I debate going downstairs to eat breakfast though it’s almost noon. In the shower, the water on my skin feels great, but the scent of my honey shampoo turns my stomach. Maybe I should go downstairs and take a walk in the garden. Andrei made me promise never to go in the maze. I’m to always stay in sight.
That digs at me, the constant surveillance. The exchange of my daily freedom to be his wife. I’m reminded of what I’ve become every day.
I throw on a wrap dress and head downstairs, tapping my phone as I go, informing the kitchen I’ll have a fruit salad on the terrace. I wave to Natasha, who is walking from behind the garage toward me. Another place I’ve been told not to go. And the basement is off-limits as well. I never thought about it until today, but it’s odd how Natasha shows up the second my foot hits the first floor.
“Good afternoon, Paige Geraldovna.” She strides toward me with a cigarette in her mouth. She flicks it onto the stone path and crushes it under her black suede boot. “You look well today.”
I don’t feel it. The cigarette smell makes me feel off, but I don’t say anything as I sit down. “Are you busy?” I ask. My gaze snaps away from the garage and back to her face. “Do you want to join me?”
She smiles, grabbing a chair to sit down. “It’s a pleasant day,” she says, “Andrei should be back soon.” Her eyes sweep over my body, pausing at my bloated stomach.
I know, I know, I’ve gained a few pounds. I suck my stomach in and tap on my phone. “I’ll tell the kitchen to bring you lunch. I don’t like to eat alone.”
She nods. “Thank you, Paige. You always think of others.”
The teasing has stopped since everyone has learned about my wretched home life through Oleg. My father’s treatments have stopped since the end of last month, despite his doctor urging him to endure another round. Dad is bravely hanging on, and I’m thankful, but I’m stressed every day. He claims he’s not in pain, but that’s impossible.
The kitchen staff places a tray on the patio table weighed down with cut fruit, brioche, and coffee. It’s my usual breakfast, and the server puts a plate in front of me and then does the same for Natasha. The smell of the mango tickles my nose, and soon that tickle turns into a wave of sick. I feel nauseous as I jump up from the chair and flee toward the maze.
