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I giggle and turn to face him. He opens one eye and smirks, opening his arms to invite me into his chest.
“You stayed….” I trail off.
He nods.“Yes. We have to start somewhere. I gave you my word.”
My heart feels like a swarm of butterflies is inside it, flying rampant.
“How do we even start?” I ask.
“Afraid you’ll have to navigate that one, Emelia. This is one thing I’m not good at,” he admits what we both already know very well. This is uncharted territory for him. But it is for me too. Only difference is I had a relationship before. Has he ever had a relationship that was more than a sexual payoff?
“Nico? Am I your first?”
He laughs loud. There is still as rasp to his voice, and I look up at him.“What? I'm serious.” I smack his chest.
“Emelia, I didn’t learn how to fuck you to sleep by being born with the skill.”
My smile fades then, but I hurry and hide it. Made men don’t have low body counts, neither in fucking nor in killing. We can't go back, only forward.
“You know what I mean,” I tell him. He senses my unease, and I appreciate that he just lets me have it and moves past it.
“You're my first and only wife. So, yes. And no, I haven’t had a romantic relationship outside of what you and I are trying to do here,” he admits.
“Well, we have to get to know one anotheroutsideof the bedroom,” I add. Because as of today, that’s all we know about each another. Oh, and how to royally piss one another off.
“Okay. Is there a list of questions we should ask?” He plays with my hair, and I draw shapes and words on his chest with my finger.
“No, we want it to be authentic. I’m sure there are plenty of books on how to get to know someone, but that seems counterproductive.”
I feel him nod.“Agreed.”
We stay silent for a little while. This is a lot harder than I would have thought. Just ask questions.
“There is a picture in your office. It's of a man and a woman and a little boy. It looks like you. Is that your parents?” I guess we can go straight for the jugular. I tightly shut my eyes and scrunch my face, scolding myself for this one.
“Yes.” He sounds cold. I sit up and look at him, and he doesn’t look back at me. He keeps his eyes focused on the ceiling, and I realize I have about two seconds to change the subject.
“A sex club. That’s interesting.” It takes a minute, but he laughs.
“Yes. A sex club. And I still need to handle your guards. I want the name of any of the people who helped you get away yesterday,” he says with such ease, changing the course of the conversation.
My back tenses. I remember Lenny then and the fear in her eyes when she realized who I was and who I was trying to get away from. The way she feared for her family. I made a promise, and I don’t want to break that.
“Nico.” I tighten my hand on his chest, so afraid he won't hear me.
“No, Emelia. You will tell me names, and they will be dealt with. Lucky the first guy is in our hands.”
I shoot up.“But they didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t know I was running,” I blurt out, doing all I can to make sure they don’t get hurt because of me.
“I don’t care, Emelia. They could have helped my wife run away from me.”
I think up something fast and soften my body, forcing the tension to leav. I kiss his chest first before speaking.“They didn’t though. They were helping me get to you.”
“Nice try, Emelia. Names.”
Fine. He wants to play tough, then I can be tougher. Moving my hands down his defined pecs and chiseled abs, I go under the sheet and find his cock. He slept in the nude, which eliminates barriers. I need to get to it, so I bite the taught flesh above his rib as I get him hard.
“Emelia,” he warns, but I ignore him.
