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“He’s not invited, and even if he was, there’s no way he’d start shit today. Nikolai Markov would skin him alive if he ruined his daughter’s big day.”
“When are going to deal with him?”
“Soon,” I promise.
Our biggest point of conflict is how we prioritize what needs to be done. We’re in a constant state of triage, bleeding out in a thousand places. All we can do is plug the most critical holes first. The order of those actions is where Sabrina and I disagree.
Things have been tense between us.
She thinks I lied to her, luring her out here under the promise of partnership, while putting myself in a position of authority over her.
She’s not entirely wrong. I need to find a way to show her how much I value her intelligence and her initiative, even if I don’t always agree with her.
She’s integrating with the group, but she’s not just another soldier.
I have to show her how much she means to me.
We haven’t even had time to hook up the last few days. I’m aching for her. We need that physical contact to keep us connected—it’s crucial to our relationship.
While Sabrina showers, I run through a list of potential suppliers Jasper brought me.
He’s found a dozen different options, but none of them are great. None can provide all the ingredients we need, and I have to discard half the list on price, availability, or conflicting arrangements with rivals.
Sabrina emerges at last, lips painted, eyes smoky and catlike, hair piled up in cascading ringlets like Aphrodite. She’s wearing a plum-colored gown, draped and silky, the material clinging to her luscious curves by a few thin straps.
I haven’t seen her dolled up like this in weeks. She’s ravishing. My mouth waters, blood rushing into my cock.
In an instant, I’m up from the bed, seizing her by the shoulders and tearing the dress off her.
I’ve ripped Sabrina’s clothes plenty of times before. She loves when I’m ravenous for her, she loves when I’m rough.
This time, she shrieks with outrage, shoving me away.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She’s never pushed me away before. She’s never stopped me from fucking her, not even in the most inappropriate or hurried moments.
I’m off-balanced, confused.
She lifts the dangling shoulder strap, torn from the dress.
“You ruined it!”
“I’ll buy you another dress.”
“I don’t want another dress! I loved this one. There isn’t a hundred of every beautiful thing, not everything is interchangeable!” Her cheeks are flaming, her shoulders shaking. “I want to be seen in this dress. I don’t want it ripped off me.”
I can see I made a mistake, which makes me feel stupid and angry.
“You always liked when I ripped your clothes before. You want me to be aggressive. I can’t read your mind, I’m just guessing.”
Sabrina’s lip quivers. She looks young and vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before.
“You always guessed right before. When you care about something, you get it right.”
That hits me harder than any slap.
Sabrina glares at me. “I want to be your partner, not a sex object.”
