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A cell phone rang in the bedroom, and Constantine groaned at the sound. “I’m waiting for a call, and I have to take it.” He gave my fingers a squeeze before reaching out to turn on the shower taps. “Get in there and wait for me.”
I flashed him a devious smile. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes blazed at the response. Grasping my face between his hands, he covered my mouth with his. I gasped as he released me, bracing my hands on his shoulders as I breathed through the ache in my ribs.
“You’re playing a dangerous game by starting all kinds of fires with that submissive tone, Talia.”
“Burn me,” I dared. At this point, I was ready to embrace the inferno. It promised safety. A future. Things I’d only dreamed of having.
Constantine smiled. With a final peck on my lips, he released me and strode purposefully from the room. Closing the opaque glass door, I sagged into the shower and shivered as the hot water sluiced over my bruised torso. I fell into a trance-like state, my body feeling relaxed after being so well used.
I lathered soap in my hands and cupped my swollen sex. We’d made a mess, but I quickly rubbed it clean. Careful not to let the soap linger, I removed one of the faucets and rinsed the apex of my thighs.
The bathroom door opened.
“You’d better not be masturbating to a shower head,” Constantine growled.
The threat made gooseflesh break over my skin. “As if it was at all comparable,” I scoffed.
Pausing only to collect a washcloth, Constantine’s naked frame filled the shower’s entrance. We stood staring at one another, the truth of our changed relationship hanging between us. We were monsters with unseen blood stains on our hands. The smuggler and his assassin bride.
“You’re letting all the hot air out,” I pointed out, urging him to come all the way in.
With a soft grunt, he stepped inside. Taking the soap, he lathered the cloth and reached for me. I let him pull me close, basking in the solidness of his presence as he began to wash me. With sure, gentle strokes, he rubbed the layers of makeup off my face. When the stain on my lips didn’t rub all the way off, he frowned at the cloth.
“It needs chemicals to be removed,” I whispered, hating to break the atmosphere that had fallen between us.
“Mmm,” he grunted.
With far too much shampoo, he turned to washing my hair. Those sure fingers, which could easily snap my neck, rubbed tenderly into my hair. The scalp massage sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I was limp by the time he worked the cloth over the rest of my body, so that when he lifted one of my arms and pressed it firmly against my rib, I jerked, unable to hide the sharp inhale.
Constantine stilled.
During the pause that ensued, I didn’t meet his gaze, instead playing with the ends of my hair. There were so many tangles that I knew I was going to need half a tube of detangler to work the knots out.
“Who did this to you?” The question was slow and controlled. But the beast raging underneath the surface couldn’t be hidden.
I pulled my lip between my teeth, chewing it raw as I shook my head.
“Who, Talia?” Constantine ran his knuckles over my side, pressing hard enough to make me gasp in pain.
But it was only a matter of time before he worked through the details on his own. With a shuddering exhale, I let go of my pride and decided to work on building the fragile trust growing between us. “It wasn’t your sister,” I quietly admitted.
Constantine cupped my cheek in his hand, forcing me to face him. I couldn’t hold his gaze; instead, I focused on the base of his throat. “Talia, your rib is severely bruised, probably broken.”
“It barely bothers me.” That was the truth. It was a familiar pain, and I didn’t let it stop me from little things like sex.
“Talia,” he warned. “What is this?”
I can trust him. He won’t hurt me.And he hadn’t in the time I’d been married to him. Besides, this trust between us would only grow if I nurtured it and encouraged him to do the same. “My father stopped his frequent beatings a few years ago, although he occasionally backhanded me for saying the wrong thing. I thought the beatings had reduced because I was finally good enough, that I was finally molded into a creature he could effectively wield. But it seems he only shifted the delivery of those beatings into my brother’s hands as a way to fuel Claude’s sadistic urges.” I stopped, sucking in oxygen. After a few heavy breaths, I added in a small voice, “I was never going to be more than a human punching bag whored out to the right alliance.”
There was a moment where the hiss of the spraying water was the only sound. Perhaps Constantine hadn’t heard me. That would be a good thing; I hadn’t wanted to share the agony of my innermost shame. These were thoughts I buried, never dwelled on, let alone spoke aloud.
“They’re dead.”
Those two words caused a spark of wild glee to explode in my chest. I felt my eyes tear up. As wrong as it was on some inexplicable level, I knew the horrors I experienced wouldn’t end until my father and brother had drawn their last breaths. I lifted my eyes to Constantine, blinking until his image became clear. That hard look on his face was a test. He wanted to see if I could handle his promise, a promise in which he swore to end my family’s reign of terror.
My lip wobbled as I stared into his eyes and witnessed that truth laid bare. The earth-shattering intimacy between us was almost too much.I will not cry.Instead, I slid my palms over his shoulders, pulling him down so I could reach his lips. “I took my last beating at their hands tonight, but we’ll talk about how we end them later. I want right now to be about us.”
