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I've read that it is customary to consummate your wedding vows on the night of your wedding, but we have none. There were no vows said. No promises of love to each other. Just a contract. Nothing special. We're nothing to each other.
"Follow me."
He walks toward the bedroom. My heart flutters, and my stomach hollows out.
I'm not ready. No.
When he sees that I'm not following him, he turns and sticks out his hand, motioning me to get up and go over to the bedroom. "Come on. I'm not going to bite." I get up, relieved, but his next word has a flutter of butterflies swarming between my legs. "Yet." He laughs.
I want to punch him.
"Very funny," I drawl sarcastically, "for a man who wears a mask with the word HATED scrolled across it to hide what he looks like to everyone. You have a lot of nerve to say you're going to bite me. You would have to take the thing off first."
He tilts his head back and laughs. "Patience." But then his laughter dies. "At least when you see what I look like, there is nowhere to run to unless I'm so ugly you prefer to jump off the boat into the icy waters of the ocean and freeze to death."
"That would defeat the whole purpose of me being here in the first place, wouldn’t it? All that money gone to waste.”
Silence.
I hit a nerve.
Good.
''Ihave plenty of money.''
''Good to know,'' I shoot back. ''As your wife, I can buy whatever I want, then."
"Do your worst, Lillith. Whatever you want, I can get. Whatever you need, I can provide."
I snort. "Cocky, too." I roll my eyes dramatically and tilt my head to the side. "Makes me wonder why?"
He inches closer to me, and I can feel the heat from his body on the swell of my breasts. He removes his jacket and tosses it toward the chair in the corner, undoing his bow tie, cuff links and dropping them on the floor.
I swallow thickly because I have to admit, he's hot, and I can't wrap my head around why. I haven't even seen his face yet. It’s probably why he practically can fuck any woman he wants and probably has.Except you.
The heat between my legs feels suffocating. It feels like fire spreads across my thighs, and I need him to extinguish the flames.
He steps closer, his shirt feathering the skin on my chest. The backs of his knuckles caress the skin right above the low neckline of my dress, causing my skin to prickle in awareness.
I can hear his breathing pick up behind the mask. A painful desire swirls in the pit of my stomach, wanting him to keep touching me. I don't move. I'm nervous and excited and turned on. My nipples pebble, screaming to be released from my dress, but it dies a slow death because he drops his hand and steps away.
Just like that.
I got sucked into his web, only to be spit back out like I tasted like shit.
"I think you should have a seat on the bed."
Walking away to compose myself, I take a seat and adjust the long skirt of the dress and wait.
He sits next to me on the bed and turns to face me.
Hearing him take a deep breath, he slowly lifts the mask off his face, and I swear I can hear my heartbeat slow down. The anticipation is thick in the air. The tension stretches like a band between us.
He removes the mask, our eyes meet, and my chest flutters, lost in the eyes of the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He has scars on the right side of his face and what appears to be a prosthetic eye, but it shifts color like a reptile.
His eyebrow has three permanent lines that slice right through it, reaching a big red scar on his right cheek. He's gorgeous. The scars just add to his appeal. His nose is straight, and his cheekbones are high. His lips are full and sculpted. His straight hair is the color of dark coal, and his left eye is the color of the darkest ocean.
Heartbreakingly beautiful.
