Page 60 of A Monster Is Coming

I belonged to Peter.

The only problem was, this wasn’t the Peter I wanted.

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Peter

Ivan had told me it was now my time to take care of her. I had no problem doing that, because in the last month I had gotten a clear picture of who Niamh Byrne was.

She was scared. Lost. Alone. And I knew for a fact she was unwanted. At least, that was what she thought.

Ivan had sent me to collect her, to knock her up. She’d been a job, but when it came down to the final act, I’d never wanted to do anything more than I did with her. I wasn’t acting with Niamh. I wasn’t faking it. The moment I touched her, I wanted her.

Even now as I tried to handle her emotions, I took possession of her lips, kissed her, and had no intention of doing anything more tonight, even though I wanted to. I wanted to break this fucking void between us, which I knew would happen the moment she found out the truth.

Ivan was just too fucking stubborn to accept that this kind of shit was going to happen regardless of what he did.

It was a fucked-up mess with Niamh and me. That I could accept, but I refused to give up on her.

Breaking the kiss, I stared down into her tear-stained face. Some of her makeup had started to smudge. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt her. Stroking her cheek, I couldn’t look away. I needed to take care of her.

As I reached for her hand, Niamh didn’t fight me, which I was thankful for. I’d still fight her if I had to.

I walked with her through to our en-suite bathroom, and I didn’t say a word. Ivan loved his creature comforts, so the weddings were always luxurious. I didn’t know if this was his way of trying to win women over, or just because he liked to show off his power and influence.

There were many rumors, some true. I was aware that Ivan had spent a lot of time on the streets after being rejected by his father. He had to learn to survive. I believe he lived with Slavik, as well as a woman. I feel her name was Cara, who would later betray him.

I also believed this was Ivan’s way of giving the women he was taking under his wing, the perfect day. The perfect wedding. I didn’t know why it mattered to him. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Victor’s face when it came time to his wedding.

Letting go of Niamh, I stepped toward the shower and switched it on. I tested the water to make sure it was at the right temperature, and then I turned toward Niamh. Tears fell down her face, and she wasn’t making a sound. I saw her heartache. There was no room for words.

I walked behind her and reached for the zipper of her dress. The seamstress had complained about this dress. When Niamh first tried it on, it had fit like a dream. Niamh had lost too much weight in the past months, and they had to quickly pin and tuck it all in to fit.

With the zipper released, the dress fell to Niamh’s hips. I stepped close, and with her unable to see me, I couldn’t resist leaning in and sniffing her hair. She smelled so good. Like vanilla and honey. I’d missed being this close to her.

Pushing the dress past her hips, she wore a white padded bra and a thong that was not helping the state of my dick.

She wasn’t ready for us, for a true wedding night. I’d already taken her virginity, I didn’t need to fuck her again until we were both damn good and ready. Although I wanted to. Tonight was certainly not the night.

I took care of her bra, flicking open the clasp, and then helping it find its way onto the floor. Her thong was easy. The flimsy fabric gave way, and I tossed it to the floor.

I stayed behind her, staring at her naked back, not liking the weight she had lost, but also knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I stripped out of my clothes, and then put my hands on her hips and guided her into the shower. She didn’t fight me.

When I touched her, I felt her tense. I moved her into the shower, and the water had now gotten nice and warm. We stepped beneath the water and I closed the door.

Niamh tilted her head back, eyes closed, and allowed the water to wash over her. I was able to just watch her. I didn’t need to talk or to ruin the moment. Neither of us did.

With her distracted, I reached for the soap and a sponge, lathering it up. I pulled Niamh into my arms, and the moment I touched her, she flinched, which I wasn’t happy about, but there was nothing I could do.

Keeping one hand on her at all times, I began to soap her body.

“Do you ever wonder what our kid would be like?” I asked.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Just the other day, I was in my office at the penthouse. I’ve not taken you to my other home yet, but I’ve got a yard. Even a basketball court and a tennis court. I couldn’t help but imagine our son shooting hoops on that court. Our daughter dribbling the ball down the court.”

“Please,” she said.

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