Page 403 of The Christmas Wife

I shake my head to clear it, pull away from Sinclair, then brush past her and step inside. I’m dimly aware of Sinclair supporting me on one side. Then, she slides her arm about mywaist from the other. I lean my weight on Sinclair and tuck her closer under my arm.

"Alright, let’s get you to your room." Sinclair urges me forward. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other.Why is everything so blurry?

I hear a voice singing from far away. Weird; it’s a familiar voice, but what-fucking-ever. There will no longer be any emotions in my life. That much is clear. Then, we’re climbing up the stairs, down the hallway, into my bedroom. The mattress floats up to meet me. I spin on a cloud of white and grey and blue and red. So much red. Anger, pain, suffering. I draw in a breath, and my lungs burn. It’s dark, so dark.

There’s a groan; someone else is there with me. I try to open my eyes, but realize I’m blindfolded. Try to move my arms, and realize my hands and legs are tied. I begin to struggle in earnest, trying to break the ropes that bind me, but they seem to tighten with my efforts. My muscles burn, my heart pounds in my chest. Sweat pours down my face. Pain screeches up my arms, and I realize the restraints are cutting into my wrists.

Let me go, I didn’t do anything wrong. Let me the hell go. Oh god, oh god, why am I here? Help me, Lord. If I get out of here, I’ll forever be grateful. I’ll make sure I don’t run away from school again. I’ll be a good boy, I promise. Please, God, please.Tears squeeze out from the corners of my eyes. Wetness drips onto my lips.Help, help me, please don’t punish me like this please.

"Edward."

I need to get out of here. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t. Don’t punish me, I beg you.

"Ed, Eddie."

There's a rustling sound as the door creaks open, followed by footsteps. I try to move my arms and legs but realize I’m tied up. The space around me lightens, enough for me to makeout another figure tied up not far from me. I blink until the person’s features come into focus. It’s Baron. Fuck. I strain at my restraints, but they don’t give. The footsteps come closer; I try to push away from it. Arms reach for me, and I strain away. "Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t."

"Eddie, it’s me!"

I snap my eyes open. Baby blues meet mine. Thick eyelashes, flushed cheeks, rosebud lips. I draw in a shuddering breath, and the scent of sweet apple blossoms coils deep in my chest.

"Ed,"—she swallows—"you were dreaming."

"And now, I’m not." In one swoop, I’ve flipped her on her back on the bed and slammed my palms on either side of her head.

35

Mira

"Eddie." My heart crashes into my rib cage. "Ed, are you okay?"

He doesn’t answer. He’s planked over me, so his weight is not on me, but his big body is so close, the heat from him crashes into me and sinks into my blood. It feels like I’m in a sauna. Sweat breaks out over my upper lip. "Edward, it was a dream."

"Butyou’renot," he says in a hard voice, which is darker, meaner than how he’s sounded before. My pulse rate leaps. My pussy clenches.I should not be aroused by the viciousness in his voice, but I’m learning, I’m not the woman I thought I was. I enjoy it when he looks at me like I’m an object made for his pleasure. I adore it when he manipulates my body to bring himself satisfaction. I’m positively giddy when he touches me like it means nothing to him. What does that say about me? Is that why I was attracted to him right away, because I sensed the darkness in him? Because it touched that part deep inside of me which I’d hidden but somehow known existed? Known I waswaiting for someone like him to flick a switch and let out the pleasure seeker inside of me?

"I’m not," I say softly.

"You’remywife."

"I am."

"And you areduty-boundto do everything I ask of you."

I swallow. He’s repeating my words back to me, but from his mouth, they take on a darker meaning. Goosebumps dot my skin. A jitteriness twists my lower belly. Moisture bathes my pussy, and it takes everything in me not to whine with fear and anticipation…and need.Oh god, I’m turning into a puddle of want under him.And the way his nostrils flare, he senses it.

"Will you, Belle?” he growls. The sound is harsh and demanding, and it rips through my defenses. That melting puddle I am turns into a seething ache. One that can only be satisfied by him.

"Yes," I croak.

He bares his teeth in response. I shiver. Another thing different about him. He’s allowing his emotions to show on his face, something I’ve hoped for, but also… It’s so unexpected. It turns him from that cold, unemotional man into someone whose control has snapped. Someone who feels everything intensely. Someone I knew existed underneath the seemingly detached front he’s always presented. But there’s a difference between knowing it and facing it. He’s let the beast inside out to play and I…am the recipient of the consequences.

"And you’ll do anything I ask."

I nod.

"Anything?"

He tilts his head, an inquiring look in his eyes. The angle of his head, the way he’s watching me closely, the way those amber eyes of his gleam, he could be an apex predator, stalking his prey. Another jolt lances through me. I brace myself, and nodagain, then cry out when he drops his head and drags his nose up my cheek.

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