Page 26 of My Ruthless Husband

He eats up the space between us and cradles my chin in his hand. “You. You’re what’s wrong with me.”

I push him and take a hasty step back. “Don’t you dare put this on me.”

He sighs and glances at his watch.

“You can just leave if you’re getting bored.” It was meant to be a jab but the words come out sounding melancholic.

In the beginning, Damian’s words were sparse but sweet, just enough to satiate my love-starved heart. He’d whisper phrases like “you’re beautiful” or “you drive me crazy” in my ear, and I’d melt into his touch. But after we got married, those tender wordsdisappeared and I was left with a husband who spoke to me in a detached, calculating tone.

Watching him like this, so uninterested, so openly indifferent, hurts. He doesn’t respond. But once again, he invades my personal space and brushes my curls back. He kisses the top of my head and walks away, Hal following.

I stare at his back, pursing my trembling lips. For the first time, I assessed him accurately. He was indeed getting bored. I quietly swipe at the lone tear that slips down my cheek. Why am I being emotional? He is openly treating me as the unwanted wife now. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. But… I shake my head. I won’t dwell on it anymore. Getting out of this situation without harming anyone in the process as he not so subtly threatened is my main motto. It is trickier than I thought but I have to find a way to get out of his hold again.

Sniffling, I start toward the master bedroom but instead of entering I move past it and walk toward the end of the hallway and step into the guest bedroom.

This property has twenty-one bedrooms including the master. If I have to live here, I would prefer to have as much distance as possible between Damian and me.

After a quick shower, I shrug on the fluffy gray bathrobe and fall on the bed. I make a mental note of moving my clothes from the master to this room tomorrow.

Fatigue from the flight then dancing all night with Summer and topping it all with the drama that unfolded at the end wore me out so much that I go to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

???

I was floating. Feeling lighter than water as if earth has tilted on its axis. I grunt in my sleep and move my head, frowningwhen my cheek presses against something solid instead of the pillow’s softness. “Mm.” I shift slightly, wondering what the warm hard thing against my face is. I nuzzle it and the familiar faint scent pulls me in.

The sound of door opening and then closing fall on my ears. My brain slowly begins working and I blink my eyes open. Damian stares down at me as he carries me further inside what I now see is the master bedroom.

I try to pull back but his arms tighten around me. When he reaches the king-sized bed, he lowers me on it. I immediately scoot back and rub the sleep from my eyes. “What the hell?”

He is not in the black suit anymore. He also got rid of the beard he was sporting, his face now clean shaven. His jet-black hair is wet and hangs over his forehead making him appear younger than his thirty-two years. He is only wearing pajama pants which is riding low on his hips. He is ripped. Damian always had a Greek god body. And he worked out every day to maintain it. I swallow hard as my gaze runs over his defined abs. He is huge. Broad and muscled.

I follow his veiny arm as he reaches up to push his inky strands back. When my eyes meet his, he quirks a brow, making me flush. My face feels hot and I flush some more knowing that Damian can easily see my red face even in the muted lights of the bedroom.

Too embarrassed to speak, I scramble off the bed and start toward the door. His arm wraps around my stomach, stopping me. “Where do you think you are going?”

“The guestroom.”

He effortlessly turns me to face him. Gripping my chin gently, he leans his head down. “Why?”

“I told you I wanted a divorce.”

His eyes darken but other than that his face remains impassive. “And?”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “And?”

He tucks my unruly hair. “What about it?”

Is he serious? “I don’t wish to share your bed anymore.”

“Is that right?” He buries his nose in my hair and for a moment, for one weak moment I forget everything. My eyes drift close as I nuzzle the base of his throat with my face, my nails digging at his sides. His expensive aftershave makes me dizzy with desire. This feels amazing. Natural. My body recognizes his. It’s demanding what only Damian can give. Carnal pleasure.

I push out a long breath when his arms draw me tighter against him. Familiar tension begins to bloom inside me. The moment Damian’s lips meet the crook of my neck, everything inside me tightens. My thoughts are muddled. I can’t think because every fiber of my being is screaming in need.

I begin to pant and angle my head when he buries his face in my sensitive nook, kissing and nibbling on my neck. Sinking my fingers in his hair, I fist it as he drags his mouth along my throat. His mouth is surprisingly ravenous. Something feels different. Like never before. There’s a new kind of hunger. The kind that has a dangerous, possessive edge to it. In the past, he always appeared to be in control. When it came to sex, Damian never hesitated to take what he wanted. I can’t put my finger on it but something about tonight feels like he is barely hanging on the last threads of his control.

I stifle a moan when his warm breath grazes the shell of my ear. “If I told you to lie on our bed and spread your legs for me, would you do it, angel?”

Before I could utter my consent, I’m lifted off the floor. I squeal and wrap them around his waist. And a second later, we stumble on the bed with me still wrapped around him.

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