Page 62 of Into the Woods

I should be scared.

I should be terrified.

Instead, for the first time ever, I feel safe.

I feel cared for and cherished.

Treasured.

Maybe even loved. I don’t know. That might just be too much to ask for in my life.

The door to his suite slams behind us closing us away from the house—from the rest of the world—and Christophe sets me down in the middle of the room.

“What happens now?” I ask.

Right or wrong, I care about him. I always have and I don’t think I can survive anything less than full reciprocity.

Christophe stares at me, his full lips pursed, making them even fuller. More alluring. More tempting.

I want to press up onto my toes and taste them, but as I shift my weight, his hold on my shoulders tightens. Not pushing me away, but certainly not pulling me close.

Despite his words and declarations, doubt starts to creep in. Christophe runs hot and fierce, but a chill from his lack of response burrows under my skin, making me jittery and uncomfortable.

I care too much—about him, about his wants and desires. I squirm, trying to pull away from him but, once again, I get nowhere.

“Be still, honeybee.” Christophe leans close, his lips barely moving as he pushes the words from his mouth. “You want to know what happens next? This is where we start. Where wereclaim what’s been taken from us. This is the start of us, you and me. The start of our empire.”

He walks us farther into the room. The bloodied cashmere throw slides from my shoulders as we move, leaving me completely exposed as he presses me close. His warm, solid body is a beacon, a safe haven against the frigid night air swirling through the broken glass door. His tongue swipes across his lower lip, wetting it before he pulls it between his teeth.

He spins me around to gaze out over his grounds, his mouth brushing against my ear as he says, “This is the beginning of our adventure,ma chère. The start of our forever. We’re going to take back what’s rightfully ours and rule over the Robicheaux empire. Bring it back to the vision my father had for it, and then make it even better. Make it completely ours.” He kisses a path down my neck and across my shoulder, goose bumps amplified by the warmth of his mouth.

He leads me to the bathroom, shedding his weapons and peeling off his clothes as the water heats. We step into the shower, the water tinted pink with the blood painted over my skin as it swirls around the drain, taking the marks of a horrid man with it.

We take our time lathering our hands and washing each other clean.

Touching.

Caressing.

The temperature rises, though it has nothing to do with the steamy water and everything to do with the man in front of me.

“You’ll always be my honeybee”—he turns us, backing me into the corner and wraps both my wrists in one of his big hands, pinning them against the tile above my head—“but to everyone else, you’ll be the queen bee. And I’ll spend the rest of my life serving you.”

Christophe takes my mouth, devouring me, making me his over and over again, all while declaring that he is mine.

Epilogue

… Dreams

Tru

I did it.I pulled the trigger and now he’s dead. Gone forever.

I’m finally safe, at least from him.

The devil no longer has a hold on me. He is no more.

I slide to the ground, the cold and wet soaking through my lounge pants.

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