Page 28 of Beautiful Beast

I rip away from him. “Because I was forced to marry you. Because you made a deal with my father for my hand in marriage. I know your reputation. You’re literally known as the boogeyman within our circles. That doesn’t exactly instill trust.”

“All fair points. I won’t fight you on any of those. But that doesn’t mean you have to fight me on everything. I want to know what’s on your mind. Tell me.”

“And if I don’t?”

He stands so close to me that I have to crane my neck back to meet his eyes. “I could throw you onto that bed and spank the fire right out of you.”

I gasp.

“So, tell me, Anya.” He takes my face between his hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m still scared you’re going to take me against my will.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“It’s sort of hard for me to take you at your word.”

“Why?”

“Because—” I stop. It’s because of my father. He would constantly break his word to me. But to tell Erik this would be to give him a part of my past, and I’m not ready for that.

“Because?”

“Because of everything I just said. I don’t trust you.”

His strong hands on my jaw are so much softer than when my father would grab my face. I’ve never known this sort of touch before from a man. My mother would hug me. Nadia hugs me.

But the touch of my mom and sister are completely different from the touch of my husband.

“You don’t trust me,” he states. “I know. Turn around.”

I blink. “What?”

“Turn around, Anya.”

I want to ask him why, but I know how cryptic he can be. So, slowly, I do as he says, and my heart pounds as I do it.

His hands rest on my shoulders. It would be so easy for him to grab, throw me onto the bed, and have his way with me. Within the Bratva, marital rape isn’t a thing. And yet as a woman, I know it is.

But he doesn’t throw me onto the bed.

Instead, he runs his hands over the buttons at the back of my dress, then pushes my hair out of the way. I feel his breath right by my ear.

“You have a beautiful body. I wouldn’t want to scar it. So, hold still.”

I tense. “Hold still?” I glance over my shoulder at him and watch as he pulls out a small pocketknife from his jacket. “What are you doing with that?”

His smile is filled with pure darkness. “I said to hold still, Anya.”

Everything in me wants to run, yet my body is frozen. He’s going to kill me. He’s actually going to kill me.

And then he presses the knife to the buttons at the back of my dress and brings the knife down. He’s cutting the back of my dress open, I realize.

The cool air in the room tickles my back the moment he peels open the fabric. I hold my dress to my front so it can’t fall off me.

Without a word, he skims his fingers along my back. Goosebumps break out along my skin.

“I want you to get on the bed.”

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