Page 43 of The Devil's Torment

“Fine.Fine.I give in. Where are we?”

A smile tugs at my lips as I stand, holding out my hand and taking hers. I maneuver her in front of me. With my fingers squeezing her hips, I steer her toward the steps leading down to the armored car waiting on the tarmac. At the top, I hold her back, waiting for Barron and Andrew to get into position. Once they are, I rest my chin on her shoulder and put my lips right next to her ear.

“Croatia. It’s one of my favorite places to visit, and I know you haven’t been.”

“I haven’t.” She glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes shining and alive, her smile lighting the dark places inside me—ones that have lived in the shadows ever since my mother chose death over life. Chose her own selfish needs over those of her children. “I never expected a honeymoon, you know.”

Something twangs in my chest, pulling tightly as though a band has wrapped itself around my organs and is slowly strangling them. For all Victoria’s sharp wit and audaciousness, there’s a vulnerability about her I’ve never previously noticed. And not just sexually, either. It’s as though she’s constantly battling hidden demons that tell her she isn’t good enough. For whom, I’m not sure, but if anyone knows about battling demons, it’s me.

“I thought it would be a good idea to get away from our families and places familiar to us both and get to know one another in a neutral environment. The sun won’t hurt, either.”

Barron gives me the nod, and I gesture for Victoria to take the stairs ahead of me. My eyes travel to her arse encased in shapely blue jeans. Until a few weeks ago, I’d never thought of Victoria as anything other than my future wife’s annoying sister. Now, even thinking about Beth makes me feel as if I’m cheating on Victoria. I can’t help stray thoughts from meandering through my mind whether I’d feel as relaxed and enthusiastic about my honeymoon if it were Beth picking her way down the airplane steps.

I don’t think I would have.

Something Xan said to me a few weeks ago about a combative wife and how vibrant and alive bantering with Imogen makes him feel. At the time, I’d scoffed at him, certain I’d chosen the right wife for me. Now, I’m not so sure. There’s something to be said for a woman with fire in her eyes and passion in her belly.

Although if Victoria ever waxes off my eyebrow like Imogen did to Xan at the height of their feud, she’ll see a different side to me. A spanking will be the least of her punishments.

A shudder travels through me. I wouldn’t have said I’m into kink—unlike Tobias who spends every spare moment he has at his sex club, The Lair, watching people get off—but spanking Victoria this morning and seeing how drenched she was afterward made my palm twitch. It’s an activity I’m keen to revisit, and soon.

The journey to our final destination only takes twenty minutes. As we drive through the heavily guarded gates, I focus my attention on Victoria. I’m keen to see what she thinks of my home away from home. I bought this house about five years ago. It needed completely gutting, the renovations taking almost six months to complete. I adore coming here. Victoria will be the first woman other than my sister I’ve let through the doors. I didn’t even plan to bring Elizabeth here, and I’m not sure why. If we’d made it to the altar, I intended to take her to Thistlewood in Scotland, the same place Xan took Imogen.

Perched on top of a hill, with views down to Dubrovnik old town and the vibrant blue waters of the Adriatic Sea beyond, the stone house stole my heart the second I laid eyes on it. Small by my family’s standards, with only five bedrooms and six bathrooms, its positioning makes it easy for my security detail to ensure not only my protection, but anyone in my family who may visit.

We round the last curve, and the house appears before us. Victoria’s eyes light up, much as they had when I told her where we’d flown to. A broad grin stretches her full lips wide, and an urge to kiss her steals over me. I hold the thought and exit the vehicle, but as I round the car and have her join me, I surrender.

“Come here.” Sliding my arms around her waist, I tug her close and claim her mouth.

Like a rose fed the perfect amount of sunshine and water, she opens beneath me. My dick gets hard in about two point five seconds, and like a horny teenager, I grind against her, swallowing the half sigh, half groan she makes.

Already, kissing Victoria feels so natural, as if I should have been doing this the whole time.

Once again, the thought that Dad was right, and I had chosen the wrong bride first time around crosses my mind. It’s a moot point now that Elizabeth is dead, but I can’t help wondering all the same.

One thing’s for sure: I am obsessed with kissing and touching my wife.

Regretfully, I pull away and take her hand. “Let me show you the house.”

I speed through the rooms downstairs, giving her little time for anything more than a cursory glance. As I sweep her up the curved staircase to the next floor, I ignore every door, beelining for the one at the far end of the long hallway. I open it and, placing my hand on her lower back, ease her inside.

She reacts as I’d hoped with a sharp inhale.

“Oh, Nicholas. It’sstunning.”

Leaving me on the threshold of the master suite, she strides over to the floor-to-ceiling French doors leading out onto a balcony. Homes dot the hillside, smaller than my villa, but perfect all the same, leading all the way down to the coast. The sun sparkles off the sea like thousands of diamonds tossed into the waves. I make my way over and band an arm around her waist.

“See over there.” I point to the left, where the stern of a boat peeks out from the eastern side of the marina. “That’s my yacht. I’m a keen sailor, and I’m hoping it’s something you might enjoy, too.”

“I’ve never sailed.”

“That ends tomorrow.”

“What if I don’t have sea legs?”

“I’ll hold your hair while you puke over the side.”

A ripple of laughter vibrates through her. “You know, Nicholas, I think you’re a closet romantic.”

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