Page 57 of Bones

She sits up, wrapping her arms around her legs, her gaze on her knees like she doesn’t know I am here, but I know better than that.

The bed dips slightly from my weight as I sit beside her. “You need to give yourself time to work through this. Trust me, if I thought fucking you would make everything better, I’d already be inside you.”

Athena blows out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want you to be careful with me. Can’t you just treat me like you used to?”

I arch an eyebrow at her, and she glares at me. “Not like that, asshole. Without chaining me to a wall or putting me in a cage.”

Wrapping my hand around her throat, I narrow my gaze at her. “Let me be crystal fucking clear, Butterfly. I told you more than once not to call me that. I’m trying to be a good husband, but I won’t tolerate my wife being a brat, and resorting to name calling.”

She swallows hard against my hand and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl. Now, go take a shower. The therapist will be here soon.”

Climbing off the bed, she walks toward the bathroom, but then stops and turns to me. “I’m sorry I ruined it, but thank you for letting me spend time outside.”

With a nod, I say, “You’re welcome. If you can control your tongue, we’ll have dinner out there.”

If she wants an asshole, I’m more than capable of that. The problem is, I don’t think my wife knows what she wants. I know she wants to be treated normally, and I understand that, but I’m not sure she’s ready to be. I’m concerned if I push her too far too fast, I’ll lose her altogether. Not that I think she’ll leave, because I don’t.However, I know if someone retreats inside themselves, they can go so far no one can reach them.

I need to talk to Penelope about this, which is the last fucking thing I want to do. She may be a psychologist, but she hates what I did to Athena. It’s entirely possible that she’ll tell me to go fuck myself.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ATHENA

Therapy isn’t supposed to be fun, but for me it was really challenging. I didn’t know how much to tell her about Luca, so I mostly didn’t. I did ask her when we could have sex. The answer was generic; when I feel like I’m ready, and that he shouldn’t push me for anything. It’s not that I’m dying to have sex, it’s just the normalcy of it. I don’t want my husband to be afraid to touch me, or worse, think of my father when he does. Also, I think the longer we wait, the more likely it is to cause problems. Luca was the first man to look at me with unquenchable desire. The first to give me an orgasm. He was my first everything that counts, and I don’t want to lose that.

I walk through the house looking for him, but I don’t know where he is. Did he leave? I walk down the long upstairs hallway, peeking into each room as I pass, and stop in my tracks when I hear his angry, booming voice.

“I don’t give a fuck. He was a goddamn pedophile, and raped his own fucking daughter. How many times? I have no clue, because she won’t talk to me. If he has a problem with that asshole being dead, he can take it up with me, but no, he is not seeing my wife. Access fucking denied.”

Standing outside the door, I shake as I attempt to figure out what he was talking about. Obviously, it was about me. But who wants to see me? I had no family aside from my mother and father. But he said, ‘he is not seeing my wife’. I’m sure it was ‘he’ and not ‘she’. Besides, why would my mother want anything to do with me now?

The door jerks open, and I come face to face with a furious Luca. His face is red, fists clenched, and I can feel the pure anger comingfrom him in waves. When he registers who is standing in front of him, he calms slightly. “Butterfly. Are you okay?”

I nod. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He grabs the back of my neck, pulls me close to him, and growls, “I am now.”

Pressing his lips to mine, he kisses me aggressively, pushing his tongue into my mouth like he’s ravenous for me. He cups my breast and pinches my nipple, causing me to whimper. Turning us around, he walks me backward until he pushes me down onto the top of a desk. Lifting my skirt, he slips his hand inside my panties and immediately finds my clit. I’m so turned on, I know it won’t take long for me to explode. And then he stops. I glance at my surroundings, an ‘L’ shaped dark desk, a computer on the other side. A knife near my head?

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Luca says as he removes his hand from my panties.

He hovers over me, a hand on either side of the desk, appearing conflicted. Only moments ago, it was like an animal had taken over, and he couldn’t control himself. I want the animal. I want him as desperate for me as I am for him. Reaching up beside my head, I grab the knife and press it to his chest, just holding it there, not attempting to cut him, and he stares at me, not with fear, but heat.

“Is that how we’re playing this, wife?”

I don’t respond with words, I simply watch him as he wraps his hand around mine. “Do it. Never threaten something you have no intention of following through on.”

I nick his skin, and a few drops of blood come out, and my eyes grow wide with fear because I don’t know how Luca will react. He runs his tongue over his lower lip, and stares at me with an intense gaze. “Do you remember how I told you pain turns me on, Butterfly?”

I nod slightly as I stare at the trickling blood blooming from his chest. It’s beautiful, the dark ink with red blood breaking through. It’s nearly hypnotizing.

“Give me the knife.”

Without thinking about it, I do as he says, never considering what he’s going to do next. I gasp as he takes the blade and cuts down the center of my dress with ease, before doing the same with my panties.

He holds the knife to my exposed breasts as I breathe heavily.

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