Page 11 of Silent Ties

You’ve got to reign this in, Russet.

I scoot away from him, surprised he lets me go. He’s not bothered when water spills over the edge, though, from the state of this place, I’m guessing he’s got a thing about cleanliness.

“I think maybe we should. . .”

He props an elbow on the tub, his head leaning to the side. The bored, tired face is on, but he listens. I suspect it’s because he findsme amusing.

“Maybe we could. . .”

“Could?” he prompts.

“Um.” I swallow and for some reason, the only thing that comes out is, “Maybe we could get a divorce?”

A second goes by. And then two.

His hand snakes around me and I’m roughly pulled back into his chest. “No.”

The word is as bored and unfeeling as he is.

“But. . .” Surely, he doesn’t want to be married to a stranger?

“You went into that church, sweetheart.” He thrusts his finger inside me. “I didn’t think Marissa’s girls needed to be told what happens between married men and women.”

My cheeks scald and this time it’s not the steam from the water. “I’m not one of her girls.”

He thrusts in another finger, his pressure cruel. “No? You’re not one of the countless whores Marissa’s parades around this city?”

“I’m not. . .” My head leans against his chest.

“Not what? Marissa’s whore?”

“No!”

He finds his rhythm, his thumb rubbing my clit. His fingers in and out as I sit there and take it.

“Interesting,” he says. “So were you always in on Marissa’s plan? Did you wake up today and decide you’d fuck a Zimin one way or the other?”

I don’t reply.

“Hmmm.” His other hand tugs my nipple. “I guess you got your wish, wife.”

My fingers curl around the edge of the bathtub. The orgasm crashes around me quickly and embarrassingly easy.

I swat his hand away from me, the one leisurely stroking my nipple.

“I’m not one of her whores,” I tell him, spinning aroundin the tub. My spine bumps against the opposite end like the distance will save me.

“Yes, you are.” The heat causes his hair to curl even more. He rakes a hand through it, unbothered by anything that just happened. “One way or the other you are, because you’re here.”

He’s right, not that I’ll admit it.

Don’t get mixed up in Marissa’s shit. It’s the only rule I knew growing up. One that got broken thanks to Daisy. And now I’m here.

“But the good news is you no longer belong to her.” He sounds deceptively caring, especially since his next words declare, “You’re mine.”

I’d rather rot in hell.

He shakes his head, a smile gracing his lips, his jawline sharp. The water distorts the view, but his abs are rock hard, his muscles solid. Arrogant and good-looking. That’s all I know about my husband at this moment.

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