Page 61 of Viparious

Her voice is harsh, like a whip calling my attention back to her.

“What, and I mean this deeply, in the fuck do you think you’re doing turning up here covered in fucking blood?”

I know the layout of the building and ignore the question to go into the adjoining bathroom and wet a hand towel. She’s still standing in the same spot when I come out, and her eyes widen as I walk towards her. Inessa attempts to move back, and I delicately hold her jaw as I clean her cheek and focus on what’s important.

“You don’t put yourself in danger, meelaya, Ana’s job is to protect you, not the other way around.”

She grabs my t-shirt and pulls it up, exposing my body as she spits out. “We’re talking aboutthis, nothing else. What I do is none of your fucking concern.”

My fingers flex around the delicate bone, and I pull her closer, being careful to make sure no part of her body touches mine. My jaw aches as I try to hold back the anger inside of me.

“You. Are. Still. My. Wife.”

It comes out stilted and broken up, but the stubborn brat copies me, making me lose some of my rage.

“Not. For. Long.”

She will always best me in everything I do, twist it around to have me the loser, all while she rises to the top to sit on her throne with her chin held proudly.

Fuck, I miss her. I miss the way she’d talk and never shut up. How she’d wrap her arms around my neck. Or lay her head on my shoulder. I hate that I don’t know if she cries and there’s no one for her to push her nose against if she does.

A blinding, wonder-filled smile takes over her face, and she looks down at her swollen belly. A little foot kicks out as she strokes across the bump, and my eyes close because it’s in my periphery, and I can’t have them. I don’t open them as I turn her around to prevent temptation. Or as I kiss under her ear and hold her thighs to stop my hands from feeling the same thing she does. My voice lowers to a plea as I remain hidden.

“Don’t put yourself in danger, meely moy, ever again. Don’t argue with me about it, just make sure you’re safe.”

Both of you.

Her soft lips brush my cheek as she turns her head and calls a truce to her hate.

“Okay, I won’t.”

Fuck, I can breathe, and I allow my lungs to fully inflate. I need her to be safe, happy and safe. Not blue. She peels my hands off her thighs and turns to face me. I can feel her eyes on me before I blink, and worry marks her beautiful features. It increases as she looks at me from head to toe, then breaks into an accusation.

“You’re not wearing a suit.”

I nod and cup her face with both hands, my thumbs stroking across her cheekbones as I commit her face to memory. One hand is free from the pink stain, the other is coated in it. My voice lowers as I continue pleading with her.

“Promise me you’ll be happy.”

She doesn’t answer and holds my wrists to take my hands off her. Ice sets into my veins until she guides me to sit down on the sofa between two bookcases.

She doesn’t complain about the blood on me as she sits on my thigh and strokes my hair back. My hands remain limp at my sides, my body shutting down function to the limbs to prevent me from tainting either of them. Her soft voice floats against my lips as she begs, “Talk to me. Maybe we don’t have to hate each other.”

I don’t hate her. I wish I did. I’d give anything to hate her, maybe then I wouldn’t be consumed with dread that I’ve already ruined her. The words don’t leave me though. If I let it out of the box I’ve created in my mind, it will rip everything apart, ripmeapart.

My weakness and my strength.

Inessa doesn’t stop attempting to coax it out of me and she shifts uncomfortably on my thigh. Everything sinks. It’s the same reason as the others, the ones who would meet my eyes, but I give into it as I softly press my lips to hers, giving her at least one thing that she wants.

The physical is easier, it won’t burn, and she moans into my mouth as I stroke up her thigh with my clean hand. I don’t allow myself to touch anything more than her thighs as I attempt to reposition her so her back is against my chest. I can’t fuck her with the blood on my skin. I can’t taint her and burden her body with my filth.

But she doesn’t let me and hardens, pressing her hands flat against my chest and standing to her full height. Her eyes are filled with disgust, at me, she knows, and she’s disgusted now.

“I want the truth, not your tongue feeding me lies. I won’t be your mistress any longer. It’s not fair on either me or the woman you’ve given your heart.”

I nod and stand. I have no intention of leaving, but she moves out of my path as I reach for her face again. My voice turns rough, and I force everything away to say, “Don’t hold Ana back again.” Then I leave and walk the fuck away from her while she’s still awake.

EIGHTEEN

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