Page 7 of Liar's Heart
I turn to face him fully, steeling myself for the fight I’m about to start. “I was under the impression we'd have separate bedrooms.”
His eyebrows rise in shock, but the smirk ghosting his mouth gives him away. “What gave you that impression?”
“The fact that we barely know each other?” I can’t believe I’m having to spell this out for him. “I can’t think of one married Society couple who shares a room.”
He considers this for a moment, choosing his words carefully when he responds. “Barely knowing each other is part of why we should share a room. It’s hard to become better acquainted with someone if you don’t spend any time together. And I’m not in the habit of modeling my behavior after what the Society deems conventional. Did your parents have separate bedrooms?”
“Yes, they did.” It comes out like I think that’s a stupid question. Which, to be fair, is correct.
One of his eyebrows hikes. “Yeah, mine too. And I have zero interest in my own marriage resembling theirs in any way.” His eyes go to the ceiling, and he lets out a sigh. Then those misty eyes drop back down to mine, and he takes a step toward me. Quiet sincerity fills his voice. “We could be happy, you know. We could actually stand a chance at being happy together and not just tolerating each other.”
It's a little sliver of hope he's showing me. A soft, vulnerable spot I can sink my claws into. And I know the smart way to play this is to nurture that hope into something more easily exploitable, but right when I’m about to strategically acquiesce, I catch a flash of hunger in his eyes and a memory from last night barrels through my mind.
Straddling my bare-chested husband on the sofa, my fingers finally tangle in those soft, dark waves of his hair, roughing it upbefore they trail down his neck and gently stroke the sphinx’s wings inked into his skin. Both of his hands are under his shirt on me, firmly planted on my ass, guiding my wet pussy up and down the hard ridge of his cock. He’s still in his suit trousers, and the friction from the soft wool on my clit has me whimpering. It feels so good, especially in contrast to the little bites of pain his fingertips are digging into my skin. Part of me hopes that when I examine my skin in the morning, I’ll find five small bruises fanned across each cheek, ones that perfectly align with the span of his large, warm hands.
I need more points of contact with him, to press my skin against his and feel his heat seep into me, warming all the cold, dead things inside. I trace his skin with my panted breaths as I wrap my body around his. His nose burrows into the crook of my neck, and I feel him unashamedly inhaling the scent of my skin muddled with the cologne on his shirt. “Fuck,” he groans into the tangle of hair and sweat-misted skin at the base of my ear. “You smell like me, baby. I love that you smell like you’re mine.”
On second thought… “I need personal space, Ender. Space that's mine.”
That sends him prowling closer to me, gesturing with one hand around the room as he talks. "You have an entire half of a bed. Half of a walk-in closet. A dresser, nightstand, most of the storage in the bathroom, an office, not to mention the entirety of the rest of this house, all of my other properties, and everything else I have to my name. I’ll let you pick the side of the bed you sleep on. I’ll let you redecorate every inch of this house as you see fit. I’d raze the whole thing and let you build whatever pleased you on top of its ashes, even. Baby, there's plenty of space for you, and you’re not going to get any more of it running from me. You’re my wife. You’ll eat at my table and sleep in my bed. That’s nonnegotiable.”
My eyes slide from his face to the bed and back again, knowing we never even made it to the bed before things got out of control last night. “And sex? Is sex nonnegotiable too?”
A lupine smile unfurls across his face. “Sex is alwaysnegotiable, Merrick, and usually the better for it,” he half teases. Lust darkens his eyes, chasing away all traces of humor. “I meant what I said last night. Once you let me in, you won’t be able to get me back out. Remember that when you’re to the point of begging.”
My pussy throbs at his words, remembering how good he felt, even with layers of fabric separating us. “And you really think I’ll beg you for it?” I quip back, aiming for bravado but missing the mark when my voice comes out too breathy and thin.
I lift my chin in an attempt to salvage some of my pride, not realizing my mistake until it’s too late. I exposed my neck to a hungry predator. Before I can react, he surges forward, so much faster than I knew he was capable of moving. A calloused palm slides up my neck before his fingers wrap around my jawline. His grip is firm but not malicious, only meant to keep my face angled to his, his fingertips far gentler than I know they’re capable of being. Lust coils low in my belly at the display of dominance, and I see it in his eyes the moment he senses my response.
Ender leans in, his mouth so close to mine I taste his murmured words as much as I hear them. His eyes dip down to my parted lips, watching me gulp down big swallows of air like it’ll keep me from drowning in him. “I do. I do think you’ll beg for it. Because that’s the only way you’re going to get what you want.”
Storm-dark eyes clash with mine, pinning me in place as he lands his final blow. “As much as you love to fight—as much as I love your fight—you and I both know that deep down inside, you want nothing more than to be my good little wife and whore, and good little whores get down on their knees and beg for what they want. Ask me nicely, and I just might give it to you.”
He gives my neck a gentle squeeze, then removes his hand and retreats to the door. Sighing, he says, “I’m going to gotake care of some things. I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything before then, call or text me.”
My brows furrow. “I’ll text Jules—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a firm shake of his head.
“You’ll call or textme.” He leaves, closing the door softly behind him. And even though he’s made good on his word and given me the space I requested, I still feel completely surrounded by him, his words leaving me unsettled long after he’s gone.
Hours later, I lie awake in the dark, listening to the sound of Ender’s steady breathing next to me, and wonder if I should just put an end to all of this and slit his throat. And then I try not to think about why I can’t seem to make myself reach for the knife waiting for me under the mattress.
“I still thinkyou should let me figure out how to get you out of it.” Jules's ponytail bounces with the force of her decisive nod. We’re working on settling into our new office, which so far amounts to Jules telling me about her latest organizational system while I decorate. I’m almost done with the bookshelf I’ve been playing with, and she knows I have to leave soon for a meeting with Alec. Logan couldn’t talk him into pushing the meeting out any further, with Alec citing his displeasure that we wouldn’t pay him a visit the day we got home from the wedding.
“I don’t think there’s any benefit to it. He’s going to insist on seeing me right away to make sure I know I’m under his thumb now. If I push back, he’ll find a way to ambush us. At least this way, I might get to scope out the house a little.”
She sighs and sits down on the chaise next to where I’m kneeling, blowing a wayward piece of hair out of her face. “Fair. But!”—she punctuates with a pointed finger—“I still don’t like it.”
“Add it to the list, I guess.”
Her head tilts as she watches me arrange, then rearrange,a stack of books until I’ve decided which way I want them. “Any objectives for your visit today I should know about?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m too new. Everyone will be paying close attention to me, and I doubt I’ll be left alone. Today’s about appeasing Alec, unfortunately.”
“Anything you need me to work on here while you’re out?” she asks. I can tell from her tone she doesn’t mean prepping contracts or returning emails.
“I’m going to need access to Ender’s study sooner or later. I think he’d let me in if I asked, but if there are passcodes or anything, it’d be nice to start digging for those now. And find out how well it’s monitored inside and out. Where the cameras are, if we can get into them and loop the feed… You know the drill.”
“You… think he’d just… let you walk into his study? Like… his personal study. The one room in this house most likely to have anything incriminating in it.”
