Page 27 of Bloody Vows
I turn to face him, and there's something different about his demeanor now. The careful politeness he maintained during the reception is gone, replaced by something harder, more determined. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. We're married now, Simone. Married couples share a bedroom."
"Not all married couples. Plenty of people have separate bedrooms?—"
"We're not plenty of people." He's moved closer, and I can see the green fire in his eyes. I don’t know if the heat is fromanger or something else, and my heart beats rabbit-fast behind my ribs, my brain urging me to flee. "We're husband and wife, and there are certain expectations that come with that."
I draw in a slow breath. "Expectations?"
His voice is cool, calm. "Consummation isn't optional."
The word hangs in the air between us like a blade, sharp and fatal. I've known this moment was coming. I’ve been dreading it since the day Konstantin delivered his ultimatum, but hearing it stated so bluntly still makes my breath catch.
"I'm tired," I manage, grasping for any excuse to delay the inevitable. "It's been a long day. Surely we could?—"
"No." He shakes his head, and there's something almost regretful in his expression. "This has to happen tonight, Simone. You know that as well as I do."
I do know it. A marriage that isn't consummated can be annulled, and annulment would put me right back where I started—unprotected and at the mercy of whoever decided to claim me next. But knowing something intellectually and being ready for it emotionally are two very different things.
"Fine," I say, lifting my chin with as much dignity as I can muster. "Let's get it over with. The master suite, you said?" My only defense is to shrug it off as if I don’t care. To refuse to give him a reaction.
Something flickers across his face—surprise, maybe, or disappointment. "Get it over with?"
"Isn't that what you want? To fuck me so you can officially claim ownership of everything that belonged to my father?" The crude words taste bitter on my tongue, but I force them out anyway. "So let's do it. Let's complete this business transaction."
For a moment, he just stares at me. Then, to my complete shock, he laughs.
It's not a cruel laugh or a mocking one. It's genuinely amused, like I've said something that delights him rather thaninsults him. The sound is rich and warm, and it does something strange to my insides that I don't want to examine too closely.
“At least you’re fighting back again.”
“I’m not.” I offer him a saccharine smile. “I’m giving in. Let’s go, Tristan. Let’s go upstairs so you can fuck me.”
“That’s not…” He pauses, as if I’ve thrown him off, and I feel a small flush of victory.
"Isn't it? You said yourself that you married me for my territory. That I was just a nice bonus that came with the deal." I throw his own words back at him, wanting to hurt him. "So congratulations, you got your bonus. Now you get to fuck a woman who was bought for you by daddy and Konstantin."
The smile fades from his face, and something dangerous flashes in his eyes. "Careful,célie. That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?” I taunt. “Are you going to punish me for speaking the truth?"
His mouth tenses. “Don’t tempt me, Simone.”
He closes in on me then, in a few quick strides, backing me up until I’m at the very edge of the stairs. I can’t take a step backwards, or I’ll trip. “I’m not going to lose what I worked for,” he murmurs, his voice low and insistent. “This is the way the world works, Simone. I take you to bed, and you’re officially my wife. I’m not going to lose?—”
“Fucking a woman that your daddy bought for you isn’t working for anything.” I keep that too-sweet smile on my face. “It’s just doing as you’re told.”
“I’ll change your mind,” he purrs, his voice low and husky. “Eventually. You won’t be able to keep this charade up forever, Simone. You can’t always pretend?—”’
“I’m not pretending anything.” I force my voice to remain steady, to not sound as uncertain as I feel. “Let’s go, Tristan. I want to go to bed.”
He smirks. “To bed? Or?—”
“Sleep,” I clarify. “So let’s get this over with.”
I can tell he hates it, every time I say that. His jaw tightens, his eyes flaring, as if he can’t stand the thought that I’m going to stare at the ceiling and pretend I’m doing anything but fucking him.
“Over with,” he repeats, again. And then, before I can breathe or say another word, he reaches down, scooping me into his arms with a suddenness that makes an undignified squeak escape from my lips.
