“Oh, Julia…”
His hungry gaze swept over my frame as he stepped closer. He brushed my hair behind my shoulders, the feeling of his hands on my body making my stomach churn.
“You are so beautiful. And this skin…” He lowered his mouth toward my neck, every inch he erased causing my muscles to tighten even more. “I’ve spent the past seven years fantasizing about tasting it once more.”
I fought against the scream begging to be set free when he dragged his tongue along my neck, teeth biting my flesh.
“About doing so much more than just tasting it.”
“Please, Nick,” I begged, playing the subservient wife he always wished me to be.
The subservient wife he’d manipulated me into becoming throughout our marriage.
“Let me put on this dress. See if it meets your approval.”
He lingered for a beat, then retreated. “You may continue.”
Doing my best to not show even a hint of relief, I grabbed the dress off the bed. As I was about to slip it off the hanger, Nick stopped me with a firm grip on my wrist once more.
“Has it really been so long that you’ve forgotten what I prefer?”
I blinked, brows furrowed.
Nick narrowed his gaze on my bra, skimming the blade of his knife along the material before sliding it down my stomach and along the waistband of my panties.
“No undergarments. I like access to my wife whenever and wherever I choose.”
“But Imogene will—”
The pinch of the blade digging into my hip cut me off, a whimper escaping.
“Otherwise, I’ll just have to cut them off.”
He moved the knife farther south, my entire body shaking as he used it to lift the material of my panties, ghosting it against my center. I bit my lower lip to stop my chin from quivering, panic racing through me.
“I wouldn’t want to cut something I shouldn’t. At least not yet.”
I held my breath, doing everything in my power to stop the tears from welling in my eyes as a new wave of tremors overtook me.
“O-of course,” I agreed shakily, returning my gaze to his. “No undergarments. I’ll take them off.”
He didn’t move for several moments, a sick look of satisfaction crossing his expression when he pressed the blade against me. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but enough to be borderline painful. I didn’t even want to think what Christine Griffin must have endured.
What all the women must have endured.
“Good decision,” he finally remarked.
When he pulled the knife away, I pushed out a breath, turning around and increasing the distance between us.
“Face me. I want you to look at me as you undress.”
I briefly squeezed my eyes shut, then did as he asked, my heart hammering in my chest as I reached behind my body to unclasp my bra.
“Come closer.”
Legs wobbling, I timidly closed the distance a few inches, hoping it was enough to satisfy him.
It wasn’t.