Page 26 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

His gaze sweeps over my body, shamelessly logging every flaw and pore. Beautiful like Briar, he said? I’m not sure if he still has that opinion by the time our eyes reconnect.

“Lie down.”

His voice seizes control of my limbs, and I take two steps back until my calves strike the mattress. Still facing him, I start to lower myself, but he frowns, irritated. Then he crosses the distance between us and shoves me down himself. Dazed, I blink up at the ceiling, tasting more blood on my tongue as wetness coats my neck. I’ll ruin his sheets, but something tells me he doesn’t mind.

He watches me bleed, nodding in satisfaction. “I want you to think about your husband, Little One,” he says. “I want you to remember every twisted, sordid thing he’s done to your body. Every way he’s used you…”

It’s a terrible request. My mind has more than enough ammunition to spawn a million nightmares. But does he know that? Looking at him, I can’t tell. Maybe consent is such a foreign concept to him that he takes it for granted that most men ignore it altogether.

“Now…imagine me doing those things to you. All of them. Every last one.” The malice in his voice doesn’t match the involuntary way his eyes flicker across my naked chest. Quickly. As if nothing holds his interest—or he doesn’t want it to. “Think about it until I come back and I hope you reconsider your silence.”

Despair renders me boneless as he leaves the room, locking the door behind him. Then…something twisted enough to call amusement sets in. Imagine him as Robert? It’s as easy as swapping out one monster for another. Or is it?

My eyes shut against the memories, but nothing short of unconsciousness can keep them at bay. My husband dishes out pain in exchange for his pleasure, and heneverlet me forget my role:his. When he touches me, I feel nothing but shame. Fear. Panic.

Never…fire. This man inspires a new terror I don’t know how to fathom. I’ve grown so used to Robert. I can endure his routine. I can survive his games—Mischa is a dangerous anomaly. Were I given the choice between the two of them, is it really that hard to pick who I’d prefer?

No. I’d pick Robert. The known is always better than the unknown.

Always.

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