Page 53 of Savage Beauty

But it’s not. I can feel it in the air, see it in his stony expression. He seems like a man divided, pulled in opposite directions, though he’s trying to mask it.

“You don’tlookfine.”

His eyes dart away, unable to meet mine. Whoisthis man? Where’s the arrogance, the sardonic remarks, the warmth in his velvet voice? My husband may not always think things through but faces problems with his ever-present wit and quick, sure decisions. He always knows what to do, but now he seems lost, and it frightens me.

He’s my protector, my solid foundation, the one who never wavers. But right now, it’s as though the solid ground below us is crumbling away.

“Please.” I reach for his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles, every sinew taught. “You can tell me.”

He looks at me, and I see the ambivalence in him. It’s as though he’s on the verge of saying something, of letting the truth spill out, but then he closes his eyes and pulls away from me.

“It’s just bratva business,” he says, his tone flat. “You need to leave it alone.”

His words are simple, but the dismissal cuts deep.

“Sasha, if this affects you so much, I need to understand. I can’t just stand by and watch you suffer.”

“Not your call,” he says. He gets to his feet and removes his shirt, popping a button in his haste. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen. You’re safe now. Tosca won’t be a problem, and you can do what the fuck you like.”

“You’re really doing this,” I say softly, fighting to hold back tears. “I don’t believe you mean that. After everything you put me through, you’re pushing me away?”

He stares at me for a moment before turning away. His shoulders sag, and I fight a surge of panic.

Maybe we’re not safe after all. Something happened this morning’s meeting that left Sasha rattled, but he’s closed up tight. The wall I worked so hard to break down is taller and more impenetrable than ever. As he turns back to face me, I see the tortured face of a man who loves me but wishes he didn’t.

But the more he pushes me away, the more I want to understand whatever’s tormenting him. I’m not a delicate flower, and I won’t be sidelined—he made me marry him, but it’s so much more than that now. He made mefallfor him, and despite his complex, intense nature, I want to stay by his side.

You’re his lighthouse, Josie.Dulcie’s words echo in my thoughts.His sanctuary.

I climb out of bed and go to him. He’s frozen in place, his eyes willing me to keep my distance, but I ignore his body language and close the space, putting my arms around his waist. He tenses but doesn’t attempt to resist, and I press my body to his. Maybe my body under his hands will exorcise whatever demon is on his back and bring the loving man I know back to me.

“Only you could say and do the things you did yesterday, only to be a different person today,” I murmur.

I kiss his collarbone, and he flinches. I decide to go for broke; it’s risky, but any reaction is better than this.

“You know,” I continue, reaching up to smooth his hair with my palm, “you’re probably right. Maybe this has all been a stupid mistake. I’d be better off with a nice man. One who makes gentle love to me, asks permission, takes it slow—”

Sasha’s frustration breaks through, and he grabs my throat with a roar. His other hand flies to my ass, smashing my hips to his, and I feel his hardness already digging into my core.

“You belong to me, and you fucking know it,” he breathes, walking me backward toward the bed. “How can you say this shit to me, Josie? You don’t know what I’ve done. What I still have to do.”

What the hell does he mean?

I get no opportunity to ask. He squeezes my neck, and as my mouth drops open, he lowers his face to mine, breathing in my gasp. I moan as he kisses me deeply, working his tongue into my mouth, and my body goes limp with longing.

“I’m ruining my life,” he whispers against my lips. “Yours too. How did we get here, Josie? What have I done to you?”

His words disturb me. There’s a desperation to his movements, too; he grips me too tightly, and his kisses are too devouring, but I can’t get enough. It’s as though he wants to possess me enough to last a lifetime. It wasn’t like this even yesterday when his touch felt like fire. This time, it’s an inferno, raging dangerously out of control.

We fall back into the pillows. My body quivers with anticipation as he towers over me, his eyes blazing with a hunger that’s both beautiful and terrifying.

Sasha takes my nightshirt in his hands, shredding it to ribbons with a ripping sound. I want to protest his roughness, but the words won’t come. I start to tremble, partly out of fear but mostly because I want this wildness. His are the only hands in the world that can make me feel safe, but tonight his control feels like it’s hanging by a thread, and the tension makes everything feel heightened, focused.

Sasha lifts my wrists above my head, pinning them with one hand. He takes his time, strategizing his next move as he surveys my naked body inch by inch. His gaze feels like a caress, and soon, I’m squirming beneath him in desperate longing.

Finally, he moves in for the kill. His free hand slides down the length of my body till it rests between my legs, and there’s no holding back now. He works me expertly, his movements rigorous enough to make me cry out in pleasure.

Through the haze of sensation, I’m aware that he’s not saying anything. I expect to hear him utter the dirty words that quicken my reactions and hasten me toward my climax, but no. His movements become more urgent and desperate as he moves lower down my body, planting passionate, bruising kisses along the way until he reaches my pussy.

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