Chapter 61

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“You are so beautiful.” Fingers trailed over my healing back, caressing the wounds that I knew were going to scar. My eyes blinked slowly. It was becoming routine to wake up this way. Every morning for almost a week, I’d heard the same thing. Heard the same wooing tone of his voice as he kissed around, and now over his marks. “Lay with me, wife.

Hold me.”

West was already rolling me to face him—pulling me into his arms as he kissed my forehead, nose, and then lips. My hand settled on his bare side, sliding to dangle behind him so I wasn’t necessarily having to put intimacy into my action. I was sick with the hate. Sick of having to pretend I wasn’t confused by what was happening to me from his affection. Maybe I was just getting ill in general.

“What would you like to do today? Whatever you want.”

My eyes rose at his loving behavior. It’d been this way since he’d given me the lashes. Since I’d given in and let him use the oil on me afterward. Limp and semi-unconscious he had placed me on my stomach and had sex with my marred body. And for three nights, I had let it continue without a fight. Then, it stopped. Maybe he’d gotten his fill of the oil and decided he liked my responsiveness more. Or maybe it was losing its excitement. I didn’t want to know. I was past the point of caring how he used me. To fight would have just been punishing myself. But was it punishing anymore?

“You’ve been very good,” he continued. “You name it and we’ll do it. Or maybe you’d like me to buy you something? How about jewelry? Or new clothes and shoes?”

My head shook and I kept quiet. Let him think I was sad or upset. That seemed to make him care about me for some odd reason. Not that I wanted him so nice. It was messing with me. Ruining me.

“You do have too many clothes, anyway. How about …” He paused, getting quiet while he began to stroke his finger down the back of my shoulder. “How about a picnic and some ice cream, later?”

“In City Center? With all the rape and torture going on down there?”

His brow drew in at my words. “You’re right. That won’t work.”

“Just hold me,” I breathed out. “I don’t want anything. I don’t feel so well.”

Silence stretched while I stayed tucked away in my safe place inside my head. I could almost believe I was in Bram’s arms. That he was holding me and this was just a dream. Bram … “Popcorn.”

“What’s that?”

West pulled back to look at me as I blinked through the memory that suddenly swept through. “I want some popcorn. I love popcorn. Can I have some?”

“This early?”

“Is it okay?”

He paused, but laughed, pulling me back in. “Of course. I’ll get up and make coffee. Eli can go pick you some up.

“Thank you.” Maybe it was a small fuck you to West—to me for feeling I was betraying Bram with the unwanted emotions. But I had to have it.

I kissed West’s chest, staying in my wifely role. When he pulled back the covers to stand and leave the room, I eased from the bed, dropping to the ground to look underneath. I’d searched countlessly for Bram’s black book and I couldn’t find it anywhere. West came close to catching me once. I blamed it on the matching outfits, but I wouldn’t let this go. I had to find where he hid it. I had to see what Lyle felt was so important for me to read. It ate at me, every minute, every day. It was driving me crazy … or perhaps, I had already lost it. I couldn’t think about that. I wouldn’t.

I squinted through the dimness, wanting to scream as I was met with nothing. Lightheadedness hit and I held to the bed as I stood. The book couldn’t be in the apartment. There was no way. Where in the hell was he keeping it?

Over and over the question repeated in my mind as I went through my morning routine. By the time I managed to dress, I could barely think at all. The fog was getting worse.

“For my wife.”

West held out a bag before him and the smell and memories drew me in, sickeningly. I took two steps when the smile melted from his face.

He brought the bag back into his chest, reaching in and grabbing a handful. My pulse spiked, nearly making me drop from the adrenaline. Had I told him about the popcorn with Bram? No. I had to stop worrying. He didn’t know.

“Come here.”

Fear and guilt begged me to run. To cower and brace myself for a beating or rape like I’d never experienced before. My desperation for the smallest part of Bram—for reigniting the devotion to only him—sent me forward.

“Open your mouth.”

My fists clenched as I waited for him to slam my mouth full of popcorn. To make me choke to death on it for once again putting Bram before him. But was I anymore? The fact that I felt uncomfortable with this weird attraction told me something wasn’t right. The lashing hadn’t just scarred my body. With the tearing of my skin, West had somehow imprinted himself deep inside of me. Where I should have detested him more, something wasn’t allowing me to. My fear? My slave? I didn’t know.

My hold on Bram’s love led me forward. I was ready to take the abuse for my loyalty and prepared myself. Instead of anger, West slowly reached back in, pulling out a single piece. I didn’t dare close my eyes until the taste registered on my tongue. My lips eased over the tips of West’s fingers and flashes blinded me. Flashes of hunger and fascination. Of Bram.

“That’s good,” I said, savoring the taste and memories.

“Perfect. Take another.”

And I did. Despite my lack of appetite, I let West feed me. Minutes went by and back and forth he and Bram twisted my mind. They merged as one, stroking down my face between bites. Smiling down at me. It was so real that when West spoke, Bram didn’t disappear right away. It was his voice that I heard. His eyes suddenly burned into me, screaming with anger and betrayal. It made me blink hard and jump back.

“Are you okay?”