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He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a deep frown between his eyebrows as he looks over me.
“And stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m about to shatter into a million pieces.”
“Bianca…”
I freeze at the sound of my name on his lips.
“You are far from fragile.”
“Then why won’t you touch me?”
“Because the first time I fuck my wife, I want her to be sober. I want to know it’s her wanting me, not the alcohol.”
My eyes flick up to meet Alexei’s, and it’s clear how he would take me.
There would be nothing gentle about it.
I fight a moan as I imagine him bending me over the edge of this bed and sinking so deep inside me I might break in two.
“I will not ask you a third time, solnyshka. Go to bed.”
I scowl as his words break through my lust-filled fantasy.
To show my annoyance, I grab the comforter off the bed and tuck a pillow under my arm, intent on sleeping as far away from my husband as possible.
Though, I don’t make it far.
Alexei grips hold of my arm as I pass through the door.
“Bed. Now.”
I glance up at him, narrowing my eyes at his commanding tone.
“No.”
He lets out a long breath, any amusement at my disobedience now replaced with irritation.
“If you are so adamant not to share a bed with me tonight, that’s fine. But I will be the one taking the couch,” He reaches for the pillow tucked under my arm.
I blink, too stunned to fight him as he reaches for the comforter.
“Good night, wife,” he murmurs before stalking away toward the couch.
6
BIANCA
Despite the plush bed and silk sheets, my sleep brings little relief to my racing thoughts. I wake multiple times, confused about where I am. Then when I realize, the events of the previous day come flooding back, and I’m left feeling empty and alone despite Alexei being in the next room.
It’s likely he didn’t bother getting a separate room for fear I might make a run for it in the middle of the night. But realistically, where would I go? My studio? Zara’s apartment?
I almost laugh at the thought of turning up at Zara’s place in the middle of the night, informing her that I’m on the run from my new husband who also happens to be the head of one of the most powerful crime families in the city.
She’d think I had drunk a bottle of tequila, and from the pounding in my head, so would I.
