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“Your wife’s bath is ready, sir.”
Xadrian flicks his hand at Ziggy, who turns on his heel and walks out of the grand dining hall. It hurts that I cannot hug him, that he has to act like he doesn’t know me, but I understand why. Xadrian is dangerous, he is scary, and people fear him. They do not get on his bad side because they know better. I’m the only idiot who attempts something like that.
“Come, my darling. Your stomach clearly isn’t ready for food, so let’s wash that blood sucker off you so we can share a bed tonight.”
My stomach rolls as I get up, following him like a zombie to his bedroom, where he leads me to the bath. There is a woman there, one I don’t recognize. She must be a new maiden for me. One that I bet has choked on my husband’s cock a time or two, since he likes to fuck everyone, even in front of me as if I care. I mean, I did at one point. The first few times. But after a while, I became numb to that just like everything else. She can have him if she wants him. I’m not interested.
“Mizga, you may take your leave. I will bathe my wife this evening.”
I suck in a sharp breath and hope like hell he didn’t hear me. It would only give him the satisfaction he is looking for. I would rather a strange woman I don’t know who has touched my husband’s genitals to bathe me than him.
Bathing won’t be just bathing…
But I knew this would happen. I knew if I was caught, he would get me back and things would go back to how they were. No, that’s not true. They would even be worse.
My heart races, nausea building in my stomach again. I take a few slow breaths as I try to calm myself.
My thoughts keep going back to dinner and what Xadrian was going to tell me. It’s almost like he was going to warn me what he has in store for me, but what’s the point in that? Knowing him, if I ask, he won’t tell me for the sole fact that I want to know. So instead, I’m just going to live with these questions that will never be answered but will continue to plague me.
Mizga nods, then walks out of the room. Her footsteps are quiet and when the bedroom door is closed, Xadrian turns to me.
“Let’s get you clean.”
I stand there, going somewhere else in my mind as Xadrian undresses me. I feel like a mannequin, only moving my limbs when he has me do so to get my shirt off or my pants off. When I’m standing there, completely naked, him looking at me like I belong to him, I swear I want to die.
How did I deal with this for so long?
I should have killed him in his sleep. Or at least attempted to, because I mean, how do you kill a demon? They just come back. And if I were to kill him and he came back to find me? I think he’d be even more angry than he is right now. That would be the ultimate disrespect, making him look weak. If word got out that a woman, especially his wife, killed him? No doubt many other people would try to kill him too and take over his territory. You know, the same thing he tried doing to my father. Only my father is also the lowest of the low demons and decided to give me to Xadrian instead, considering he feels his life is more important than mine. And this was after Xadrian killed my younger brother.
Fucking male demons…
Xadrian takes my hand and leads me to the large bath that is built into the floor the way an in-ground pool would be. It’s large, able to fit many people in it. Why it’s needed, I don’t know. Bathtub orgies, I suppose. I step over the lip that is slightly raised and settle into the water. It’s the perfect temperature and I sigh as I lean back, feeling just a moment of comfort. It won’t last for long, I know that, and enjoying it while it’s here is dangerous. It only makes me want it more. But comfort isn’t something I will get from my husband or in this castle. Comfort is something I’m sure I will never see again.
I wait to feel his hands on me, knowing there is no way he will allow me to wash myself. It’s a control thing, a way to shame me. But that isn’t what comes. Instead, the water sloshes and I open my eyes, shocked when I see him naked and getting into the bath.
“What are you doing?” I ask, regretting the words the second they leave my lips.
“Bathing with my wife,” he answers as if what I said didn’t anger him. I know it did. How dare I question him?
I knew he would wash me, but I hadn’t anticipated this… this is so much worse.
Xadrian sits beside me and pulls me onto his lap without warning and without asking. I gasp as I go, then cringe when I feel his body beneath mine. Thank the gods he isn’t hard.
At least, not yet. He will be by the end of this. The only thing that gets him off is torture and pain.
So unlike Felix who was so responsive to me, so into me… He touched me because he wanted to, because he couldn’t help it. His touch wasn’t to hurt me or to cause pain. It was to give me pleasure, which isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. Yes, I’ve had orgasms. A lot. But I’ve never enjoyed them outside of my body’s natural response to do so. They were never for me, but instead for the men who caused them. As if they should be proud of themselves for making it happen, when, if you do it right, isn’t all that difficult. After those times, all I felt was shame, embarrassment, and disgust. Until eventually, like everything else, it all turned numb.
Xadrian’s hands come out of the water, running up my arms and over my shoulder.
“You are tense,” he says softly. “Let’s see if we can get you to relax.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing what comes next. The man thinks he has the right to touch me because I belong to him. Because I’m his wife. Apparently it’s my duty to allow him full access to my body at all times—especially when I don’t want it.
The number of nights I woke up to him inside me, the many occasions I was trying to read or relax and he demanded I get on my knees… there are too many to count.
And this will just be another to add to the pile of things that makes me hate him.
Xadrian grabs the soap from the soap dish beside us, dunks it in the water, then scrubs his hands together forming bubbles. He runs his hands—the soap in his left one so he can use the right to grab and squeeze whatever part of me he wants—along my chest. He moves to my shoulders, back down and over my breasts. I hiss when he pinches my nipple, accidentally jerking in the water and brushing against him.
