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I don’t have a ring for Dez.
I don’t have anything for the man, but I’m supposed to tie my life to his?
“Excuse me,” I whisper and rush to the bathroom, closing the door quietly and locking it.
Searching discreetly through the drawers, trying to suffocate the panic building inside me, I find what I’m looking for and sit down in the shower. The wet floor soaks my skirt, but I hardly notice.
Closing my eyes, I breathe steadily in an effort to get control of my anxiety. I already know it won’t work, but I have to do something because if I do what I want, Dez will be so disappointed in me.
I hear someone knocking on the door, calling my name. I ignore them, focusing on my breathing until I can’t anymore. Until the need to cut deep enough that I bleed out is all I can picture. A flow of crimson rolling down the drain. The stain of red on that beautiful white dress, waiting for me to put it on. The stench of copper and iron. The blood is pumping in my ears as I place the razor I found against the inside of my thigh and begin slicing.
The sting is familiar, the warmth of blood flow welcoming.
I do it again, rubbing the fluid into my skin as I watch transfixed as it drips into the undried water beneath me. Diluting my life force as it fades from crimson to a pale red.
When the door crashes open, I feel drunk as I lift my head to meet the angry stare of Dez. My future husband. The man I’ll spend my life with.
“Help me,” I gasp when he slams the door shut behind him, cutting the rest of the world off from my hell.
Storming over, he drops to his knees between my open legs, rips the razor from my grasp, and tosses it to the trash can. The pinging sound of metal-on-metal rings through the room. His warm fingers graze across the lacerated flesh of my thigh, dragging the tiny droplets of blood along the same path.
“What happened?” he asks, and my gaze drops. I can’t tell him; he’d never understand. Rough fingers grip my chin, controlling my head. “Tell me,” he commands with fire in his eyes. I begin to shake my head when he grips me tighter. Painfully, bruisingly, Dez drags me into his body. “Now!” I flinch at his shout.
“They’re so nice,” I whisper, hissing when I feel the blade of his favorite curved knife drawing along my flesh. “I feel…unworthy.” I whimper when I realize he’s rewarding me by releasing my fears with each confession I lay bare. “I don’t think I know how to accept this life.” Gasping when I feel the fresh trickles of blood sliding down my thigh, I can’t help moaning when Dez’s fingers trail the liquid between my legs. “Are we sick?” I ask when his fingers circle my clit, creating a pleasureful friction I’m not prepared for.
“Yes,” he responds, and shame flushes through my body. “But that’s okay because nobody else needs to understand. This is us.” He nudges the blade into my hand and begins to remove his pants. When they’re pushed down, he brings my hand to his thigh and helps me drag the bloodied knife across his skin. “I won’t ever hurt you,malen’ka ptashka.” I nod in acknowledgment as I stare down at his legs.
“But I hurt you,” I murmur, reaching forward to touch his blood like he has mine.
His fingers move from between my legs so he can hold my head in both hands, tilting it back until it hurts. His obsidian eyes search my face, and finding, or maybe not finding, what he’s looking for, he slants his lips across mine. Giving me more than he’ll ever know. I love the feel and taste of this man, who, on the outside, is scarier than any I’ve ever met, but on the inside, he just wants me to be his.
Our tongues collide, and a shockwave of pleasure jolts through my body as he drags me up so I’m more level with him. He holds me tightly and doesn’t release me even when neither of us can breathe. Our teeth clash as he deepens the kiss, a groan working up his throat when I dig my fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands until I can inhale the tiniest breath.
“You’re mine, Liliya,malen’ka ptshashka, all fucking mine, and nothing is ever going to change that.” He sounds so confident. “Now, tell me what really had you spiraling.” How effortlessly he can read me.
“I don’t have a ring for you.” That’s my final confession.
Tugging me to my feet, he tears my clothes off and sits me on the cool marble of the counter. Spreading my thighs, he drops to his knees in front of me, circling my opening. I whimper and try to hide from him, but he won’t let me. Wrenching my legs farther open with his hips, Dez crowds me against the mirror behind my back.
“This is my ring. Around my fingers, my tongue, my dick, this is the only ring I need, Liliya.” I believe him because he worships my tiny opening with a gentleness I didn’t think he possessed.
“But how…” I coo when his thumb flicks across my clit, stealing my breath.
“How what?” he breathes into my neck, nipping the flesh.
Swallowing nervously, I hold him to me. “How will the world know you’re mine, too?” He pauses in his movements. “Don’t stop, Dez, please.”
Latching onto my neck with his teeth, my body jolts when he delves two fingers into my core, stroking me until I see stars, until my body seizes, and a flood of ecstasy overtakes me. Before I can release the scream that’s built up in my throat, he slaps a hand across my mouth and pulls away to watch me come apart for him.
“Every time I think I couldn’t love you anymore, I do, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like typical love. It’s more. It’s something I can’t identify, and Liliya, you have to know-” Sucking my taste off his fingers, Dez grips my jaw tightly. “I can’t ever let you go, even if it’s what you want. I’llneverlet you go. Do you understand me?” The intensity in his eyes should be terrifying. I should be plotting my escape because if he’s saying what I think he’s saying, I should be scared out of my mind.
Instead, my heart grows for him, my bodyachesfor his. “Dez,” I say his name softly so he’ll drag his gaze away from my bare body. “If you ever think you can leave me,” I pause, and his eyes thunder passionately. “I’ll kill you too.”
FIFTEEN
DEZ
Too. Many. People.
