Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I smile down at him and shrug. “I feel safe with you. Close, even.” He smiles up at me now. “I mean, you’re my husband, right? I’m sure we’ve done more than that.” Even as I say it I can feel my face heat.
The smile slips from his face a fraction. “I need to feed you.” He stands and cups my face. He turns my head each way, looking at the cut and bruise. Then he leans forward, kissing each. My breath hitches at the sweetness. He’s showing me what kind of husband he is, and I feel even more at ease now.
Yeah, I’m so safe with him. How could I not be?
Chapter Five
Orlando
I lead her down the stairs, her hand locked tight in mine. What the fuck was I thinking? She looked so frightened sitting there in my bed, so when she asked if I was her husband I’d said yes thinking it might put her more at ease.
Lie, my subconscious says. I push it away. I know I’m enjoying her thinking I’m her husband too much. When she’d asked and I confirmed, she took it so easily. She smiled at me and looked to me for everything. Even when she was scared she jumped right on me.
She didn’t notice my scars or ask about them. I’d actually forgotten about them until I stepped into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself.
“What would you like to eat?” I ask her as we enter the kitchen. I lead her over to the island and put her in the chair.
“I’m not sure. Don’t you know what I like?” she asks as her eyes dart around the kitchen, taking it all in. I do the same. The place could use an update. Everything is dark wood and it feels rich and warm. I remember my mom redoing the place when I was young, so I’m sure by modern standards it’s outdated. It’s something I’ve never given thought to before. Until now. I want her to like it here.
“It needs a modern touch. You can change anything you want.” It rolls right off my tongue, catching me off-guard, but I realize it’s the truth. She could change anything she wanted, but she isn't really my wife. When she finds out about my lie she’ll leave me. Leave this life and go back to where it is she came from.
My body tenses. Not just at the thought of her leaving me, but at where she’d be going back to. I know she doesn't want to go back. She’d been running. I tell myself this makes what I’m doing okay. I’m protecting her. Maybe she’ll never remember and she’ll stay here forever. Or maybe I could make her like it here so much she’ll never want to leave once she does remember. Then I won’t be alone anymore. I’ll have her.
“I was just thinking we must be rich,” she laughs, and it’s then I see a deep dimple show in her cheek.
“Something like that.” I shake my head and smile at her. I walk over to the fridge and see what Marta has. She always stocks the fridge with things that are easy to throw together when I pull myself away from my desk.
“How about some soup? Nice and easy on your stomach.” She nods. I grab the container of chicken soup and work on heating it up. When I turn, I see she is watching me.
“So, what is it I do?” she asks me, resting her elbows on the counter. She seems so light and happy, completely at ease with what is happening.
My brain freezes. I have no idea what she does. Maybe she’s in college. That would be the best bet, but I don’t want her worrying about having to be somewhere right now.
“Nothing. We planned on starting a family.” Fucking hell, why does this shit keep coming out of my mouth? Why am I digging myself deeper into this? Her cheeks turn pink and her plump lips form a perfect O shape. “Or like I said, this place needs an update,” I rush to say, trying to change the subject because my cock is all too aware of what something like that would mean.
Her, under me. Bare to my cock while I fill her with my cum. My cock—hard since she crashed into my life—leaks cum. The need I have for her pounds down on me even harder.
“I’m not sure how to decorate.” She looks around the room again, unaware of what she’s doing to me, a man who is always in control of everything. Everything in order and always a plan. Now I’m winging it.
“You can hire someone to help. You just pick things you like. Make it ours.” Her face brightens and she seems to like the idea. Good.
“And what is it that you do?”