Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Twenty Three

Bianca

So Niko can cook, and he's more than comfortable moving around the kitchen like some bronzed god capable of doing even the most mundane task.

I went into the kitchen with the intent of hashing out plans for our future marriage. My mind was whirling upstairs after he touched me, when for a moment I begged internally for him to lean down to kiss me, and when he didn't, I felt so crushed, I knew I couldn't let him touch me like that again.

I couldn't give myself to him like that, not if I wanted any chance of escaping this marriage, the spoken contract I've seemingly fallen into with the Moretta's and most importantly my insanity.

I should have run back on the plane. I should have taken the opportunity that arose with both hands and run as far away as I possibly could. And yet I didn't; I stayed. And now I'm regretting passing up the chance of freedom to stay loyal to a man who, if given half the chance, will destroy me from the inside out.

We eat in tense silence, the only sounds coming from my fork scraping on the plate as I fill it with food before bringing it to my mouth. Despite my better judgment, I find myself staring at Niko, who's trying just as hard not to glance at me.

I still stand in this godforsaken wedding dress, the material itchy and equally heavy. And yet, I couldn't help but follow his demand to keep it on.

Why?

I'm not sure. I should have opposed him as I do with everything else since Dimitri demanded our matrimony. But on some base level, I enjoy opposing Niko only to submit at the very last minute. And here's me submitting to that one demand that means something to him.

Is he truly a traditional man? Does removing this dress mean to him what it means to me?

Surely not? He's not a prudent man, he's had his fair share of rolling in the sheets...

So why does he feel the need to unwrap me like one would their virginal wife?

And I'm not a virgin.

Niko raises his lip in a half-smirk, his lips lifting on one side of his face as he obviously finds something humorous.

I feel the need to fill the silence with something more than my quietude.

"Thank you," I whisper when I lay my fork on the plate. I drop my gaze because, quite frankly, I'm not sure I want to see Niko process what he says. He's long since finished his food, having placed his dishes inside a hidden dishwasher under the counter. I pass along my plate and fork, and he does the same to mine, clearing the muck before lining them within the wrack in the dishwasher drawer.

"You're welcome, Bee. I hope it was to your liking," he smirks warmly.

I want to tell him it's the best omelette I've eaten in a while, far superior to Anna's dry ones, but I don't want to encourage him to feel connected to me. "Where are the bags?" I ask after a long bout of silent staring. He doesn't answer immediately, probably because he truly doesn't want me to take this dress off. But I need to get out of it, and I also hope there's suitable clothing to wear.

Walking away, I lift the skirt just a little to move my feet freely. I grab the bags and take them back to the kitchen counter thirstily.

Reaching inside, I find I'm disappointed beyond words to find skimpy bikinis, baby doll dresses, swim shorts, and lounge pants for Niko.

My face must be a picture of unhappiness because Niko laughs so loud that it resounds around the open space.

"I don't think Dimitri wants us to stay clothed for long if you know what I mean," he chatters.

"This dress is the most uncomfortable thing I have ever worn, and these will barely keep the chill of the air off my skin."

"Perhaps that's the point," he grins, stroking a red babydoll between his thumb and forefinger.

"May I have your shirt?" I blurt out, glowering at the audacity of myself.

"My shirt?"

"Yes, can I have your shirt? You can peel this dress from me, and then I'll soak in the tub before bed and wear your shirt over one of these bikinis. I'm tired, Niko..."

"I was hoping to show you out back. The hot tub is situated perfectly."

"Fine, I'll soak in that," I huff, grabbing for the gold bikini with a vastly larger amount of material than the red.

I attempt to walk away, to find some privacy to change, but Niko stops me.

"I get to help, remember?"

My breath catches in my throat. I had said that and agreed to that compromise, but it doesn't mean I'm not anxious to give Niko what he wants. He walks to me, reaching for my shoulder straps. His touch is triggering memories to flash through my mind like a torrent of bullets prepared to hurt me.

I feel so sexualised that I've begun to hate him. Am I nothing more than a body he vies to fawn over and sink into?

Am I going to be another one of those girls? What was her name...

"You're upset?" His voice comes soft, the pad of his thumb stroking my shoulder. I shift him off, turning away only slightlyso I canrevel in the look of disappointment that flits through his features.

When did this evening go to shit?

Why am I creating this mess?

"Is that all I am to you?" I explode. "Just a body to stare at, a vagina to sink into? Am I nothing more than a whore to you?" I yell with malice, allowing those bad memories to fuel my lit fire.

"What?! Of course not. You're my wife."

I scoff so loud it almost becomes a snort. "We've been married hours, Niko. I'm not your property!"

"No, I agree. You are my wife. My equal. I just want to create something between us, Bee. I want to have you by my side as I'll be by yours. Is that so bad, huh?" He fires below his breath as his hold on me drops

I have nothing to say because, honestly, that is precisely what I want, but I'm afraid that if I allow him that close, I might lose sight of what truly matters.

He could go with you, you could have someone dependable to rely on. Start a new life together instead of constantly being alone.

"Bee?" He asks, stepping flush against me; he cradles my jaw before turning my face to him just as a tear of utter fear falls down my cheek.

"What did he do to you?" He asks lowly.

"Who?"

"The man that obviously shattered you before leaving you to glue back the shards of your previous self."

I don't answer him; I stare up at him in disbelief that he would cut to the chase so quickly.