I cleared my throat, looking away from her at the stark reminder of my own bleak reality and shrugging.
“My pa arranged it. I don’t want it. I even told her I don’t want it. But this world I live in doesn’t make way for wants and dreams. It’s all about power and transactions.”
“You’ve been sold?” she gasped. “Just like me?”
I looked at her again, my eyes moving to the thin straps of her cami and the way the silky material barely kept the swell of her breasts hidden from me. My mouth dried out. I wanted things from her which I hadn’t wanted from any woman in ten long years. She was tempting me in ways I didn’t even think I was capable of being tempted in anymore, and I was finding it damn hard to fight those wants away. More and more often they came to me while I slept or whenever my mind wandered and now, with her sitting right here before me, I found I could hardly think of anything aside from how soft her skin had felt when I’d touched her before or how sweet her kisses had tasted against my lips.
“Do you wish I’d never bought ya?” I asked her, unsure what I even wanted to hear to that.
“No,” she replied instantly. “Anyone else could have just used me any way they liked. But you…”
“I used you too,” I grunted, not wanting to accept that grateful look in her eyes because I didn’t deserve it. “Don’t go thinking I rescued you outa the kindness of my black heart, Spider. I don’t have any of that left in me. I was just a lonely man sick of living in a lonely world and you…”
“Yes?” she breathed, drinking in my words and forcing me to finish them.
“You helped me to focus,” I admitted. “I get lost in the dark sometimes. A lot of times, actually. There are probably some pills I could take for that or some shit, but I figure I’m owed my misery for what I cost that woman I married. But since you, I haven’t gone into the dark nearly as often as I used to, and I find…I find that I have more reason to return from it when I do.”
“So you…like me?”
“No,” I barked and she flinched, making me feel like a royal arsehole, so I huffed out a breath. “Like isn’t what it is,” I went on, taking her hand and moving it to my side, placing her fingers on the fresh ink I had there and embracing the slight tingle of pain which came from her touch.
Her lips parted as she moved her fingers over my skin, the spider on her thumb brushing against the one I’d gotten for her as she licked her lips and my breathing grew shallower. She had to see it for what it was, had to know my reason for getting this particular tattoo. There was no other motivation for it beyond wanting this reminder of her permanently branded onto my flesh.
I cursed as my cock stiffened, the blinding pain reminding me of myself and making me draw back before I could do anything stupid like try to kiss her again.
“What is it?” Brooklyn asked in alarm.
“Nothin’,” I ground out, cupping my dick and trying not to buckle in on myself as I gritted my teeth against the pain.
“It’s not nothing. It’s clearly a something,” she insisted. “Let me see the something.”
Brooklyn grabbed my wrist, trying to pull my hand away from my cock and I growled at her.
“Honestly, love, it’s just my own stupidity reminding me what happens when I act before I think,” I grunted.
“Let me see,” she hissed, trying to yank my pants down and making me curse again as my dick got even harder.
“Fuck, Jesus, stop pawing at me or it’s going to fuckin’ fall off,” I groaned.
“Have you hurt your cock?” she breathed. “Because of me? Did someone do this to you? Did they cut it off? Is it nothing but a nub now? Just a bloody, bleeding nub of doom? Did they leave your balls behind or are they gone too? Will I have to call you Nubby Niall now?”
“No one cut anything off of me,” I snarled.
“Then why won’t you let me see?” she insisted, yanking on my sweatpants again and knocking my hand hard enough to make a fresh wave of agony explode through my manhood.
One moment I was calling her a she-witch and the next she’d managed to pull my fucking pants down to reveal my freshly decorated dick.
“Oooh,” she gasped, leaning down to get a better look and I gripped her by the throat, forcing her back, mostly because the thought of her touching it was at least as terrifying as it was tempting in that moment, and I was pretty certain I’d pass out from the pain if it got any worse. “I’ve never seen one this fancy before.”
“I was drunk off my tits and thinking fuck knows what,” I snapped, not bothering to fight to get my pants back in place now that she was already getting her eyeful.
“It looks ouchie,” she said. “And it’s really swollen up – it shouldn’t be that big, should it?”
“That is your contribution to my problem, Spider,” I said roughly. “It hurts like a bitch when I get hard, so I’d appreciate you backing up a touch.”
I bit my tongue on the alternative offer which was burning through me because for one, I was pretty certain that I really would black out from the pain of her touch if she got any closer to my cock. And for two, this was a terrible idea. A terrible, irresistible, all-consuming idea.
Brooklyn backed away and I tugged my sweatpants up again.
The intensity of the look which burned between us had me questioning all of the decisions I kept trying to stick to about keeping a distance from this creature.
I had a list of reasons not to give in to this. A whole fucking list. But they were gone now, swept away on a wind I could no longer feel, leaving me staring at her with a pain in my soul which said that if I didn’t kiss her, I might just shatter into a thousand pieces which would never fit back together right.
“I’m marrying her,” I blurted before I could lean in and do it. Because I would. I was weak. Which meant I was going to take the coward’s way out and make her stop this. “Anastasia.”
“She has a princess name?” Brooklyn breathed, the flash of hurt in her eyes making me feel like a royal cunt as I swallowed thickly. “As well as big tits?”
I nodded, hating the coldness which was slipping in to take the place of all the heat which had been building between us.
“And is she too young for you?” she asked and I shook my head.
“She’s my age,” I admitted.
“What does she look like?” she asked, shifting back inch by inch, retreating against her pillows while I felt that wall building up between us and hated myself for every brick she laid.
“Blonde.” I shrugged. “Tall. Russian.”
“Beautiful?” Brooklyn whispered and I shrugged again, my eyes clinging to every piece of her and knowing in my soul that I’d never once seen beauty that came even close to hers. It was there in every line of her features but more importantly than that, it was painted through every stroke of her dark and twisted soul. There was no beauty beyond this woman before me, but admitting that would have been admitting to so many more things which would only end in her death, just like it had for Ava.
“I suppose so,” I agreed, but I had no interest in any part of Anastasia and I couldn’t say I’d felt even the slightest stirring of attraction towards her. I just couldn’t let myself voice those words.
“When?” she asked quietly.
“Soon. The whole thing is going to be some big showy event. I haven’t paid much attention to the details, but our families want this union.”
Brooklyn nodded again, her gaze moving to her hands where they twisted in her lap and I felt like the biggest piece of shit to ever draw breath, but I wasn’t going to back down. I couldn’t risk her for my own selfish desires. I wouldn’t.
“I took the tape of you killing Andrew Fig and his bitch of a wife from the scene of the crime,” I said suddenly, wanting to put a smile back on her face even if it had to be for reasons aside from me.