Page 17 of King of Ashes
This man can kiss, stirring an ache and igniting a craving for more. He kisses me until I am out of breath but high on his taste. He’s exceptional at devouring me, my cheeks heating as I wonder if he’s as good in bed. I yearn for human contact. My fingers and my vibrators have done the deed but can’t substitute for the skin-on-skin sensation.
Images of him flash through my mind, though his form remains perpetually unclear. I doubt Vian can match him, but I’d take whatever I can to feel something other than despair, freeing myself from the clutches of the past.
When the kiss ends, I hear the snap of the camera while my eyes are locked on his. Instead of the usual iciness, the blues burn. It’s a heady combination.
We pose for some more pictures, and then we toast to a fruitful union, whatever that might mean.
Then we cut the cake, in our own little bubble, Noemi and Conrad leaving last.
He feeds me a spoonful, then another, melting me under his scorching gaze. What is it with this man who makes me so submissive, loving that even?
Soft music comes from the integrated sound system as we dance, and I forget our marriage is not real until the sound of a soulful song with violin notes makes me stiffen. That melody sounds familiar, yet it eludes me.
“What is it?” he asks, care and concern thick in his voice.
I sigh. “Nothing... The violin playing is beautiful.”
He takes my hand where he slipped the wedding band next to my engagement ring.
I expect him at any second to pull it off and replace it with something of his. Instead, he rolls it, exposing the diamond that flickers just like my wedding band, matching perfectly as if my past and my present align in blissful acceptance.
“I can share you with a dead man. But if you ever let another man touch you, I will kill him.”
The violence gleaming in his eyes excites me.
“I haven’t been with anyone since him. I don’t intend to be with anyone other than you,” I say, my earnest tone surprising me.
“Good.” He sounds relieved, pushing me to add, “But if you’re going to be all territorial asshole, I expect the same. It would be only fair.”
“Deal.”
Without even blinking, he grabs the knife from the inside pocket of his suit and presses it into my hand, then he offers me his palm.
I dig the pointy tip into his flesh, carving a line. Droplets of blood coat his palm, waiting to seal our vow. Switching, he does it to me with utmost care. The sting quickly fades. In the underworld, this represents a sacred vow, one that can never bebroken, akin to signing a blank page. The trust is implied, the loyalty a given.
Something primal overcomes me, and after we shake hands, I bring his palm to my mouth and lick the blood clean.
His pupils dilate, the black swallowing the blue, but this surge of madness owns me. This man is unlike anyone else I’ve met.
“Fuck, Zara…” he rasps.
His gaze never wavers from me as he lifts my palm to his lips and sticks his tongue out, lapping at the blood before placing a tender kiss there.
A rush of potent desire goes straight between my legs, desire overruling common sense.
We should talk about so many things. This deal happened too fast, and the merger still needs to be discussed so we can coexist as harmoniously as possible, but all I crave is more of this passion we share without even trying—we unsealed the lid, and now it spills between us in rivulets of fiery desire. I will probably drown in it, but as long as we keep it physical, it shouldn’t matter.
“I won’t love you, Vian, but I will respect you. Be loyal to you. I am yours. Everything but my heart.”
He cocks his head, palming my chest, and the traitorous organ beneath beats a wild thump as if contradicting myself.
He smirks, trailing his index finger along my neck before gripping my chin and forcing me to keep eye contact. “Understand one thing about me, wife. I will take whatever I damn well please, and you will give it to me. Your heart. Your body. Your mind. There’s nothing you can do about that, but love ruined us once. Let’s not repeat that.”
Something in his words urges me to take every word apart, rummage for some secret meaning behind them, but then he cups my nape and slams his mouth on mine, scatteringmy thoughts—blowing them away, the summer heat dissolving them.
I don’t know if I will survive our marriage intact—the biggest mistake of my life, one I wish I could regret but can’t.
“No falling in love,” I whisper, catching my breath after his intense kiss.
