Page 45 of Wicked Villain

“Because I’ve got you curious, wife. You want a taste of my darkness, and judging by the way you were eye-fucking me, deep down you want me to put my dirty, murderous hands all over you and corrupt every inch of your body.” He holds my gaze with such stringent potency I can’t look away. “You want to know what my cock will feel like when I sink inside your virgin cunt and break the cherry between your legs. That’s why.”

Shit, I’m on fire again. My entire body has gone up in flames, and I can’t even pretend his words have no effect on me.

All he does is grin, then he backs away with a rough chuckle and heads toward the ensuite.

Humiliation creeps over me. I can’t allow him to think I’m dumb enough to want him. “No,” I hear myself say. This time, I try to keep the quiver out to save some ounce of my dignity.

Lev stops midstride and tosses me a skeptical look. “We’ll see about that, wife.”

He turns away and keeps walking, disappearing into the bathroom.

I release the air burning a hole through me and collapse against the wall, hoping to steady my breathing. It doesn’t work.

The sound of the shower turning on cuts through my disarray, and I abandon the plan to catch a breath.

I need to escape this day. Only sleep can give me that.

Quickly, I change out of my dress and into a nightshirt, then I get on the bed and slide beneath the covers.

I would have preferred the window seat again, but I don’t want the grief of Lev bitching at me. He always has something to say about everything, and I never have a good comeback.

The best thing to do tonight is to be grateful for the small mercy of keeping my virginity, and escape into sleep before he gets out of the shower. That way, I don’t have to see him anymore for the rest of the day. I don’t have to freak out when he slips in beside me, and I don’t have to think about sleeping next to him.

As the sound of running water continues, I screw my eyes shut and pray for sleep to come. But a dark thought crawls into my mind.

What if he’s right?

I am curious about him. He’s not wrong about that. And … I’m infuriatingly attracted to him, too.

What if I’m so messed up that I’d want someone like him to own me?

No. He’s wrong. I have to believe I’m better than that. It’s just my inexperience with men rearing its ugly head.

Lev Karsavin is the devil, and I just happen to be married to him. The only thing I want from my husband is my freedom.

Nothing more.

Chapter

Ten

Lev

Trouble.

I seem to be hopelessly addicted to it, no matter what it costs me.

I savor the wild fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants adrenaline, the danger, and the unexpected.

Apparently, though, even I don’t know my limits. Or maybe I do, and though I know better, I really am just addicted to trouble and I can’t quit while I’m ahead.

That must be why I thought it was a good idea to marry my enemy’s daughter.

I pick up my mug of coffee and take a gulp. The bitterness hits the back of my throat and burns. I asked Zoya to make it extra strong today. I need the caffeine hit.

I’m waiting for my wife to come down for breakfast. I’ve been informed she’s awake and getting dressed.

I left her asleep in bed a few hours ago. I had to leave to work out. Work off the steam and lust. My damn cock was in fucking agony just for lying next to her and not doing anything.