The Monster (Steamy Shorts #13)

Chapter 9

9

NINA

S itting on Nikolai’s right side at the dining table, the soft glow of the overhead lights cast warm shadows on his face. He’s big, rough, and rugged.

I noticed it the first time I saw him, but for the past few days, the awareness has only intensified.

Nikolai is handsome. No, not in a conventional way, but in a way that feels sinful and forbidden. Rough around the edges but distinctively attractive. I keep sneaking glances at him, lust pooling in my belly, pulse pounding between my thighs.

I can’t even taste the food anymore. I’m hungry for something else.

“Does it bother you, Nina?” His voice fills the space between us, and I’m watching him a lot closer than usual.

“What does?”

“My face.”

He turns fully to me, the unexpected question catching me by surprise. The scar is nothing to me anymore. I barely even notice it. It’s just part of him, like his hair, his stubble. “No, Nikolai. It doesn’t.”

“It can’t be easy for you to eat dinner every night and have to look at me.”

The desire forgotten, I set my napkin down and give him my full attention. “Nikolai, I don’t know what you mean. I like these dinners with you.” For a brief moment, I consider how much to tell him for the sake of my self-preservation, but to hell with it. He deserves no less than the truth. “It’s the best part of my day, and I always look forward to them.”

He searches my eyes, an incredulous look on his features, a flush of red on the tips of his ears. “You do?”

God, this man is so broken that he can’t even believe I enjoy his company. Why does he think so little of himself? Why does he think his small scar will send me running? Deep down, however, I understand. I am just as broken.

Here we are, two broken people trying to make their arranged marriage work.

And I want him so badly I ache.

“Nikolai, we’ve been married for two weeks.”

“We are. Do you regret it, Nina?”

“No!” Frustration fills me, and I yank my hair. “Why do you always think of the worst about me?”

“I don’t, but I know I’m not who you pictured getting married to.”

His voice is so calm, and it angers me. It has been building for weeks, the slow burn in my chest, the mounting pressure in my skull.

This is the last straw. That comment tips me over the edge. I am so tired of everyone telling me what to feel and how to react and dictating how I should live my life.

The fire smoldering within bursts into flames. “You think I’m suffering each day I’m married to you, is that it?”

“Are you?”

“Do not answer a question with another question!” I shove my chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the floor. I have never raised my voice at anyone, but I need to get this out of my chest, or else I will go mad.

Nikolai watches me pace back and forth, his eyes following my movements with a quiet calm. “I’m sorry, Nina. What do you want me to do or say?”

My words spill out in a heated rush. “That’s exactly the issue, Nikolai. I want you to stop tiptoeing around me. You don’t do that with Dario or Elsa or Wilma, so why are you doing that to me?”

“You’re my wife, Nina.” He says it so low that I strain to hear it.

“Nikolai, you’re too careful and considerate. Yes, I deeply appreciate that, more than you’ll ever know. I want to know what you think, what you feel. I don’t want you to hold back just because you’re worried how I’ll react.” I swipe a hand across my forehead. “I want you to say what you want to say and do what you want to do. I will not think of you any less, I promise.”

Nikolai’s eyes darken, the muscle beneath his jaw tensing as he rests his chin on his fist. “You don’t want that, Nina.”

“Why? What do you want, Nikolai?”

He stays quiet, and the tension is so thick I can taste it on my tongue. I don’t know where I got this sudden burst of courage, but I step closer to him, fully aware that I’m provoking a bear—something I didn’t even dare back home. “Nikolai, I asked you a question. What do you want?”

His nostrils flare, and he lets out a low growl before standing abruptly, his sheer size making me step back on instinct. “You, Nina. I want you. But I promised I would not go to your bed or touch you unless you want me to, and I’ve been doing my damnedest to keep those promises.”

“Nikolai…”

His gaze turns dark and possessive, his breath growing heavier. “I lie awake at night, long after you’re asleep, wondering how you’d feel under my hands and my mouth, how many sounds you’d make as I bury myself inside you…”

Dear God. My heart drums against my ribs, pleasure singing through my nerves. He braces both hands on the table on either side of me, trapping me. My body throbs with raw need as I raise my gaze to him, his eyes going hazy with lust.

“Now, I ask you, Nina.” He lowers his head and whispers in my ear, his hot breath making me wetter. “What do you want?”

Quick, ragged breaths escape me, fire plunging down my body and settling in my core. “Fuck me, Nikolai.”

We’re both breathing hard, and I see the moment he snaps. One second, we’re staring at each other, and the next, we’re moving at the same time, crushing our mouths together.

And the world around us disappears.