crack meeting my ears a moment before the sting bloomed on my cheek.
The shock rendered me speechless. Shock that I currently sat atop his shoulder while he dragged me around like a piece of furniture. Shock that he’d spanked me. Shock that the sting faded to a burn that warmed my core, and part of me wanted to keep hitting his back in the hopes he’d spank me again.
All that shock faded in a flash when the room moved too quick, and he whipped me back over his shoulder, tossing me on the bed like a rag doll.
He didn’t give me a second to escape, instead, following me to the bed. He leaned over me, his clenched fists dipping the mattress at my sides. I flipped my hair out of my face and held his stare, a little less sure of my stance than before. All while I did my best to arrange my robe to cover anything important.
“You are my wife, goddammit.”
The cool, calm, dangerous warnings from before vanished. In their place was a heated Nico—a man beyond patience and reasoning. The dark abyss from before blazed with something I couldn’t quite place—something that called to me to actually listen—almost something like desperation.
“This is our marriage—our home, and I won’t sleep in this bed alone while my wife is across the hall. Now, stop. Please.”
Somewhere in those last three words, something cracked in his façade, and I saw past another domineering man. I saw a piece of the man who worried about his grandfather and genuinely smiled any time they spoke on the phone. I saw a piece of a man who asked about a coworker’s wife and child. I saw—just a man. Maybe a lonely one.
For a moment, I looked at Nico as someone other than another person trying to control my life and heard my mother’s words.
It won’t always be hard, but you must be strong enough to get past the tough exterior these men portray. The truth is, we’re stronger than them all, and they just need to know they can be vulnerable with us. That, mia bambina, is when the real marriage replaces the arranged one.
“Fine,” I almost whispered.
He blinked like I’d hit him but quickly recovered, patching up any cracks that exposed any weaknesses. He stood tall and nodded, finally giving me room to breathe. “Thank you.”
I’d just agreed to share a room—a bed—with him, and he nodded at me like it was a business merger. It ticked me off just enough to slide back to petulance. “But I call the right side.”
His nostrils flared. “Ver—”
“Right. Side. Nicholas.”
I followed his eyes to where they flicked to a book, watch, and alarm clock on the right nightstand. My lips twitched, barely holding back a smile, knowing he was considering fighting this battle, but knowing he would lose.
His fists clenched, but he eventually caved. “Fine.”
“Thank you. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Not appreciating my gloating, he stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door again. While he showered, I took extreme pleasure in moving my bedside knickknacks to the right side-table.
That night, I clung to the edge of the bed, both hoping and terrified to turn into him. I took a modicum of pleasure, pretending to sleep like a baby as I listened to him toss and turn, grumbling about discomfort and the damn left side.
I was almost completely asleep, relaxing away from the edge, when I heard his muttered, ‘fuck it,’ and as soft as a parent too scared to wake a sleeping child, he slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me back to meet him in the middle.
My first instinct was to jerk up and demand to know what the fuck he was doing, but curiosity won out. Would I feel him pressing his erection against my back as he tried to take advantage of us in the same bed? Did he want to see if he could catch me off guard in my sleep?
Did I want him to? Did I want to blame being half-awake as the reason I even considered letting him take advantage of me?
But I never got the chance because he didn’t do any of that.
Instead, soft lips caressed my shoulder, and for the first time all night, he stopped tossing and turning, falling fast asleep with me in his arms.
The craziest thing was, so did I.
Twenty-One
Vera
“Three more shots of tequila, sir,” Raelynn shouted at the bartender.
“Two,” Nova called over Rae’s shoulder.
“Oh, come on, Nova. You