She sucks in a breath but lets me apply it before I bandage both hands and close the kit.
“Thank you,” she says, hugging my coat closer as I arrange her wet things near the fire to dry. She keeps her eyes on the fire. “For finding me. And for taking care of me.”
“You’re welcome.”
A moment passes.
She shifts her gaze to the ground.
I grab another bottle of water and hand it to her while I drink straight from the bottle of whiskey.
“Are you warm enough?” I ask her.
“Warming up.”
“So you took Michela’s switchblade,” I circle back.
She glances up at me then away and nods.
“Where did you find it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“No? I’d think you’d remember something like that.”
“Can we drop it? You have it now.”
“I don’t like being lied to.”
She turns her gaze to mine but struggles to hold it. “I’m not lying.”
“I know you didn’t take it, Cristina. What did she do, come to your room the night of the wedding while I was still downstairs? Were you trying to hide it when I walked in later?”
“She was only looking out for me.”
I laugh outright at that. “Is that what she told you? If you believe her, then you’re more naïve than I thought.”
She plants her bare feet on the ground and stands, hands twisting around the bottle of water, my coat about to slip from her shoulders.
“I am not naïve. I’m trying to navigate this house of lies and liars.”
I snort, take a drink, then let my gaze graze over her.
She notices and tugs the coat closer.
“I’ve not lied to you once, Cristina.” Is that true though, I wonder?
“No? But you’ve kidnapped me. Taken my family from me. Forced me to marry you. And I don’t believe that you haven’t lied to me.”
“I’m your ally in this house. Your only ally. Remember that. If you betray me, you have no one.”
“Funny, I’ve heard that from all three of you now.”
“Three?” She tripped up. I see the fact register on her face. “So when did my brother tell you that?”
“I meant two.”
I set the whiskey down, then take her water and put that aside too. I reach out to take the lapels of my coat and tug her close.
“You’re going to tell me the truth, sweetheart.”
She seals her lips and stares up at me. I walk her backward until we get to the worktable. I lift her off her feet and sit her on it. Her eyes grow wide as I study her.
After pushing the coat off her shoulders, I place my hands on her thighs and open them to stand between them.
She swallows.
I look at her mouth, then follow the jagged line of her scar down to her chest. I cup her breasts. Small but firm and round.
She puts her hands on my forearms but doesn’t try to push me away as I reach into each cup and lift out her breasts, pushing the lace of the bra beneath each. I bow my head to run the scruff of my jaw over one nipple and watch it harden. The other I take between my teeth, and the moment I do, she calls out my name.
All the while, her hands remain on my forearms while I plant my hands on either side of her.
I straighten and smile down at her, seeing how her pupils have dilated. “Your eyes turn a deep violet when you’re turned on.”
She licks her lips, panting.
I reach my hand to her belly and slide it into her panties.
She sucks her lower lip in, hand tightening on my forearm but still not pulling it away or trying to push me off.
“You like this,” I say.
Her breath comes ragged when I pinch her clit.
“You like me touching you.”
“I…”
Drawing my hand out, I lift her a little, drag her panties off and tuck them into my pocket before pushing her back onto her elbows. Spreading her legs wide, I bend down and lick her slit.
She gasps, hands coming to the back of my head.
“You taste so damn good,” I tell her as I circle my tongue around her clit and listen to her moan. And it takes everything I have to stop. “But you don’t deserve pleasure right now.”
She looks disappointed.
“No, you deserve the opposite of pleasure,” I add, lifting her to stand, then turning her so she’s facing away from me. I push her down over the table and drag her arms behind her to grip her wrists at her lower back.