Page 88

Three Days Prior
"Use me as much as you need to, because when you're ready for me, I'm gonna fuck you so deep, so hard, and so fucking good, you'll waddle for a fucking week." Savage takes a step away from me and my body follows, I merely catch myself with a step before falling on him. "So yeah, I can wear a shirt."
"You're playing a dangerous game, Parker," I rasp, wanting to follow that woodsy, masculine scent of his, to allow him to destroy me.
I am a bad, bad wife, on the road to hell.
Guilt eats at me as I watch him shrug and turn to leave but not before handing me a face towel. I watch the muscles in his back flex with every movement, all those fucking tattoos drowning me further with shame at the way my body reacts to him.
Could I even stand to do hand-to-hand combat with him? Would I be able to trust myself to not ride his thigh to fucking euphoria and not want more?
Could I handle more?
I haven't even tried masturbating again since that whole debacle last time, and even though I'm needy with want for the first time since, I can't bring myself to chance seeing Kane's face again.
My dreams at night are getting fierce, and I wake up so wet and fucking needy, but I can't bring myself to throw myself at Maksim to take care of those needs like a husband should.
Ugh, the fucker wouldlovethat, and I don't think I can handle him smirking down at me all triumphantly.
Stupid, sexy Italian Shrek.
I sit down on the mat, crossing my legs like we did as kindergarteners, plant my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands, and let out an irritated growl.
We had a contract for a reason.
Now all I am is confused.
What am I going to do?
If I give in to my desires, I let Maksim win.
If I fuck Savage accidentally on purpose, I'll be the world's most terrible wife.
I can't give in to either one.
Present Day
Raven and I get ready for Maksim’s fight in matching silk gowns, mine pink, hers black.
We spent the day after I trained with Savage shopping with my bodyguard and Jonas, at a little boutique off Fifth. Even though we’re both riddled with anxiety at having to be in a large crowd tonight, it feels so good to dress up with her again, like we did when we shared a room when we were in a sorority at Rayne-Moore. Granted, that only lasted a year, because she was brutally assaulted and left for dead in the music hall during our sophomore year at RMU, but having her here with me is so much fun. We settle back into our old routine so easily, grabbing each other’s makeup, helping each other with our hair, zipping our dresses up, and my darling best friend dons gloves with me so she can hold my hand.
It’s little displays like this that Raven does that lets you know she has your back in more ways than one. I’d trust her with my life. I’d trust her enough to borrow a favorite book of mine and bring it back unscathed just as well as help me hide a body.And with her past, I’m assuming she would know exactly what to do and bring in her trio tohelp. They’d do so without question. Okay, maybe Maverick would ask a question or two, but then help while grunting at us.
I love those guys.
I shove my clear ear buds in before we get to Eden, replaying my mantra in my head over and over again, exhausted I even have to. I’ve been here before; I shouldn’t have to do this still. And yet, I can’t stop myself. Leaving the house, both mine and the penthouse, has become even more difficult since having to share a room with Maksim. It’s like I can feel him around me at all times.
We enter the elevator and go down to the floor where the fights are held.
They’re getting easier to watch live since I’ve been studying up on YouTube, mentally preparing myself to watch Maksim possibly get hurt. But something slightly astounding happens after the first fight - a cage comes down. Jonas leans over and explains it’s mostly done for MMA. But then they’re padlocking it to the floor, and I start to feel a little nervous.
It’s a surprise when Maksim throws off his robe and shows off his physique along with his tight, baby pink shorts you could consider boxer briefs. I'm sopping wet after that display of a kiss my husband plants on me and the fucking silk pink shorts of his aren't hiding anything. My husband is, erm, for lack of a better word -proportionaland the gigantic slut is just showing the goods to the entire population, causing the women in the crowd to scream and whisper ‘lucky bitch’ behind my back.
See? God thinks this is the most hilarious joke. He sends me a husband with what has to be a nine-inch dick, and I'm essentially a nun. Not to mention the day in Central Park Savage dry-humped me until I exploded, he was so hard, and long, and thick, andheavy.And I swear to God, I think I feltsomething elseon his cock through the fabric of the athletic shorts he wears on our runs.
I squirm in my seat, definitely not a good day to wear silk.
It gets worse the longer Maksim fights.