Page 47 of Jewel of the Assassin

Terror lances through me.

Ice-cold water fills my nose. I’m panicking, flailing, screaming. Fire and ice!—oh, God. Burning in my ass. Drowning and freezing my head. It feels like ice shards are slicing through my nose, my throat, my lungs!

I gag. I sputter. I choke.

And he’s right above me. Watching me. A sick and twisted grin on his face.

I can’t believe…he is…my?—

No. That word is a lie. He doesn’t deserve it. He isn’t my husband. Not my partner.

Not my anything.

Just a monster wearing the beautiful, masculine face of a god.

Suddenly, the sling tips up, and air whooshes into my nose and mouth. I choke, coughing and sputtering out water. My whole body shakes and shivers from the cold shock. Hair soaked and plastered to my cheeks, dripping more ice down my body.

But I’m not in shock. I’m mad as hell. A blazing inferno ready to turn him to fucking ash! If my hands were free, I’d have clawed his pretty green eyes out already.

“There you are, maya Valya. Welcome back to the waking world.”

Grin fading to something paradoxically carnal and tender, Roman reaches for my cheek. I snarl, gnashing my teeth and shoving my face away from his hand.

Baring his teeth, he grips my neck and pulls my mouth to his. I bite his lips as hard as I can. He jerks back, taking his cock with him to slap against his thigh. I nearly slump from the relief in my ass.

Then, I look up. Good. I drew blood. He touches his lower lip, and his eyes narrow. At first, my blood freezes, waiting for his expression to turn violent. But it doesn’t. Instead, he smiles. A sinful, horrible smile of unfiltered male pride. Pride in me.

“Da. Oh, da, moy malen’kaya chertovka-koroleva,” he says, voice husky and deep.

“I don’t give a fuck what pretty words you just said, Makarova,” I warn, burning my eyes against his. “Stay the hell away from me, you abusive prick.”

He tilts his head. I really hate that amused smirk. The one that patronizes with its power.

“Intriguing. You wish I would leave you here, then?” He strokes his jaw, pacing before me, eyes roaming up and down. “So pretty tied up in my sling. As much as I will enjoy the marks left on your flesh from my ropes, I’d rather they not chafe you beyond compare. It would be a worse transgression. And I would not wish to leave my wifesoakedin more ways than one. And unsatisfied.”

“I’mnotsoaked for you,” I hiss.

He advances, not losing that pretentious grin, and I buck, gasping when he palms my bare folds. One finger teases my sore entrance, confirming my traitorous flesh with exactlyhow soaked I am.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, my wife. I would be remiss in my duties as your husband if I did not provide for your sexual needs, Valentina. And…” He leans in, his breath brushing over my cheek like the promise of a storm. A tremor ripples through my body.

“…I do so hate to be remiss.”

His fingers drag languidly along my inner thigh.

“It would be a damn tragedy,” he purrs, “if the world were denied the sound of you coming apart under my hands.”

“Fuck you.”

He pauses, savoring my scowl. “Indeed. I vowed to fuck you all night long on this…our new wedding night.” His lips skim the shell of my ear. “I never break a vow. Not when it comes to you.”

I spit at him.

He doesn’t flinch. Just grins, slow, dark, and fucking delighted.

Horror curdles my blood as he rubs warming oil all over his dick, and I swallow hard. My ass is sore, and I can’t fathom how that thing will fit inside me. Horrid heat dares to swirl low in my belly.

There’s nothing I can do. He really knows how to immobilize me. I’m still wet everywhere, still cold and shaking when the golden-haired devil closes the distance between us with that ruthless smile. He wraps one hand around my waist, jerking me closer with a deep grunt that resonates in my chest. The swing shudders.