Page 31 of The Brutal Arrangement (The Ivanov Syndicate #2)

“Forget about it,” I whispered to myself as I left the dining room to go to the bedroom. “He’s not going to ever?—”

The door to the elevator slid open, startling me. When Damon winced and stepped off it, holding his side, I flinched.

“Damon?”

He glanced up, seeming shocked to find me there. “Oh.” Then another grimace crossed his face as if speaking at all was too hard.

“What’s going on?” I hurried toward him, alarmed that he was clearly wounded.

“I thought you’d be asleep already. I just came for more clothes.” Moving aside, he seemed intent on avoiding me. “I won’t be long.”

“You’re bleeding ,” I scolded, reaching out for him.

One arm lifted as he shrugged, but he shouldered past me.

“What happened?” I ran after him, cutting him off and directing him toward the kitchen instead. This distance between us was awkward, and I was still confused about how to be near him after all that happened, but I’d never wish him dead. I couldn’t when deep down, he had shown me so much good.

“Caught up in some trouble,” he said vaguely, trying to push past me again.

“Stop. Let me help.”

“That’s not necessary,” he argued.

“Fine. Let someone else help you,” I shouted, too fed up with this damn dismissal. “Because God forbid I want to help you.”

He caught my wrist as I turned to leave.

“What?” I didn’t try to pull from his grip. Meeting his gaze was a challenge, though. Just seeing those dark-brown eyes taunted me.

“Why would you want to help me?” he asked, tense and almost nervous.

“Because! Because against my better judgment, I care.”

His fingers tightened around my wrist as he narrowed his eyes. “No. You don’t. You can’t. If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have been so quick to assume I handled your mother’s care just to trap you in this marriage with me.”

“Oh, right. I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion. So sorry. It’s not so easy to understand why you would’ve done that when you’ve made it clear that I’m just a thing to keep and fuck when the mood strikes.”

He gritted his teeth, pulling me flush against his rock-hard chest. “You’re my wife .”

“Then treat me like one,” I snarled.

With a low growl rumbling from his chest, he lowered his head and kissed me hard. The first touch of his firm lips over mine stole my breath. Gasping against the rough hit of his kiss, I lost the fight to stand up to him.

I didn’t want to.

Not really.

I wanted more than anything for him to let me in and give me a chance to matter to him.

“You are my wife, Lucy,” he said as he pulled back too soon.

“Then treat me like one,” I repeated.

Love me.

Want me.

Please, just… need me for something other than giving you a baby.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might not know how?” He locked his gaze on me, letting me see this first sliver of vulnerability.

I swallowed hard, impossibly touched that he could be strong enough to admit ignorance. That he could let go of his control enough to confess his shortcoming in this regard.

“I’ve never been with anyone who’s wanted me for more than a hard fuck, Lucy.”

I sighed, shaking my head, not at what he said but for the sadness I couldn’t deny. I hated that he’d been so jaded, stuck in this idea that he could be so unlovable. Tugging his shirt, I backpedaled and urged him to come to the kitchen.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s all I’ve ever been able to let myself have. Hard, quick fucks with strangers.”

I led him toward a stool, not replying when he sat.

“I’ve never been able to let go of control, Lucy.”

He watched me as I wet a dishcloth. His stare was a tangible burn on my skin.

“If I don’t have control, I can be hurt. And if I trust a woman, I set myself up to be used or killed or?—”

“That’s not who I am,” I said, cutting him off as I lifted his shirt. It wouldn’t go high enough with how thickly muscled and buff he was. Instead, I quickly unbuttoned it to reach his wound, hoping that this tense silence between us meant he was considering what I’d said.

“I’m not a woman who wants control. I don’t want to weaken you. I have no reason or motive to use you or hurt you or anything like that.”

Daring to glance up at him, I felt like I was drowning in the depth of his eyes.

Please, understand that I’m not a threat!

“I—”

He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me close for another hard kiss.

The lack of distance between us surprised me.

Heat rose from his body and tempted me to want to rub up against him.

He’d tugged me toward him so suddenly that I raised my hands to catch my fall, but it meant placing my hands on him.

Feeling the solid firmness of his abs taunted me, but I stayed focused enough to drag the cool cloth toward the angry-looking red scrape on his side.

Shutting my lids, I savored the intense hit of desire that filled me as he kissed me. With his hand on the back of my neck, he guided me to open up for him, like he would go nuts if he didn’t reacquaint himself with my taste.

I fell under the addicting pull of his lips on mine. When he parted, panting for air, I slowly opened my eyes to see him watching me with an unreadable expression.

“I don’t mind that you want to use me for an heir,” I admitted, not shy about that truth.

Grabbing my ass, he hauled me against him again, kissing me with that possessive demand.

“Did it work?” he asked as he lifted up for air again, pulling my shirt up.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

He yanked my shirt up, and his eyes darkened at the discovery of how I hadn’t bothered with a bra.

Almost smiling, he lowered his head toward my chest. Leaving my shirt tangled with one sleeve off and the bulk of the fabric trapped at my neck, he slanted me over the counter so he could latch his mouth over my breast.

A sharp shot of lust had me arching toward him. Desire lanced through my veins, lighting me up with such an impatient need that I whined.

“I won’t stop,” he promised after sucking hard on one nipple before moving to the other. “I won’t stop until I knock you up, Lucy.”

I nodded, threading my fingers through his hair and keeping him close.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, so needy that I hardly cared if he figured I was easy. So long as he gave me this, so long as he came back to me and never stopped wanting to please me like this, I didn’t care.

“Then it will be real between us,” he vowed. “And you’ll never have any grounds to think about staying away from me. From us .”

I closed my eyes, accepting the fact that he wanted a real and lasting connection with me, after all.

It broke my heart that he’d only see me as a vessel to give him a child. Yet, I wanted to cling to the faint hope that one day, with more patience and as he learned how to be in a relationship, he’d value me , just me, for who I was.