Love is War by Elizabeth Knox & Iris Sweetwater

Author:Elizabeth Knox & Iris Sweetwater [Knox, Elizabeth & Sweetwater, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knox Publishing
Published: 2019-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

RHYS

If my eyes aren’t deceiving me I’d say that Vera is pleased with all that I’ve done for her today. I may have even surpassed her expectations on what our wedding day would look like. This wedding may just be to solidify a more pressing political matter, but it’s our wedding nonetheless and I want to make sure she felt like a queen. When I was planning all of this I wondered why it was so important to me that she be happy. I realized quite quickly that it’s because she’s my wife. It doesn’t matter if our marriage is just to keep our power hungry selves happy. We’re married, and thus she will be treated with respect and shown ultimate adoration.

I can’t help but keep my eyes trained on Vera, sitting on the antique couch, staring at the old fireplace in the center of our suite. Her eyes are glued to the flame, staring at it like she’s never seen a fire in her entire life. I wonder what it is that she sees in the fire, if it means anything to her.

I place my hand on the nose of the chilled champagne bottle and pop it free, noticing how Vera doesn’t even so much as flinch at the sudden sound. “What? I am used to guns going off. Champagne won’t scare me one bit.” She snickers, giving me one of those devilish smiles. It’s a rare occasion to see her smile but I’ll take it. Honestly, she doesn’t do it enough. I have a feeling that many demons haunt her.

Pouring the champagne into two flutes, I take one in each hand and approach her, setting beside her on the couch. She takes one from my hand and puts the glass against her lips, pouring a small amount into her mouth. I watch as the liquid runs over her ruby red lips, my cock twitching in my pants.

Fuck.

It’s one thing to marry a woman for political advantages, but when she happens to be drop dead gorgeous it’s even harder. All I want to do is bury my cock deep inside her cunt, but I know better. I know that we don’t have to have sex. That’s not what any of this shit means. But...we’ve already fucked. She said it meant nothing but won’t there come a time where all of our fucking leads up to meaning something? She’s a fool to think it won’t. Or I’m the fool that thinks it will.

Her smirk grows wider as she turns towards me, the silk robe she’s wearing falls over her thigh and exposes her leg to me. “You want to fuck me, don’t you, Romanian?”

I hate it when she calls me that. It’s what I am, but she’s developed a nickname out of it. A fucking pet name.

“We don’t have to fuck just because it’s our wedding day,” I firmly retort, taking my champagne down into my mouth. Right before I swallow, her hand hits my cheek so harshly that all of it comes spitting out of my mouth.

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