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Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(88)

Author:Ivy Fox

Tiernan follows right behind me, loosening his hold on me just enough for me to swallow his essence. And after he’s made sure there isn’t a drop left, he lets me go with brutish force. I fall back on my hands and knees, frantically trying to gasp air into my lungs and calm my rapid heartbeat.

Through my peripheral vision, I watch my husband slide his cock back into his pants, fix his cufflinks, and stand up straight, like what just happened between us was the most mundane thing he’s ever experienced. He picks up his suit jacket and puts it on, bypassing me on the floor and heading towards the door.

“As per our agreement, I’ll be home for dinner around eight.”

And without further word, he turns his back and leaves, while I’m still battling for air and some sort of composure to come to me. On shaky knees, I use the armchair he was sitting in to pull myself up. I walk over to the bathroom, hoping that a long shower will relax all my abused limbs, when I catch my reflection in the mirror.

In large red letters, the word SLUT is written on my chest.

The parting gift my husband left me after he made sure he had corrupted my soul.

I spend the rest of the day back in Tiernan’s apartment, sleeping off all the ways my body had been used and abused in the apartment just a few floors below this one. Thankfully, I wake up a couple of hours before I have to go to the kitchen and prepare a meal for the dinner date with my husband.

After all he’s done to me, I should poison him and be done with it.

But just as the murderous thought enters my head, I banish it away.

Even though he’s cold and ruthless, I couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t exist. Maybe I’m being na?ve, or just downright stupid, but Tiernan brings out something in me that I never knew was there. A flame that burns so bright, that I fear one day I’ll be consumed by it and turn to ash.

Logic tells me I shouldn’t feel this way. That even Icarus perished by trying to fly too close to the sun. But logic and sense had no hand in the deal I made with him either, so I fear I’m no longer capable of rational thought when it pertains to my husband.

After I’ve made sure the birria de chivo is up to par, I put on a sleek white sleeveless dress and put my hair up to accentuate my long neck. I know it’s not exactly proper attire to be wearing for dinner at home, but I doubt I’ll ever use it on an actual dinner date to a fancy restaurant. Tiernan is perfectly content to keep me under lock and key.

After finding some matches to set-up the candlelight dinner I’ve prepared, I stand back and admire my handiwork, fully knowing Tiernan will disapprove of the romantic setting.

Let him.

This is more for me than it is for him.

I wasn’t lying when I said I was tired of eating my meals alone. Back home, even when everyone was running around busy with their lives, we always made it a point to have at least one meal together. I miss that familial comradery more than I want to be wooed by my husband.

If I’m honest, the only reason why I even went to such an effort to make this dinner extra romantic was because I knew it would piss Tiernan off. And getting under his skin has become something of an addiction to me. I feed off it just as much as my humiliation seems to satiate Tiernan’s hunger.

I’m at my seat, one long leg crossed over the other, when the elevator doors open at eight on the dot.

Say what you will about my husband, but the man sure is a sucker for being punctual.

“Hi.”

Tiernan’s gaze takes a second to travel up my Louboutin heels, ankles, up my calves and thighs, before they even reach my eyes.

“Hmm,” he mumbles, frustrated, and inwardly I clap myself on the back for a job well done.

“Bad day?” I arch a brow.

“Getting worse by the second,” he grumbles, taking off his suit jacket and flinging it to the couch.

“That’s too bad.” I fake a smile. “Aren’t you going to ask about my day?”

“I already know how your day went,” he replies while loosening his tie.

“So you do. Still, it’s only nice to be asked anyway.”

“I don’t do nice, wife. I thought you would know that about me already.”

“You’re right, I do. I just thought you might surprise me. Only fair since I’ve managed to surprise you today.”

The malicious smirk he throws at me has me clapping with glee inside my chest.

It’s official.

The man has turned me into a lunatic with no common sense and less self-preservation.

He takes his seat across from me and pours wine into his glass. I don’t even put up a fight when he fills my glass, too.

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