by Stella Gray
“You know I have a lot going on right now,” Stefan told me. “I was working.”
We’d had this conversation before, but I wasn’t going to let it end the same way.
“I understand that,” I shot back, forcing myself to speak as calmly and rationally as possible, just like my father had taught me to do in an argument. “But you having a job to do isn’t the point. It’s not even that you’re a workaholic—fine, I get that. It’s that time and time again you’ve left me sitting around completely alone, with no consideration whatsoever, and that even if this marriage was arranged, I was led to believe—you led me to believe—that we’d at least treat each other with basic human decency.”
I took a deep breath, searching his eyes. Had I gotten through to him?
“It sounds like you need to lower your expectations, then,” he finally sneered. “It’s not my fault your feelings got hurt because I have other things in my life that are more important than you.”
I stepped back, his words like a slap. Why did he have to be so mean?
“I know my place,” I told him, not bothering to keep the edge out of my voice any longer. “I know I’m not a priority to you. I also know that I deserve better than this.”
“You deserve better than this?” Stefan waved his hand, gesturing at our beautiful room.
I flushed, angry that he kept twisting my words and throwing them back at me.
“Why can’t you ever tell me what you’re doing, or where you’re going?” I cried. “You keep everything from me, running around god-knows-where with people I’ve never even met, and meanwhile I’m stuck in a hotel where you expect me to wait for you all day.”
His eyes were cold, that impenetrable green, but something in them seemed to waver. Just as quickly as I noticed it, though, it was gone.
“I’ll have my assistant forward you my itinerary, then,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Are we done now?”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Victoria Lindsey, you are so much more work than I anticipated. And I am fucking exhausted,” Stefan said, shrugging off his shirt completely and tossing it onto a chair.
“I’m your wife,” I reminded him.
“This is a marriage of convenience,” he told me. “And none of this is convenient for me.”
I couldn’t believe his cruelty. His outright dismissal of me and my feelings.
“None of this is convenient for me either,” I spat back at him.
“Why don’t you just go out and buy something with my money?” he said, glaring at me. “That seems to be the best way to shut you up.”
“Why don’t you decide what you actually want?” I said. “Because I’m pretty sure you have no fucking idea what that is.”
He stalked toward me, his eyes intense on mine. “I always know what I want.”
He was so intimidating up close that my mind nearly went blank. Not only was he staring at me, his gaze unblinking, but his naked chest was inches from me, his entire body radiating heat and strength and power. It was hard to say if I was more angry at him or aroused.
“You never know what you want,” I told him. “Not when it comes to me.” Michelle’s words came echoing back to me then, and I took a deep breath. “Tell me what you need.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I need to live my life, and so do you. Getting in too deep won’t benefit either of us. When this is all said and done and we go our separate ways, we can have a clean break—but only if we have boundaries. And this is one of them.”
I shook my head. “You act like you know what you’re doing, and you think you have it all figured out, but the truth is you’re just as mixed up as I am. Neither of us knows what this marriage is supposed to be.”
“I know exactly what this marriage is supposed to be,” he said, but he didn’t move. “You’re the one who seems confused.”
But I wasn’t confused, or delusional. I saw his eyes rake down my body and back up again, right then and there, proving my point. This was infuriating.
I lifted my chin, ready to fight.
“Bullshit. You’re hot and cold,” I accused him. “One minute you’re holding my hand on a ferris wheel in Vienna, the next you’re parading some brunette across the lobby of our hotel. You take me to the opera one night, and lock me up in our room another. I think you want me, and I think you hate it. In fact, I know you do.”
“And what makes you so sure?” he asked, his voice low and tense.
I closed my eyes, just for a moment.
“I saw you watching me,” I answered. “When I was in the shower. And I could see that you…” For the first time I faltered. “I saw your…”
“My cock?” he asked, his voice cruel. He laughed. “Don’t fool yourself, little kitty cat. I would have gotten hard watching any woman finger fuck herself.”
He turned, as if to dismiss me, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him. His bare skin was hot beneath my palm.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“You want me,” I taunted him. “You want to put your hands on me.” I looked him straight in the eye. “Do it.”
For a moment, I thought he would shake my hand off and walk away. Instead, his eyes flashed hot and before I could blink, his hands were hard and rough against my hips, his fingers gripping the flesh there. Holding me in place. My heart was hammering in my chest.
Immediately, I regretted pushing him. I opened my mouth—intending to apologize—but he kissed me before I could say a word.
He kissed me hard.
It was completely different from the few kisses we’d shared before. Those had been tentative, careful, measured. He had been assertive, yes, and I had been incredibly turned on, but this was nothing like those kisses. This was reckless and hot and intense.
As Stefan thrust his tongue into my mouth, one hand slid up to fist my hair, holding me in place. It hurt just enough to send a tingling shock from my head down to my toes. I opened my mouth wider and he fucked my mouth with his tongue, making me so wet I could feel it.
He was greedy with his kiss, taking everything he wanted.
I loved it. I loved every moment of it.
I kissed him back, meeting him thrust for thrust as our tongues parried, his free hand grabbing the curves of my body with a hungry roughness. I could feel the hard outline of his cock, and the slide of silk against my aching nipples made me dizzy as I arched against his chest.
I wanted more.
Instead, Stefan released me so abruptly that I stumbled back.
“There,” he said, his chest heaving, his eyes angry. “You’ve been kissed. I hope you’re satisfied.”
Before I could respond, he turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
He may as well have slammed the door in my face.
Tori
Chapter 15
The one serious piece of dating advice that Grace had impressed upon me time and time again during high school was that the only way to know for sure that your feelings for someone were real—and not just a passing crush, or a fit of lust-at-first-sight—was to kiss them. The kiss would tell you everything.
If she was right, then I was in deep trouble.
Glancing in the mirror as I brushed my teeth the next morning, I could see how swollen my lips still were. My mouth felt like a bruise, still tender from the intense, unrelenting kiss I’d shared with Stefan. It was a kiss I had spent most of the night alternately cursing and craving.
He was the first thing I’d thought of when I had opened my eyes that morning. I hated myself for wanting him as badly as I did. I hated the way his touch, rough and self-assured and just barely under control, had gotten me so hot. I hated that even though I was furious at him, I still wanted him to carry me off to bed and torment my entire body, the same way he had tormented my mouth. But the worst part was, it wasn’t just lust. That kiss had hit me like a lightning bolt. I realized I had developed real, undeniable, honest-to-god feelings for him.
It was time to send Grace an int
ernational cry for help.
We might have had a pretty surface-level friendship, but even though our hangouts had been solely for the purpose of studying, she’d always treated me the same as all her other friends—despite the fact that my father’s rules and curfews kept me from joining them when they’d hang out. And come Monday morning at school, Grace would catch me up on all their antics: at the movies in the city, or with hot guys at the mall, or while joyriding around Springfield in Grace’s cute little Bentley. She’d always acted like I was part of the group. She was the kind of girl who treated everyone like her best friend.
Budapest was seven hours ahead of Chicago, so that meant it was around 1:30 am for Grace. Knowing what her weekend schedule usually looked like, I would bet that she was still wide awake.
Even though Stefan was working in the next room, I glanced around the room just to be sure there was nobody around before I picked up my phone and started to type.
Hypothetical question: I texted. Let’s say there’s this girl. Who really wants to sleep with this guy. And she knows it should have already happened by now, but it hasn’t. And she doesn’t have a lot of experience with that kind of thing yet.
MM-HMMM, she texted back almost immediately, adding an emoji with a suggestive expression. Do go on…
So they’ve fooled around a few times, I wrote, trying to organize my thoughts. But.
I’d felt how hard his cock was through his pants last night. There was something about Stefan that made me feel desperate, hungry for him—but I clearly wasn’t alone in this desire. He’d been just as turned on as I was.
Even though it’s -obvious- that he wants her badly and chemistry isn’t the problem, I concluded my text, they still haven’t gone all the way yet.
Grace wrote back, Yes yes, and your question is? Hypothetically speaking?
I felt my face go hot as I typed, Why does he keep stopping right as it starts to get good?
I waited for her response, getting nothing, and was relieved when I could finally see the dots popping up that meant she was tapping out her reply.
Did this girl call him her ex’s name by mistake? Bc if so, I’ve been there. Mega turn-off.
This girl has no exes, I replied.
Did this girl maybe start crying or otherwise get very emotional in the middle of things? Known to be a common killer of boners.
I’d been emotional, yes, but he’d kissed me despite my anger, not been turned off by it. And was I crying? Nope. I typed back, That wasn’t it.
I watched Grace’s ellipses appear and then stop and then come back again. Finally, a long text popped up on my screen. It was a whole paragraph.
To be honest, Tori, and this is just hypothetical of course, I’m guessing that this boy…who might have initially been attracted to this girl partly *because* of her inexperience…is having some cold feet when it comes down to actually doing the deed.
I nodded as I read along.
It continued, BUT in my opinion, and experience, I have to honestly say— it will get better. I saw the way he looked at you at the wedding, and that man had eyes for no one else. If he’s acting like he wants you it’s because he DOES. And if the sex hasn’t happened yet, it’s probably because he’s all torn up about how virginal you are and is afraid he’ll ruin your first time. I know this all sounds crazy, but don’t be afraid to push his buttons. Sometimes men need a little extra persuading to get the job done.
Everything she was saying made perfect sense. Relief was starting to wash over me.
PS! A fresh text had popped up. Make sure he knows how EXCITED you are for him to storm the castle—here she inserted a winking-faced emoji—I mean, make sure this girl knows to make sure that this boy knows that this girl is waiting for him to…etc, you get the point.
I sent back a thank you!!! and three emoji hearts, and then put my phone down. I felt a lot better already.
I dialed down to room service and asked them to bring me up a tray of coffee, fruit, and a selection of local pastries, and then climbed back into the cloud-like bed to mull things over.
Grace had to be right. Despite what Stefan had said about setting boundaries so that neither of us got hurt when we separated, I was willing to face those consequences and I didn’t see any reason why two consenting adults who were crazily attracted to each other shouldn’t take their relationship to the next level. Even if it was solely a marriage of convenience, both of us walking around going mad with lust for the next few years (years!) wasn’t very convenient, was it? In fact, I’d imagine that this kind of intense horniness would make it very difficult for Stefan to concentrate on the work that mattered so much to him. It was hard enough for me to concentrate, and I was pretty much on vacation until the fall semester.
I wondered what Michelle would have thought of Stefan’s behavior last night. Surely, she wouldn’t chide me for not trying hard enough to seduce him, though she probably wouldn’t have approved of me yelling at him. At least, he had kissed me. Maybe that was the trick…getting him angry enough that he would lose control. My lips curved up in a wicked smile.
The thought was tempting.
Because Stefan, while extremely sexy all of the time, was unbearably hot when he was mad. The intensity in his eyes had practically caused my thong to burst into flames. He had approached me like a predator stalking its prey. And I had liked it.
I wanted more. I wanted to push him to the edge. Wanted to make him so mad that he wouldn’t have any choice but to rip my clothes off and punish me.
Just the thought of it made me shiver.
This wasn’t like me at all. Previously, when I had thought about sex and the men I wanted, I had always fantasized about someone who was sweet and kind. Someone who went slow—someone who took their time.
Now, all I wanted was Stefan. And whatever he’d expect in the bedroom, I’d be happy to give him. I had a pretty good idea of what I’d be getting, too. It would be hard, rough, and hot.
My phone buzzed.
I picked it up, expecting another text from Grace.
It was an email. From Stefan.
Sitting up, I opened it, my pulse quickening. He was literally in the next room—why was he sending an email? What could be so official, or so long-winded, that he couldn’t write a text?
The subject was ‘As requested,’ but there was no text in the body of the email, just a document attached. I quickly downloaded it to find that he had sent me an itinerary. His itinerary for the entire day—6:00 breakfast, 7:00 phone meeting with Cartier reps, 8:00 conference call with KZM associates in …
I skimmed down and my eyes caught on my own name: Tori- sightseeing. Blocked out between mid-morning and the afternoon, in black and white, was time set aside to go sightseeing. With me.
My heart gave a little flip.
It wasn’t romantic by any traditional means, but I was touched nonetheless. Because while I had been ranting and upset last night, he had clearly been listening. And then he had done something about it.
Maybe the kiss had affected him in more ways than one.
I couldn’t help smiling. I was going to get a chance to see Budapest and finally spend some quality time with my new husband. Maybe we’d actually get to know each other better, and in doing so, find a better way to communicate.
The door to the bedroom opened and I leapt to my feet, wishing I’d gotten dressed and wasn’t still lying around in my pajamas. I did my best to smooth my hair down as Stefan came in, looking impeccable as usual in his suit. I tried not to drool at how good he looked, though I also wondered: Was he going to wear this sightseeing? If so, I could certainly take the Rock Church, which was located inside an actual underground cave system, off my to-do list.
Just once, I wanted to see Stefan relaxed and casual. This whole 24/7 businessman thing was making it impossible for me to get to know him better. It wasn’t just the perfectly tailored suit that made it difficult—it was the tense expression he always seemed to pair with it.
Did
the man ever smile?
I offered my own as he came into the room, but he barely glanced at me—as if he hadn’t sent the itinerary just moments ago, as if he hadn’t made a point to add time for us to sightsee together.
I didn’t understand. It was exactly what I had accused him of last night—he was hot and then he was cold. What did he want from me? Despite Grace’s reassurances, I was getting nothing from Stefan but either sexy, soul-searing kisses, or a cold shoulder and total lack of interest. Was this normal behavior for new relationships?
“You look nice,” I said, wanting to keep the peace.
He didn’t say anything, his attention focused on his phone.
“A little formal though,” I teased.
Nothing.
I was starting to feel that everything with Stefan was one step forward and two steps back. Would I ever know where I stood with my husband on a day to day basis? Would I ever know what he wanted from me?
“I just ordered up breakfast, but I’ll get ready after that,” I told him. “Are you going t—”
Before I could finish, there was a knock at the door. Stefan lifted his head lazily, as if he’d been expecting the intrusion. He headed toward the front of the suite, while I followed behind him, wrapping myself with a robe.
“Is that my room service?” I asked.
He opened the door, his body blocking whoever was on the other side.
“Pree-vyet,” a woman’s voice rang out, her tone cheerful and warm.
“Pree-vyet,” Stefan echoed, before stepping back enough for the woman to come into view. “Thank you for coming.”
But before I could get a good look at her face, she was kissing Stefan. First on one cheek and then on the other. All I could see was a thick curtain of shining black hair.
“Yak spravy?” she asked, stepping into the room.
Her face was still turned away from me, focused on Stefan, but I could see that her body was pretty spectacular. Much like the woman I’d seen with Stefan in Vienna, and all the girls at the casting call yesterday, she was tall and slim, with a narrow waist and full breasts. I tightened my grip on the robe, feeling self-conscious.
