Aurora
I highly doubted that.
On my knees between his spread thighs, I worked slowly, trying not to hurt him, but each time I touched the skin, I wanted to vomit. I’d put on a pair of gloves to try to keep the wound clean. He should have called a doctor.
“It hurts, Aurora. Tell me how you got the scar.”
“You’re saying that to manipulate me.”
“Is it working?”
“I got the scar when I was six or seven. I’m not sure exactly what age. Isabella had been out playing in the yard. She liked to play outside. I think she had a thing for the guards watching her. I’m not sure. She was always around them.” I shrugged.
“Where were you?”
“In the library. My father has a giant room. He never reads them. Just seeks out the most expensive titles so no one else can have them. He stores them and I spent most of my childhood reading them.”
“If you weren’t playing, how did you get the scar?”
“Isabelle decided to start throwing stones at the house. I don’t know why. I think she was angry because she’d been told no. One of the stones went through my father’s window. He got me and Isabella into the same room and because he didn’t want to punish his precious daughter, he slammed me around the back of the head, hard. I fell and I hit the corner of a cupboard. That’s how I got the scar.” I remember the pain from the blow. He’d always hit me. My father believed in physical punishments. I’d been belted, slapped, even kicked during my time at home.
Slavik’s hands clenched.
“Is it hurting?”
“Did Isabella get you punished a lot?”
“Not always. She struggled to be … good. She had a wild side, and each time he hit me or took it out on me, she’d come and sit with me after, read. Marrying you is the first time she hasn’t come to console me.” I offered him a smile.
“Being married to me shouldn’t be a punishment,” he said.
“It’s not.” There was freedom with being with him. Not a whole lot but at least I didn’t have to worry about my sister’s punishments anymore.
“You’ll never get hit here,” he said.
“You don’t have to worry about it. You asked and I told you.”
“And now I want to go and beat the shit out of your father.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“For hurting you and treating you like shit.”
A chuckle escaped my lips. “I’ve been treated like shit my whole life. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’ve gotten so used to it, you’re expecting it?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve gotten used to certain treatment. How do I finish this off?”
Slavik told me as I still reeled from our very normal conversation. I think it was the first time we spoke to each other without sex or anger being involved.
After finishing off the stitching, I covered his wound with a large bandage, using some tape to secure it in place. Pleased with my handiwork, I stood, gathering the used pieces of equipment.
Slavik grabbed his shirt.
“Do you want me to cook you something?” I asked. I didn’t even know why I did. Every other meal I’d cooked for him had gone uneaten or in the trash. The day after, I’d seen the plate full of food in a pile as if it had just been slid right in without a single taste.
It had cut me.
“You can cook?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve … I left you food out before. I gave you a note or something.”
“I never saw it,” Slavik said.
“What?”
“I never saw any meal waiting for me. It’s why I started eating out or I made myself a sandwich.”
“But all the food was dumped into the trash. I’d make myself and Sergei food, and I’d leave your plate in the oven. There was always a note.” I paused and then looked away.
“Sergei,” Slavik said. “He dumped my food in the trash. I had no idea you’d cooked for me, Aurora. I didn’t even know you could cook.”
“I can. I mean, I do cook. I don’t know if I’m any good.” I offered him a smile. He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I had no idea Sergei would do that.”
“Sergei would do anything to win your heart. I can see that.”
My mind replayed the moment he killed him. It was odd as I’d always felt sad about that moment. Knowing Sergei had done that, I was so annoyed. My marriage had been difficult from the start, and each time I attempted to make it easier, someone else came in and made it even harder.
Anger filled me as I turned to walk out of the bathroom.
Slavik grabbed my arm and tugged me close to him. I didn’t have time to question what he was doing as his lips brushed across mine. I knew he was in pain and didn’t touch his side as I kissed him back.
I liked his lips on mine, slowly growing addicted to his kisses. They always started out slow, tender, only to build to an inferno that consumed me. As he traced his tongue across my lips, everything faded into the background. There was no care in the world other than his lips on mine. I needed him, and I pressed my body against his, trying to get as close to him as possible.
Fire flooded my body.
Need pulsed between my thighs.
Everything was heightened.
I was hungry for more.
Desperate.
Just as suddenly as it all started, he pulled away, leaving me empty.
It was time to go and make food. Without a word, I left the bathroom, needing the space. I touched my swollen lips as I entered the kitchen.
It was just a kiss. To me, it felt like so much more, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it.