Heart of My Monster (Monster Trilogy, #3)

by Rina Kent

“I’ll touch my wife whenever I fu...

He stands up, and I’m slammed head-first by the glorious view of his naked body. He doesn’t even try...

I look the other way, refusing to get caught in that web.

“Can’t you put some clothes on?”

“Why should I wear them when I’m in front of my wife? Speaking of which, care to relieve the hard-on caused by yo...

“I…didn’t do...

“My cock would like to respectfully disagree. His state is physical proof of the harassment, ...

“It’s not my fault you’re ...

A low chuckle leaves his lips, the sound flowing around my head, and th...

“That’s where you’re wrong, Solnyshko. It’s entir...

I push his hand away and glare up at him, trying to ignore his dick that’s a t...

My gaze lingers on his muscular back, his tight ass, and the strong tendons of his thighs that flex with every movement. The tattoos covering them seem like they’re animated. Kirill stops at the threshold and peeks back with a smirk as if he knew I’d be staring.

On my way to the closet, I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger. The green jewel sparkles under the morning light. Kirill also clasped the bracelet on my wrist. I can’t help the mix of emotions that run through me. A part of me always mourned losing these two items, but now, I’m apprehensive about being back to square one.

I leave my phone on the table and head into the closet. Sure enough, there are countless dresses, pants, shirts, and even jeans. All new and in my size. Kirill put them with my old clothes that are still there. He must’ve unpacked the duffel bag I took to the basement and also placed the suits and men's clothes here. My throat closes when I find my wedding dress hanging at the far end of my old clothes. The veil is draped around it, and the amateur crown of flowers I made sits on the box with my shoes in it. An influx of emotions hits me, and I fetch the first item and then slide the door shut.

He starts to grab me, but I step out of his reach.

“You need to seriously stop trying to touch me.”

“Why would I stop touchin...

“Your touch disgusts me, for...

“Is tha...

He tilts his head to ...

“Isn’t it, perhaps, the exact...

I jam my forefinger into ...

“You mean nothing to me...

He clutches my hand and is about to kiss the back whe...

“Stop touching me. I ...

Kirill raises his hands as if in surrender, but the gesture ...

Kirill slides an arm around the small of my back and clutches my hip. Shivers break out on my skin although layers of clothes separate us. I’m about to push him away, but then he says,

“Sasha is my wife. From today on, you’ll respect and protect her as you do me.”

She goes to sleep before I do with her back facing me. If I try to touch her, she slaps, hits, or pushes me away as if I’m the most disgusting thing to ever exist. It doesn’t matter how many methods I use or how far I go to reignite any form of connection. The more I try, the harder she works to demolish those plans. I know she’s forcing it. I can feel it in the subtle tremor of her skin whenever I touch her. I see it in her parted lips and chameleon eyes. I hear it in the hitch in her breathing whenever my body is near hers. But she’s determined to not give in to those emotions. Sooner or later, she will. I won’t give up until she becomes my wife again.

A few months ago, I was the only one whose touch she craved. Anytime, anywhere. Now I’m the only one she desperately wants to escape.

Although she’s wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt, she’s glowing and looks enticing. Or that could be my cock speaking in an attempt to finally get a taste.

“If you don’t want the rest of them broken, don’t touch my wife again.”

I capture her elbow and tug her close. In Sasha’s book of How to Avoid Your Husband, any form of touch is completely prohibited, so she tries to wiggle free. She does it more subtly in public, though, which means it’s less efficient. I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper,

“If you’re in the mood to see your brother today, stay fucking still.”

She freezes and all her attempts to s...

“You’re taking me to see Anton?”

“Only if you’re a good girl.”

Her lips purse, but there’s a pink hue that covers her cheeks. I bet she doesn’t even know it’s there, but then again, she can’t really control her body’s reactions. One more reason why I’m sure she’s just suppressing at this...

Contrary to what Sasha prefers, her hand is in mine. It’s for an entirely necessary reason other than touch or seduction, and she doesn’t have any choice but to hold on to me for dear life.

Her nails dig into the flesh of my hand with the sole purpose of inflicting pain, but that’s okay. Her being angry and frustrated with me is still better than the bitter pill of indifference.

I start to remove my hand and she slips, then grabs onto my bicep with both hands, her nails clenching my jacket. The late afternoon sun casts orange shadows on her pale face and parted lips. Her blonde strands fly in the wind and get in her mouth and blow over the blindfold. She looks so beautiful with her hair down, especially since it’s grown to reach her shoulders. I wrap an arm around her waist and whisper in her ear,

“I told you to be careful.”

She purses her lips and starts to push me away. I...

“If you don’t want to fall to your death...

I lean down and catch a whiff of her scent. It’s…like her old self, but she started wearing some perfume Karina bought for her. Its floral fragrance has a subtle note of mystery. Note to self: Thank my sister for her immaculate taste. This is what I would’ve imagined Sasha to smell like if I’d first met her as a woman. Soft but shrouded in mystery.

She wraps her arm around my back to get better balance. Am I enjoying this? Definitely. Maybe more than should be allowed.

Also, I’m obviously sexually frustrated, because my cock won’t be on speaking terms with me until I get him in my wife’s cunt. However, he likes to twitch to life at the merest touch, so his current state is that of complete irritation.

“Say you’re sorry first.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For leaving me. For making me believe you were dead. I want you to say ...