The Husband Beside Me (The Devil Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

“So which room are we going to?” I asked the manager, knowing full well that the St. Regis had designer rooms, which I had read in the newspaper.

“We have the Tiffany booked,” the manager smiled at me.

“I wanted the Presidential!” Daimon barked.

“Yes, I know, but like we told Ms. Somer, it was an impossibility since it had already been booked,” he said calmly. He knew how to deal with the rich and spoiled. “We have thrown in quite a few complimentary items to compensate,” he noted.

“Thank you,” I said, counting down the steps it took for me to get into that room and out of my dress.
Hold the phone. What will I be wearing if I’m not wearing my dress?

We stood in front of two large wooden handcrafted doors that the manager opened. I stood in a foyer that was decorated with golden flakes and Tiffany’s signature pale blue. Peonies in various vases were placed on a table that was against the wall underneath a large mirror. Daimon had just walked in like he owned it and had always lived here.

“If you need anything, we have assigned a butler to your room. Simply call the number and he will be glad to be of service.” The manger nodded and closed the door, leaving both Daimon and I utterly alone.

I watched as Daimon walked over to the bar and opened up a bottle of scotch. He poured until it nearly hit the rim of the glass. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gulped it down.

“Daimon,” I said quietly as I walked over to him.

The quiet room was filled with the sound of my dress rustling. He poured himself another, but I put my hand on top of his, trying to stop him. He turned and faced me, his eyes cold and distant.

“What, Addie? It’s not like we’re going to fuck. So why don’t you just go and leave me the fuck alone,” he said venomously.

I watched as the Daimon I knew, who was always in control, unravel before me. He flicked his hand so I could remove mine and poured again, filling it up to the top.

“Daimon, this isn’t you,” I stated.

He took one long swig of his drink and placed the glass down with such force he broke it.

“Me? You don’t even know me. All you wanted was money for your family,” he accused me, his hand shaking.

“You needed me too!” I fired back, hating the way he made me sound.

He stepped closer and towered over me.

“I know the type of person you are, Addie. You act all innocent and broken, but you use any excuse to be pitiful.” He leaned in that much closer. “It’s disgusting,” he said in a spitefully low voice.

“Who was that woman, Daimon?” I asked, knowing full well he was using me to vent out his anger. I knew because that was what made us
us
. We used each other as punching bags, unleashing our anger toward one another.

“Fuck off, Addie!” he stepped away from me, but I followed.

“Tell me!” I ordered.

Daimon stopped in mid-stride and turned to face me.

“The last time I checked, I was the one who paid for your sorry ass, so I am the one who orders you around. You don’t get to control me,” he said harshly. The smell of the scotch was strong on his breath and he spouted his ruthless words.

“Daimon, I just want to help,” I said quietly.

“You want to help?”

“Yes,” I admitted. It hurt to watch him like this.

“Then fuck me,” he said callously.

“What?” I breathed.

“You said you wanted to help me, so help me by fucking me, Addie,” he repeated in his cold tone.

“You are out of your fucking mind!” I growled as I walked away from him.

“Out of my mind? You’re fucking right; I’m out of my mind!” he cried out.

“I married a fucking pauper like you, who won’t even touch me!” he seethed.

“Daimon, not everything is about sex,” I fired back, as I was leaving the room.

“That night it was,” he shouted as he grabbed my arm, stopping me from going further. “That night you came to my penthouse and you needed me. You needed my touch on your body. You wanted my dick inside you.” I tried to fight back, but he grabbed onto both my arms and made me face him. “Admit it,” he commanded.

But I stood silent, his cold distant eyes, needling me. “Fuck, Addie, just say it. Say you needed me, not because of my money, not because of what I could offer you, but because I am me. Just say it!” he begged harshly as he shook me. “FUCK!” he bellowed and released me, when I didn’t answer. “You and your… fuck it.” He walked through the suite, leaving me completely stunned.

All I heard after that was the loud bang of the front door. Daimon had left.

I was left confused by his behavior and ashamed of mine. Daimon was right. I did seek him out because I wanted him. I just never realized how much I did until he brought it to the forefront of my mind. In some sick way, Daimon was comforting to me. He knew almost all my demons and was able to push me in ways I never thought I wanted, yet on our wedding night, I was standing in the middle of our lavish suite wanting him with me. Wanting to fight with him, wanting to fuck him and ease his pain.

The first day as husband and wife and Daimon had already left. I knew the drunken woman had triggered something inside him. I just wish I knew who she was. I let out the breath I was holding in for what seemed like the whole day and made my way around the suite. Each room was more opulent than the next. The signature colors of Tiffany were everywhere. You knew Tiffany took their time making this space one you could enjoy.

A large crystal chandelier with draped strands of pearls, hung over a white table with the same flower arrangements I had at the wedding. Small candles were lit surrounding a bottle of champagne and chocolate dipped strawberries. I was tired and needed a bed to sleep on. I avoided all the other rooms until I found the one I wanted. A gorgeous supple bed was there in the middle of the white room, a touch of the Tiffany blue could be seen peeking out at the head of the bed. I walked over and saw Esperance rose petals were strewed everywhere. I lifted the comforter and threw them onto the floor. Now what? I stood and had no fucking way out of this dress. I tried to take it off, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t reach the buttons, let alone the small zipper that lay beneath them. Fuck it! I took off my expensive and gorgeous shoes, feeling the blood rush back to my feet. I sat down on the bed and massaged them, trying to bring them back to life. God, it felt good. I then lay down. Since there was no way to take off this dress, I was just going to sleep with it on.

Daimon never came back. I couldn’t even sleep, not even if I was tired. I kept hearing him in my head. The image of his beautiful, enraged face haunted my mind. I looked to the end of the bed and saw tiny hints of the sun were coming up through the heavyset curtains. I closed my eyes wanting to rest them. The makeup, which I lazily left on, was now hurting my eyes. My body grew heavy. My head felt like it was sinking into my pillow.

That’s all I remember until I woke up, I was startled by the sound of the shower turning on. My heart raced at the noise. That was one of the deepest sleeps I had ever had. I looked around to see if I could see the time, but I couldn’t find a clock. My body cracking as I rose out of bed, I headed to the vanity in front of the window. Daimon had probably pulled back the curtains to make sure I woke up. I sat down and looked at myself in the mirror of the vanity. I looked like shit, not to mention I felt like it too. It might have been the deepest sleep I’d ever had, but all my dreams consisted of Daimon and his relentless questioning.

“I see you’re up.” I heard from behind me.

“I see you’re back. I seem to recall that our little deal said you were to stay with me at night,” I said rather pissy. I wanted something to throw back into his face.

“I didn’t leave you,” Daimon said nonchalantly.

“Ah! Yes you did,” I retorted as I got up from the chair.

“We got here early this morning. So no, I didn’t leave you. You see, Addie, I also can use my brain.” His tone was cold and rigid.

“Where did you go then?” I asked.

“I don’t recall us discussing disclosing what we do. If you want to, we can revise our contract,” he said bitterly. We both stood silently, he then left the room, leaving me stupefied.

Son of a bitch!
If I didn’t need him to get out of this stupid dress, I wouldn’t have bothered to speak to him the rest of the day, but damn it if I was going to spend another day in this dress. I marched into the dining room where the champagne was and saw him sitting down at a table filled with food. My stomach rumbled at the sight of it. The smell of coffee and tea lingered in the air, while fresh croissants and bagels were placed in abundance on elaborate plates. Fruits were freshly cut and beautifully placed on the table, making them look so appetizing, it took everything inside me not to launch myself on it and devour it all.

“You wanted something?” Daimon asked coldly. I looked to see him sitting at the head of the table with his paper open, glaring at me. A butler was standing behind him, I looked at him and he nodded. “Good morning, Mrs. Evans.”

“Hi,” I said meekly.

“If you need anything, just ask the butler.” Daimon shook his newspaper and continued to read.
Fine, asshole! If that’s what you want
.

“Sure, honey, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you. Mr. Butler Man, can you help me for a second?” I asked the butler.

“Yes, madam, what do you need?” He headed to where I was.

“Can you follow me to the next room and help me take off my wedding dress?” I said so sweetly, with a cute little smile, as I batted my eyes at the butler. I seriously felt bad for him since he was stuck in the crossfire of our cold war, but sometimes casualties were necessary.

“Son of a fucking whore,” Daimon said under his breath as he slammed his paper onto the table and marched over to me, grabbing my bicep and pulling me into the bedroom.

“Seriously, Addie?” he questioned as he slammed the door shut.

“What? You told me if I needed anything to ask the butler and I did.” I acted coy. Daimon’s stance was menacing.

“I will not have you embarrass me,” he growled low, as he approached me.

“I didn’t think I did.” I smiled dryly.

He grabbed my arm and swung me around. He unbuttoned the dress. I stood quietly as I held my breath. I could feel the heat emanated off his body. The low hum that existed when he was around me made my body throb. Once he was done, he reached for the zipper. He slowly and painstakingly pulled it down. As though he knew he was pushing me over the edge, his knuckle gently glided down my upper spine as he unzipped me. The mere touch of his hand on my back made me gasp.

I reined myself in, the moment I heard him catch his breath. I knew he finally saw the back of the corset Jessica had me buy. I let the dress fall to the ground, exposing my body to him. The corset was so sensational when I saw it, my mind went right to Daimon. It was from a French company. There was real bone placed inside to help bind my body to create a perfect hourglass figure. The back had a beautiful handcrafted satin string that interlaced and was tied tightly. Inside the corset was extra padding that helped my breasts come out, creating soft and supple mounds. The soft off-white silk chiffon overlay just added that extra
je ne sais quoi
. I finally felt empowered after he had tried to rip my power away last night. Small garters hung off the corset as they clipped onto my stockings.

“Thank you,” I said softly, stepping out of my dress.

“Don’t you need help getting the corset off?” he asked, his voice now low and gruff.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said, smiling softly as I reached back and pulled on the string. “See.” I then reached with both my hands and pulled it off gently.

Not to seem too pushy, I left it on as I turned back to see Daimon standing where I had left him and my dress. His sky-blue eyes watched me like a hawk. The darkness that lay just beneath them cried out to my body. If I wasn’t careful, this game I was playing with him would end up blowing up in my face. But that look, that hungry look he gave me, pulled me in.

I pulled back, not able to look at him anymore. I somehow made my way to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and leaned up against the counter.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Addie?” I asked myself as I tried to calm whatever I was feeling down.

Thank God, all the amenities were in the bathroom because there was no way I was going to go back out there. I took off the corset and the stockings and stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away everything I was feeling and thinking, in addition to the wetness of my pussy. How the fuck was I going to last three years with Daimon without fucking it all up? This was a deal, a business deal, which we both needed. He needed a fake wife and I needed money. I hated him and how he treated me and he hated how I acted with him. So all I had to do was focus on how much of an asshole he was and I should be fine. But my body, my stupid body, craved his every touch. He was a jerk, who knew exactly how to play me. He knew buttons that existed in me that I didn’t even know.

Okay, Addie, let it go and finish with your shower
. I could feel the wetness of my pussy as my legs rubbed together. I reached down and felt how swollen I was. I was dripping wet. I was in such need. God, I was in such need; I ached. I closed my eyes and licked my lips, remembering how he looked in his suit. How he held me in his arms as we danced. I delved my fingers in deeper, seeking more, wanting more. My head fell back as I worked my pussy tenderly. My pussy quivered as I kept rhythmically circling my nub. My orgasm was close. I braced against the shower wall as my body shook. I bit down, stifling my moan. Trying to catch my breath as my pussy clenched, still feeling the soft rippling of my orgasm, I took deep, calming breaths.