My Father Married Me to the Man I Watched Shoot Someone, and the Only Witness Is His Wife novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: The Choir Loft

I woke him on the morning of the seventh of January with my mouth.

Seventeen days had passed since the wedding, and I had stopped counting them out loud.

The room was gray and cold, and the window showed lake and ice and a long pink line at the edge of the sky.

He woke in a breath, his hand fisting in the sheet.

"Nadia," he said.

"Be quiet," I said.

He was quiet.

I took him in my mouth slowly, with my hands on his hips, and felt the whole length of him go taut.

I heard him swear, softly, in Serbian.

He was hot and hard and salty, and I took him as deep as I could and drew back and did it again.

"God," he said.

"God, Nadia."

"You may touch my hair," I said.

His hand slid into it and held on, not guiding, just there, trembling.

I took my time.

I learned the places that made his breath catch.

I looked up at him and found his eyes on me, black and wide.

"You are going to kill me," he said, helpless.

"Not today," I said.

I lifted my head and climbed up over him.

I took him inside me, slowly, in the cold gray light.

Then I lay down on him, and he rolled us both over until I was on my back and he was above me, braced on his forearms.

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