Scott - Nothing in My Heart

E VERNIGHT PUBLISHING

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright 2018 Peri Elizabeth Scott

ISBN: 978-1-77339-686-6

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

NOTHING IN MY HEART

Peri Elizabeth Scott

Copyright 2018

Becketts big form blanketed her far smaller one as he increased his thrusts, driving her toward that cliff of mindless insensibility her orgasms always conferred. He braced his weight on his forearms, head tucked into her throat, lips tight against the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder.

Hed slipped into bed, naked and urgently erect, stripping off her nightgown with a muttered imprecation before bestowing a hard kiss that caused her to open to him, his mastery of her senses chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.

Her body instantly responded, the flush of arousal dampening her core, nipples tightening with desire as his big hands cupped and molded her breasts. There was no need for additional foreplay although he tested her readiness with a finger before settling between her thighs and entering her.

It was a vastly familiar, nightly routine, one she desperately anticipatedto her shameand their coupling tonight should have culminated the same way. With a climax, the sensation giving her the connection she craved, however fleeting, because that was all Beckett would give her.

But this time, the raw, torn center of her chest that was her excuse for a heart somehow rallied and hardened, pain and heartbreak numbing the physical delight her husband consistently drew from her, and Grace lost sight of that climax.

The magic of Becketts body, those long, smooth muscles of his shoulders beneath her clutching hands diminished in allure and her thighs loosened from around his sinewy flanks. She shuddered, finally accepting her legal servitude for what it was and her channel spasmed in concert around his thickness. Her husband groaned deep in his throat, a curious sensation against her skin as he came, her involuntary clench drawing out his seed.

As hed done countless times before, he pulled away from her to drop onto the mattress, withdrawing the flesh that was both the source of physical delight and a cruel reminder of her only role in his life. The space he put between them was immeasurable, though in truth she could feel the heat of his body radiating but a mere inch from hers.

Rather than close her eyes in the darkness and seek the oblivion sleep afforded as she did all the other times, Grace slipped from their bed and made her way to the attached bathroom. Closing the door quietly, she flipped on the light and ran water into the basin. As it gently steamed, she found a cloth to saturate and used it to wash her husband from her body.

A white visage stared back from the mirror, long, pale tangles of hair flowing over narrow shoulders, big gray eyes smudged with pain and resignation. She blinked and her reflection changed, now blank, mouth set in a thin line, those same eyes shuttered and empty, as her outside appearance caught up with her ravaged inside. Her belly was the last to protest the death of whatever intense emotion shed felt for Beck, the acrid taste of acid burning up the back of her throat, and she gagged.

The sound echoed back from the tiles and she hurriedly turned on the faucet back on to muffle it. Dipping her head to sip at the cold water, she welcomed the shock against her cheek and lips. She swallowed and soothed her nausea enough to straighten and dash the droplets of moisture away.

A tap on the door made her whirl to face it, her breath stuttering in her lungs. Beck was never tentative, never respected closed doors, and that too seemed to be a sign. Something had changed, whether for the better or not to be determined. She found she couldnt answer, couldnt find her voice, and so tugged the heavy wooden panel open.

Whats wrong? Her husband stared into her face, blue eyes a shade darker as he narrowed them.

Nothing. She was surprised at how normal she soundedher new normal. And equally surprised he displayed any concern when it came to her.

What are you doing in here? His gaze swept down her body, his cock stirring against his thigh.

Ignoring the flutter of interestsex had never been their issueshe forced a tiny smile, one that didnt feel like it fit. Whatever people usually do in a bathroom. Take your pick.

Sarcastic humor wasnt something she used or was proficient at, and Becketts eyebrows climbed his forehead. He said, I thought I heard you being sick.

And if that were a symptom Wouldnt that fall in with his plans? As well as his fathers and hers. Outnumbered I wasnt sick.

Another assessing stare, like a probe of her brain. Then come back to bed.

Or what, she mused? She didnt recognize this Grace, or at least, this side of her, and thought to sleep on it, the better to deal with Beckett another time. She slipped past him, his firm belly coasting over her arm, drawing an unwanted awareness, and went to her side of the bed that was the only place theyd connected since before their marriage.

His lamp was on, the bulb casting a warm, amber glow and highlighting her husbands sculpted chest and abdomen. Ignoring the way he drew her, she scooped up her nightgown and dropped it over her head, the silky fabric soothing as it enveloped her from head to toe. As armor, it was flimsy, but she was learning to take advantage of every little thing.

Theres no need to wear that. Her husbands voice was quiet but implacable as he climbed onto the mattress. The covers whispered as he drew them up and she focused on the thread of sound as it spoke to something deep within. A tiny whisper of rebellion.

Ignoring him, she lay down and pulled the sheet over her, her back to him, listening to the sudden silence.

It stretched out for an eternity before there was movement. She tensed, but a click sounded and the room plunged back into darkness. He kept his distance, as always, now their nightly ritual was over.

If theres something going on with you, lets hear it. His tone was tense, annoyed to her tutored ear.

She supposed the darkness invited confidences, if reluctant ones, but shed never again give him something to use against her. Maybe she was slow to learn but had painfully absorbed the essential lesson when it came to Beckett. He had the power to hurt her, whereas she had virtually none to retaliate. Except perhaps to take refuge in silence.

No, she wasnt yet equipped to win even a war of words, not without a plan, and seeing as shed only just come to recognize she was worth more than her current status as a pawn, she required some time.

Beckett didnt press the matter, doubtless writing off an aberration with ease. After all, wasnt she the malleable, meek, and mild young woman hed reluctantly married?

She drifted along the edges of slumber, no longer yearning for the man she once loved with all the agonized intensity a star-struck girl might feel toward a handsome, virile male whod swept her off her feet. The same man who had pursued her with single-minded intent, wooing and charming her, promising her such wonders in broadening her horizons.