Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
The dress was an almost replica of the one she’d hacked into ribbons. The dress she’d been wearing when Ethan raped her. The vibrant orange bleeding into bruised midnight had been one of my favourite dresses on her—a representation of her as the Australian sun and me as the Turkish night—yet after what Ethan had done to her in that dress?
Fuck.
I was grateful she’d strewn it all over the sea...
So I was shocked fucking silent when she’d bought a twin dress that would undoubtedly bring back memories.
Maybe that’s why she did it?
Raking a hand through my hair, I asked softly. “Did you buy the dress to prove you’ve moved on from what he did or because you haven’t?”
She stopped brushing, her mouth parting a little. “You see so much more than I give you credit for.”
I smiled sadly. “I see everything about you, hayatım.”
Padding barefoot toward me, she pressed the softest kiss on my mouth. “I bought the dress because it was one of my favourites before what happened. And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’d look at me when I wore it either.” She laughed under her breath. “Your eyes would physically burn me. Your need would cover me like a cloud, and I’m not afraid to admit I wore it often to make you want me.”
“You’re a minx.”
She grinned. “That dress was mine before Ethan tainted it. I’ve moved on enough to reclaim it as mine. And I couldn’t think of a better night to wear it than going out to dinner with you on my birthday.”
“I love you, Neri,” I whispered against her lips.
“Seni seviyorum, Aslan.”
I headed into our bedroom to get ready.
My eyes never left Neri as she came to join me and slipped into her stunning sunset dress.
My heart tripped all over again as we left our home and summoned an Uber to take us to town. The entire time we drove there, I couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop touching her flawless skin or kissing her perfect mouth.
I loved that she was so brave.
I loved that she’d healed enough to wear something that made her happy.
I loved that she knew just how much that dress affected me.
And I loved that we were together.
Happy.
The dress symbolised a new beginning.
But really, it marked our ending.
If only she hadn’t worn it.
If only we realised how cursed that dress truly was.
Perhaps, if she’d worn something else, we might’ve avoided what happened next.
Chapter Eighteen
*
Nerida
AGE: 20 YRS OLD
*
(Love in Italian: Amore)
“WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE DOING HERE?” I laughed in surprise as I spun in the foyer of a tattoo parlour.
Aslan smirked, looking divine in a black long-sleeve shirt that he’d rolled up his forearms, revealing the powerful muscles from working with tools all day, along with the hint of ropey veins beneath his honey-dark skin. His hair was a tad too long, teasing with his collar in a perfect brown-bronze mess, and his acid-wash jeans hugged him just enough that I was constantly aware of how well-endowed he was.
“Happy birthday, canım.” Capturing my chin with his calloused fingers, he kissed me sweetly. Shooting a look at the heavily tattooed, pink-haired receptionist, he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, “I can’t mark you like the fantastical alphas in your filthy books. I have no power to inscribe your flesh with magic or bind us with joining ties. I can’t even marry you in the eyes of the law. So...this is the next best thing.”
I shivered as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin behind my ear, pushing aside my loose hair and making my nipples pebble beneath my sunset dress. I’d bought this for me—to give the final finger to Ethan as he receded into my past, but knowing how it affected Aslan made the night all the sweeter.
“How is it that I’ve had you three times today and I want you again?” he murmured.
I choked on a moan.
The receptionist giggled and looked away. I had no doubt she knew exactly how I was feeling. How flushed Aslan could make me with a single word, a single glance, a single graze or touch or look.
“You want to mark me with ink?” I whispered as he pulled away and pinned me to the spot with his stunning ebony eyes.
“If you’ll let me.”
“I have no idea what design I would get.”
“I do,” he murmured. “I’ve already sent it to the tattooist.”
“You have?” My eyebrows rose. “What is it?”
He chuckled. “You’ll have to wait and see. The women in your books don’t get a choice what mark their mates give them. You don’t either. But I promise you’ll like it.”
Goosebumps scattered down my arms at his intensity.
This wasn’t just something he’d randomly decided.
He wanted this.
He wanted something on my body to say I was his, and that sort of animalistic need made my heart leap with desire.