Page 86 of Filthy Lies

“If you ever—ever—put yourself at risk like that again,” I growl against her throat, “I will lose my fucking mind, Rowan. Do you understand me?”

She shivers, not with fear but with something darker. “Yes.”

“You think you’re protecting me?” I bite the sensitive juncture where her neck meets her shoulder, hard enough to mark her. “You think I need your protection?”

Her breath hitches. “Sometimes, yes.”

I stand abruptly, lifting her with me. Dinner forgotten, I carry her to the wall and pin her there, my body pressed against hers.

“I protect what’s mine,” I tell her, voice rough. “Not the other way around.”

I expect defiance. Argument.

Instead, her pupils dilate, swallowing the green of her irises. “Then protect me,” she whispers. “Right now.”

A tangled knot inside me rips loose—all the rage and fear and twisted pride I’ve been fighting since seeing those surveillance photos.

I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss. I don’t hold back or go easy on her. She doesn’t deserve that.

She responds in kind, her hands clawing at my shirt, ripping buttons in her haste. I tear her blouse open, buttons scattering across the floor like tiny diamonds. Her breasts have changed since motherhood—fuller, more sensitive. When I cup one roughly, she gasps into my mouth.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” I order against her lips.

“You won’t.”

But I might. The darkness coiling inside me wants to punish her for today, to remind her that while she might act independently, she still belongs to me.

Bodyandsoul.

I hike her skirt up around her waist, finding her already wet through her panties. The discovery only fuels my possessiveness. Even in betrayal, her body responds to me.

“This is mine,” I growl, tearing the delicate fabric aside. “No matter what games you play with the FBI, no matter what risks you take,thisbelongs to me.”

Her head falls back against the wall. “Yes.”

I free myself from my pants, lifting her easily. Her legs wrap around my waist and her heels dig into my back.

“Look at me, Rowan.”

Her eyes meet mine, glazed with need.

“I need to hear you say it. That you’re mine. That no matter what schemes you concoct, no matter what risks you take, you belong to me first.”

“I’m yours,” she breathes. “Always yours, Vince.”

I enter her in one smooth thrust, watching her face contort with pleasure. She’s tight, almost virginal again, but she takes me with a tortured gasp.

“Who makes the decisions that affect our family?” I ask, remaining motionless inside her.

Her eyes flash with defiance. “We both do.”

I withdraw almost entirely, the head of my cock teasing her entrance. “Try again.”

She bites her lip, fighting the urge to push against me. “You do,” she finally concedes.

“That’s right.” I thrust back in, rewarding her submission. “I do. Because every choice has consequences, Rowan. Every risk puts Sofiya in danger. Puts you in danger.”

I begin to move in earnest, each thrust punctuating my words. She clings to me desperately. Her nails dig crescents into my shoulders as I fuck her against the wall, hard and deep.

---