Page 88 of You Owe Me

The question hits me right in the center of my fears. Because that’s exactly what I think. That I’m temporary. That I’m replaceable. That once he realizes how messy and complicated and fundamentally flawed I am, he’ll move on to someone easier. Someone better.

“You think I inked your favor into my skin because you’re disposable?”

His voice is soft but fierce, and when I look into his eyes, I see something that takes my breath away. Not just desire or possession or even love, though all of those are there.

I see permanence. Choice. The kind of certainty that doesn’t waver when things get complicated.

“I think… I don’t deserve you.” My words are barely audible.

He leans in, his lips brushing my cheek as he speaks. “Then be better. Tell me everything. But not right now. Not while I’m inside you.”

The combination of tenderness and filth in that statement makes me laugh—a broken, desperate sound that’s half sob, half relief.

“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

And then he moves, and thinking becomes impossible again.

The rhythm is different now—rougher, more desperate, like we’re both trying to fuck away the distance that secrets have created between us. I cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s spinning out of control, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on, makes him thrust harder, deeper, until I’m gasping his name and he’s growlingminelike we’re the only two people who exist.

“Good girl,” he says again, and this time, I don’t flinch. This time, I arch into it, letting it fill the spaces where doubt has been living.

“Mine,” he continues, and I nod frantically because yes, yes, I’m his.

“Only mine.”

And when I finally fall apart—when the tension that’s been building snaps and sends me spiraling into the kind of orgasm that rewrites your entire understanding of your own body—I scream his name into his neck and hold on for dear life.

He follows me over the edge with a groan that sounds like surrender, his whole body shaking as he empties himself inside me.

For a moment, the world goes quiet.

No lies. No secrets. No fears about the future or regrets about the past.

Just us, breathing hard in the aftermath, still connected in the most intimate way possible.

But I know it can’t last. Reality has a way of creeping back in, and mine is particularly stubborn.

Soon, I’ll have to tell him about Carter. About the blackmail.

Soon, I’ll have to face the consequences of all the choices I’ve made.

But not yet.

For now, I’m just going to stay here, in his arms, wearing his mark and carrying his claim.

For now, I’m going to let myself believe that love might be enough to survive what’s coming.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Rumor has it, she's about to lose everything.

Ainsley

The first sign that my world is about to implode comes at 7:23 a.m., when my phone buzzes with a text from a number I don’t recognize.

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