Page 111 of Ruined Vows
He had the chance. The timing was perfect. The permission—whether I said it out loud or not, mybodywas screaming it.
And he just walked away.
The audacity.
Does he not want me?
Am I losing my touch?
I shift beneath the covers, slick between my thighs, breathing fast.
God, I want him.
Not in the way I usually want things. Not for control orego or a rush of power. Iwanthim. The man, the negotiator, the wolf, I know he is. I want it all.
He’s a man who doesn’t make promises he won’t keep, and that’s what terrifies me.
Because now I don’t know what game we’re playing anymore.
Or worse—maybe he’s not playing anymore.
I throw the blanket off and sit up. This ends tonight. Either he breaks—Or I do.
And if I have to be the one to light the match? So be it.
I grab my phone off the nightstand, as if it owes me answers, and text the only person who will tell me the truth and still love me afterward.
You’re not gonna believe this.
HE STILL HASN’T FUCKED ME.
Joanne replies instantly.
Excuse me??? You’re telling me you wore the Ravella, smirked in slow motion, slept in the same hotel… and he WALKED AWAY?
Not even a kiss. Just vibes. And a glass of champagne. And a hand graze that fried my entire nervous system.
Well, that’s a kick in the pants. That man is playing the long game.
I hate him.
You’re obsessed. Admit it.
I’m MAD. He had every opportunity. He could’ve ruined me. And he… exercised restraint.
That’s not restraint, babe. That’s strategy. He’s under your skin. He has you wanting him.
I stare at the screen. It’s infuriating because it’s true. I want to scream.
What do I even do with that??
You show up to breakfast looking like a sin he should’ve committed last night. And then you don’t touch him. Make him sweat.
Oh, I plan to!
Make that man beg. Godspeed, sinner queen.
I don’t sleep. Not because the palace bed is uncomfortable. Not because I’m afraid of him—at least, not in the way people think. It’s because every time I close my eyes, I feel his voice on my skin.
