Page 116 of Mine Again
No. Not good. Fucking unforgettable.
It was five years of longing, all erupting on one night.
I hadn’t planned to take her. But when she moved against me in her sleep, warm and soft, need radiating off her in waves, I lost what little restraint I had.
It was supposed to be just one taste. A stolen moment. But I should have known better. With Isa, one taste would never be enough.
“I cannot believe you took advantage of me when I wasn’t fully conscious,” she accuses.
I meet her glare without flinching.
“You were conscious enough to know what we were doing. You participated.”
The way she moaned and clung to me, the way she begged… it will forever be seared into my memory.
Her mouth twists. “I thought I was having sex with my husband.”
My jaw locks, teeth grinding at the reminder she thought she married Moretti. Fury claws under my skin, but I choke it back.
“You were,” I say, low and measured.
Her expression falters, lips parting on a protest that never comes. Her eyes search mine, dark with confusion.
I’ll make it clear.
“Iam your husband.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Luca
Isa stares at me, and I can’t tell if it’s horror or disbelief reflected in her eyes. Maybe it’s both.
“You and I?” Her voice trembles, then hardens. “We aremarried?”
Her gaze drops to her hand. She twists the ring as if it holds a secret. And it does. One she’ll uncover soon enough. A flicker of pain crosses her face as she flinches. Small. Barely noticeable.
But I see it.
And deep inside, something dark and satisfied coils low in my chest.
“I don’t remember saying I do to you.”
“Perhaps not,” I say with a shrug. “Still, the papers are signed. Filed. We are officially married. And our union is consummated.”
She straightens, shoulders squaring, defiance rising in her like a wave.
“Which brings me back to what I said first,” she spits. “How could you do that to me? You drugged me, Luca. I was disoriented. You can’t seriously think that counts as consent.”
My jaw tightens. I take a slow breath, steadying myself.
“You are my wife. In our world, most men take what belongs to them.”
Her eyes blaze.
“But you’re not most men. You never were. You taught me tofight, to think for myself. Yousawme.” Her voice cracks, but she doesn’t back down. “Don’t you dare act like I was just something to take.”
She’s right. At least about that.
