Page 63 of Beneath the Scars
“You’re a fucking sight, Trouble. You know that?” Michael’s words are a quiet rumble through his chest.
“You make me believe it.”
He picks me up, my legs naturally wrapping around his waist. I carefully rest my forearms on his shoulders, ensuring my hands don’t brush his back. I press gentle kisses to his cheeks and forehead, reveling in the tiny smile that pulls at his mouth. He lays us down on his bed, the dark grey comforter soft under my bare skin.
“I think you’ve cast a spell over me. I’m wholly and unequivocally addicted to you, Adalaide.”
“Good. I’ve achieved what I set out to do.”
Michael laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He kisses me, whispering against my mouth, “Witch.”
“You gonna do something about it?” I taunt.
“Nope. I find I quite like being under your spell.”
“Then my work here is done.”
Chapter 34
Journal Entry #305
I fucked up.
Somehow, despite my well-crafted ability to control myself, I managed to tell Adalaide that no other man was allowed to touch her but me.
Where the fuck did that even come from?
I’ve fantasized about having her in my bed. I’ve dreamed that one day she’d look at me and say she loves me as much as I do her. But never, not once, did I think I’d dictate her sex life.
I have no excuses. She was drunk and shared the fact that she’s a virgin with me, and instead of being a good guy and helping her home like I should’ve, I told her that her virginity belongs to me now.
Fucking hell, what do I do?
I need to take it back. I should apologize and tell her to ignore what happened. She’s freeto do whatever she wants, and I won’t say a word.
But I don’t want to do that.
The way she looked at me after I demanded she save herself for me had me harder than I’ve been in years.
I imagined her saying, “Yes, Sir,” and now I can’t get the fantasy out of my head.
The woman of my dreams wants me to take her virginity.
How does a man say no to that?
Chapter 35
Michael
Dark eyes blink at me from under long lashes.
“Don’t give me that look. You’re in big trouble,” I grumble.
Shadow snorts, lifting her head as if to say, “Yeah, right.”
Hands on my hips, I stare down the massive black horse. “Are you going to be good and walk with me back into the field again, or do I need to call Mr. Lambert?”
She gives me another snort but turns toward the field on the side of the road. I walk with her through the gate until she’s safely back where she belongs.
