Page 77 of Inconvenient Marriage
Shit. My breathing stutters, heat spiking low in my belly in a way I can’t ignore—or hide. He has to know.
Hehasto.
Sebastien releases my wrist. I don’t even think of trying to buck against him so I can make my escape. He knows that, too. Still smirking, his hand slides up my side, slow and absolutely deliberate, before he wraps his fingers purposely around my throat.
It’s a soft hold. More question than warning, though I can’t pretend I don’t see what this really is.
Aclaiming. Not an Order Claiming, but something different. Something more meaningful. Sebastien is pinning me in place beneath him, keeping me right where he wants me.
My knees nearly give out, but I’m not worried. If they do? He’ll catch me before I fall. I believe that with everything I am even though I shouldn’t. Then again, this is Sebastien Reynolds. He is the definition ofshouldn’t,but God help me, I want to so fucking badly.
His thumb rests against the pulse hammering frantically beneath my skin.
“I caught you, love,” Sebastien says quietly, eyes locked on mine. “And now you’re mine.”
I am, aren’t I?
Then again, haven’t I been since that night in the Last Prayer?
TWENTY-THREE
AND I’LL FOLLOW
SEBASTIEN
My wife’s pulse hits my thumb like a drumbeat. It’s fast, panicked, alive, and I can’t tell if it’s because of Annaliese’s mad dash through the trees—or because I have her under me like this, knee lodged between her thighs, my hand a collar for her pretty, pretty throat.
My pulse is thudding, too, but I know why. As I peer down into her wide brown eyes, all I can think is: she ran away from me, but she didn’t get that far.
That’s okay. Let her run. I’d chase this woman to the end of the world, and it’s about time she figured that out.
“What are you running from?” I rasp, leaning in until our chests touch.
Her thighs close around me. She gasps, eyes fluttering shut for a second, her throat flexing under my fingers. But then she pops them open again as she whispers, “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, love,” I answer, my body over hers until only a few inches separate my forehead from hers, “you do.”
I let my thumb stroke the edge of her jaw. She shivers under my caress.
“You’re scared of what this is,” I say. “Scared of wanting something again. Scared it’s gonna blow up in your face like last time. But, let me tell you something, Mrs. Reynolds: it can’t. Itwon’t. Because I’m nothim.”
Her breath catches. Out here in the darkness, in the quiet, in the woods, I hear it. It’s a a small, broken sound that Annaliese tries to swallow, but it’s not us.
She’s not running from me. She’s running from the bastard that hurt her. She’s running from the promise of forever I offered her when I placed that pendant around her neck.
From the moment she proposed a marriage of convenience, spelling out her expectations in that marital agreement that I took pure fucking delight in burning, I could tell that she’d been hurt. She was wounded. I didn’t know if she could ever love again, but I crave her affection like Adrian used to fiend for a hit of nicotine.
I’m addicted to Anneliese Reynolds, and there’s no amount of rehab in this damn world that will get me to stop wanting her.
I’d hoped I could go slowly. I could, well, court her… woo her… take her on dates, show her my sweet side. Even when I was fucking up, making bad decisions or dealing with the aftermath of being blamed for Julie’s death, I never quite lost that part of me. Oh, I hid it. I covered it up with a cocky attitude, fighting anyone who got too close unless they were one of my brothers.
And then I looked into Annaliese’s brown eyes as she sat down one stool away from me at the Last Prayer. She was lost, but determined, and by the time I had a taste before she fucking walked away, I knew that I’d never forget her. Ididn’t. Three months later, I was still obsessing over a one-night stand, and when I had the second chance to keep her—toClaimher as only one of the Owed can—I jumped at it.
Fuck it. I’m nothing if not an opportunistic bastard, and I prove that I am more than ever while keeping her pinned beneath me.
Turning into her, I press my body to hers. Just like that afternoon by the waterfall, I don’t let her escape the proof of how much I want her. How much I’ve always wanted her.
Shifting my hips, I dig my erection into the soft side of her belly, near her hip.
