Her lips part as if she's about to deny it, but then she laughs—a quiet, throaty sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "You always were too clever for your own good." The softness slips from her tone like a discarded mask. "And I thought you liked games."
I should pull back. Distance myself. But her proximity has a gravity all its own, one I can't seem to resist. Her pulse beats fast against my fingers, and I wonder if it's fear or excitement or, if with her, there's ever any difference.
"What are you doing, Mads?" I keep my voice steady even as my heart begins to race.
She leans closer, her breath warm against my skin. "Taking what I want," she murmurs. "Isn't that what you always liked about me?"
My grip on her wrist tightens just slightly, enough to remind her who she's dealing with. "Anna only wants harmony with you. Why can't you accept that and work with her instead of against her?"
"Maybe I don't want harmony."
"Then what is it you do want?"
Her smile widens, sly and wicked, but there's something desperate in her eyes now, too. She's pushing, testing, waiting for me to respond.
"You," she whispers, the word a confession and a challenge all at once. "I want you, Domhnall. Not her. Me. I was always the one who wanted you. I was the one who broughtus back here. I was the one who fought battles of wits with our father and won. Me. But now I'm forced into the shadows while she gets to live with you in the light? It's bullshit!"
The air between us feels electric, every nerve in my body attuned to her. But this is Mads—chaos wrapped in allure, always walking the line between vulnerability and manipulation.
I lean in, my voice dropping to a near growl. "And why should I give you what you want?"
She doesn't flinch, meeting my gaze with a steady intensity that borders on defiance. "Because I'm the one who understands you," she says, her voice firm now, any pretense of shyness gone. "The real you. Not the version you show the tender little lamb."
She reaches down and grabs my balls in a rough grip that has my cock immediately stiffening.
Her words cut deep, too close to truths I'm not ready to face. But instead of pulling away, I find myself leaning closer, the tension between us a tether I can't seem to break.
"You wouldn't have to pretend with me," she says softly, her voice so low it's almost a whisper. She never breaks eye contact as she squeezes my balls harder, a bold move Anna would never dare. "I'll wear your leash 24/7 and let you own me completely in ways she can't even begin to understand. But I do."
She releases her grip on my balls, and her hands slide up to my chest, eyes searching mine.
I could argue. I could push her away, call her bluff, and strip her of this power she's trying to wield over me.
"You think you know me?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend. "You think this…" I gesture between us with my free hand, "…means anything?"
Her lips curve into a small, almost wistful smile, as if she sees right through the armor I've thrown up. "I know the parts you don't show anyone else," she murmurs, her fingers curling into my shirt. "The darkness you hide. The hunger you bury."
I don't move, caught in the storm of her and the gravity of her words. I love the fiancé I live with every day. The one I picked out curtains with earlier before she left for movie night at Moira's. I love the light she's brought into my life.
But Mads's words still send a pulse of heat through me, sharp and undeniable. She's always known how to find the cracks in my walls, slipping through before I can reinforce them.
"And you think you're the one to satisfy it?" I counter, my voice low and dangerous.
She doesn't flinch. If anything, her smile grows bolder, her gaze darkening with something that feels like victory. "I know I am."
Her hand slides upward, her fingers grazing the side of my neck, and I feel her pulse against my own, wild and unsteady. I tighten my grip on her wrist, but it's not to pull her away—it's to keep her close, because she's right.
She always has been.
"Mads…" I start, my voice trailing off because I'm not sure what I mean to say. A warning? A question? Maybe both.
If I give in to her tonight, am I… am I cheating on my fiancé?
"Don't," she whispers, leaning in until her lips are a breath away from mine. "Don't ruin this with your conscience. Not tonight."
The room feels smaller, the air thick and charged.
There's no rulebook for this. Anna tells me she wants every bit of intimacy, whether she's presenting as Anna or Mads. I have permission. But I'm not sure Anna knows what she's giving permission to. Does she know Mads is here tonight, trying to seduce me away from her?