Keep Me (Sinful Manor, #1)

by Sara Cate

“Touch me, and I swear you’ll die in your sleep,” she mutters with vitriol. “Being dead would be preferable to being married to an ugly, selfish cow like you,” I say. It’s like a game. One insult is traded for another until we’re both satisfied. “You mean nothing to me.” “Good!” she snaps. “Then I’ll just go back down to Liam.” She tries to move away, but I yank her back toward me. When I do, I spot a hint of moisture in her eyes. Something I said hit a nerve. “Over my dead body,” I bellow. She swings an arm out toward me. I snatch it at the wrist before it can make contact with my face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she shrieks. “You want me to fuck your friend so you can be free of me. Just keep living the way you always have, Killian. So nothing has to change.”

“I need to be inside you, Sylvie. I need to make you my wife.”

I stare at Sylvie’s father, mentally begging him to do something. To stand up for his fucking daughter, but he doesn’t. He stays silent. For one second too long. Sylvie sniffles through the silence as her mother stares contemplatively at her. Then, the woman shakes her head as she softly mutters, “Ever since the day you tore your own portrait to shreds, I knew you’d never be happy unless you were the center of our universe. Poor little Sylvie, always so desperate for everyone’s attention. What an entitled little bitch you’ve turned out to be.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” I bellow so loudly the art on the walls trembles from the noise. “What on earth is wrong with you?” the woman shrieks. “You,” I shout, reaching forward to take her by the collar and yank her out of her chair. “You…are not welcome in our home anymore.” With that, I drag her toward the door. Somewhere behind me I hear the man nervously stutter, “Get your ha—hands off my wife.” As we reach the front door, I nearly throw the woman toward the exit. She stares at me with horror before glancing at her daughter. “This is the kind of man you’ve married? Someone who resorts to violence and outbursts?” “Why should we leave our daughter with you?” the man argues as he takes his place at his wife’s side. “Because I love her, you fucking twats. And I would never talk to her the way the pair of you do. And for your information,” I add, pulling open the front door to find a deluge coming down outside. I put my finger in Sylvie’s mother’s face this time as I lean in. “Your child is supposed to be the center of your universe, you ungrateful, selfish bitch.”

“Leave me alone, Killian! You lied! You don’t love me! You’re not my husband. None of this is real!” I grab her by the arms to stop her. “What are you talking about? Of course, I love you.” She struggles to shake free of my grip. “You do now, but the novelty will wear off. You’ll get sick of me, or I’ll ask too much, and then you’ll get angry at me. Didn’t you see the way they looked at me, Killian? How could you love someone who isn’t loved by her own parents?” My mind is reeling as I stare at her in this state. This isn’t the Sylvie I know. Her eyes are wild and frantic and scared. I just want my wife back. When she finally slips out of my grip from the rain on our skin, I watch in horror as she takes off in a sprint toward the trees lining the property and quickly disappears.

“Stop running from me, damn it!” “Leave me alone, Killian!” she fights back. “No!” I bellow close to her. “I’m your husband. I won’t let you go. I will always be by your side. I will always care about you, you understand?” Tears fall against her cheeks, blending with the drops of rain that continue to pour down on us. “You’re not really—”

“Don’t you say that to me again, Sylvie Barclay. I don’t care about some stupid fucking contract. I love you. With my whole fucking chest, I love you. So don’t give me any of that shite about not being your real husband, because I’m right here. And I’ll never fucking leave you, not like they did.”

“So, no one else loves you. Big deal. But I’m here, mo ghràidh. And I am telling you that I will love you enough to make up for all of them. I will keep you, and you can trust me that no matter what you do, I won’t let you go. Because you’re mine, understand me?”

“You are a masterpiece, Sylvie,” I whisper against her hair. “I’m a mess.” “We’re all a mess, but the trick is to find someone who thinks your mess is a masterpiece. Your parents might be blind fucking eejits, but I’m not. I know a masterpiece when I see it.” For the first time since before those monsters showed up today, I see my wife smile. After a moment, she softly whispers, “I love you.” My heart starts to pound, and I have to force myself to breathe, but I try not to let it show. Instead, I stroke her back and let those three words wash over me. “I love you too, Sylvie.”

“Come on, Sylvie. We can do this.” When I finally peel myself off the bed and stand in front of him, I drink in my last look. The last moment when I will see him as my husband. The last time I will see him as his wife. After I’ve had my fill, I move toward the door. But first, he scoops me into his arms and holds me tight against him. Even as I wrap my hands around him, I feel half gone. “I’m gonna miss you, my wee little wife,” he whispers in my hair. “Please take care of yourself, you brute,” I reply. But when I finally tear myself away, I don’t look back. I can’t. If I look into his eyes again, I’ll never leave. And right now, he desperately needs me to.

“I love you,” he whispers with each one, and I swear I could die of happiness right here. All this time, I was afraid Killian would move on without me, or that I was the one dragging him down. Instead, I managed to guide him out of the hell he had been living in. And I didn’t even know it. “I love you,” I whisper in return. “I mean it, Sylvie,” he says, lifting his eyes to my face. “I’m here, and I’m all yours. For as long or as much as you want me.” A smile stretches across my face as I pull his lips to mine. “I want you forever, Killian.” “Good,” he mumbles into the kiss. When he finally eases out of me, I can already feel the warm cum sliding out of me. With a wicked grin, he leans down and pushes it back in. I bite my bottom lip as I watch him. “Then you keep this,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “Forever.”

“You’re still my wife, Sylvie. I’m not just going to get rid of you.” “Technically…” I start, about to point out the fact that we are neither real nor fake married anymore. “Don’t say it,” he groans. “We will be fixing that as soon as I recover from this bloody jet lag.” “What?” I snap, staring at him in shock. “Getting married?” “Yes,” he mumbles. I let out a gasp as I try to move away. “You’re not even going to ask me first?” “I don’t need to ask you,” he complains. “Why not?” I shriek. “Because I know what you’ll say. What the fuck is the point of asking?” “To be romantic!” I try to climb off the bed, but he doesn’t let me get far. Holding me around my waist, he pins me down to the bed, shifting his weight on top of me. I let out a howl of laughter as I struggle to get away, but he’s too strong. “Since when are you and I romantic, wench?” Putting his face in the crook of my neck, he growls, making me yelp as goose bumps erupt all over my skin. “Fine. I’ll marry you again, but you have to stop calling me names like cow and wench,” I say with a moan as his growls turn into kisses. “No deal,” he replies curtly. My arms wrap around him as I smile. Then I find my mind going back to the house as it so often does. “So…” I start. “Did you really give the house to your aunt?” “Yes,” he says on an exhale. “And you’re okay with that?” “It’s just a house. If it means that much to her, she can have it.” “Where will you live?” I ask, although I already know the answer. “With my wife,...