Hexed (Never After, #6)

by Emily McIntire

He told me in a different life, he’d love me out loud. Letting him walk away is my way of loving him

A coral seashell on a black rope. The one I wouldn’t let him buy me.

I place the seashell around my neck. It’s cold against my skin, and heavy, and every time I take a step, I feel it pressing on my chest, reminding me that at least once, there was someone who made me feel loved out loud. And I’ll accept nothing less again.

I can’t marry her. I won’t.

“But, Daddy…” She sniffles. “It’s not up for discussion.” “I love him.”

Because if Aria wasn’t the one who saved me, then who the fuck was?

And maybe it’s because I’m drunk that I swear I can feel Venesa here. I brush it off because that’s ridiculous. Nobody can actually feel a specific other person. That’s shit you see in the movies. Not real life.

I’ve never been the jealous type, but I can’t stand watching other people touch her.

Goose bumps sprout along her skin, and I want to lick them. I hold myself back, but only just.

I lean against the wall, slipping my hands into my pockets for no other reason than I’m not sure I can control what I’ll do if I let them free.

“Baby, you walk into a room and every head turns. You think you can be anywhere I am and I won’t notice?”

Kiss the girl

“I’m going to kiss you. And I promise it will be the best one of my life.” “How do you know?” My thumb slips along her lower lip, my eyes following the movement. “Because it’s with you.”

Fireworks explode in my chest, sparks floating down and settling deep in my abdomen. Everything around me dims, paling compared to this moment. I’m finally kissing the woman I’m in love with.

I’m immersed in everything Venesa, and I could live here forever.

It’s like she’s been starved for so long and now that she’s given in, she can’t get enough.

Knowing I’m the only one to get that from her? It’s a gift. One that fills me up and makes me want to fall and worship at her feet. Which I do.

When I glance at her, my stomach clenches and flips. She’s breathtaking.

Heaven. This must be what it feels like.

“I know you’re used to taking control, to having everything at your beck and call, but when it’s us, I want you to relax and let go. Let me take care of you. Can you do that for me, baby?”

I’m desperate for her. To memorize the way she looks right now—right this second—when we’re so connected, it feels like the world could burn down around us and nothing but this moment would matter.

I press my mouth to hers, wanting to suffocate myself with everything that is Venesa until I drown.

“Trent shouldn’t be running the Kingston empire, Venesa. It’s supposed to belong to you

Just knowing Venesa is in my city has me walking around with pep in my step.

I love her. It’s fast, but I don’t give a fuck. In this life especially, you never know when your time is up, and I’m not willing to waste another second without her.

The universe doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. Laughing, I press my palms to my eyes. I sound like Venesa with her woo-woo shit.

Every sense of mine is attuned to Venesa, and she drowns out the rest of the world.

“She can come in whenever she wants, Jessica. In fact, anytime you see her face, assume I need the rest of the day to myself. I expect you to clear my schedule, treat her like she owns you, and get her anything her heart desires. Do you understand?”

“You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

The noise of her happiness is cute and so different from her normal tone, but I like them equally, and I make a mental note to ensure she gives me both her joy and her neutrality every single day. Because I plan to have her with me now, every single day, and I want to have every part of her.

“Now be a good girl and let me eat.”

I’m starving for her, and ever since my first taste, I haven’t been able to get the memory of it out of my mind.

I’ve never been a sweets kind of guy. I much prefer the salty, tangy taste of a woman.

“Hands on the window, baby. Don’t you fucking move.”

It’s a beautiful sight. She’s dirty and depraved, and so fucking mine.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” I say. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I want to burn him to the ground and take his kingdom for myself.” Anticipation lights up my insides, and I cup her cheek, ghosting my thumb across the planes of her face. “Then let’s make you queen of the ashes.”

This is a whole new world for me.

“She’s the only girl.”

“That butcher shop right there?” I look at where he’s pointing, a bright white sign with blue writing that says “Max’s Meats.”

“You know, you’re actually a really sweet guy.” He looks at me like I’ve offended him. “I’m incredibly sweet, and it’s offensive you thought I wasn’t.”

“What’s so funny?” “Nothing, this is just…our thing, I guess. Touristy outings followed by a round of torture.”

He looks just like my aunt Antonella, and I’ve always hated her. She was the Wicked Witch to my Dorothy, the evil stepmother to my Cinderella.

I’ve never been in a relationship before, and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure that’s what we are now, but I like how he cares for me in a way nobody else ever has.

Orgasms and torture. They really go hand in hand.

“And you did all this…for me?” He glances up from his weapon and smiles widely. “I’d do anything for you.”

Enzo laughs like he’s happy I stepped in and bitch-slapped his hostage.

“I’m tired of this game. I have a woman to keep happy, and every second I spend here with you is a second longer I’m not alone with her, so tell me what I need to know.”

Betrayal is a disease. A slow-moving bitch of a thing that goes down like cheap liquor, burning your throat and sitting sour in your belly.

Hazy brown eyes. A murmuring voice. “What did they do to you?” “Don’t die. Don’t let them win.”