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For all the book lovers who break free from their stifling beginnings. May your middle and end have lots of hot, dirty sex.
blade under the pillow on the other side of the bed just in case.
“You could’ve,” he agrees easily, carrying the bags toward the car. “But you didn’t.” I scowl. “Because you didn’t give me a choice.” He pauses at the passenger door, glancing at me, his gaze steady. “You could’ve fought harder.”
Already there, angel. Just waiting on you.
If I stop proving to myself that I can have beautiful, unnecessary things just because I want them, then maybe I never really escaped at all.
“You’re restless. You’re waiting for someone to give you permission to live the life you’ve always wanted. Truly wanted. Not the life you’re supposed to have… but the one you want more than your next breath.”
My body still remembers the way she clenched around my tongue, the way she tasted on my lips, the way she shook for me. All mine, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
she’ll have no idea what she’s rubbing into her skin. But I will. And every time she touches her wrist, every time she catches a whiff of that sweet, familiar scent, she’ll be wearing me. Carrying me. Marking herself as mine
“Angel, the only way I’d ever hurt you is if you begged me for it. If you got on your knees, looked up at me with those pretty, desperate eyes, and asked me nicely.”
For over a year, locked in a cell, I traced the lines of her face. Memorized every shadow, every soft curve. I built her in my head, piece by piece, until she became more than an image. She became my reason.
She’s mine to take care of now. Even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
Because watching her isn’t enough. I need to feel her. Breathe her in. Taste her. I decide that I’m done watching her, because right now, all I want to do is consume her, body and soul.
I really fucking missed the way he makes me feel small—protected. Desired
“Jesus—” she hisses, but the sound doesn’t hold any anger. I smirk. “Not quite, angel. Try again.”
your body already knows who it belongs to.”
“Sleep tight, angel. Don’t you dare dream about anyone else but me,”
“Come on, angel,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you back on solid ground.” I haven’t been on solid ground since we met, I think.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone.” She swallows hard, her breath shaky. “And who’s going to carry it for me?” I don’t hesitate. “Me.”
“I don’t know why you’re doing this. You can’t have me.” I smirk, leaning in so our noses almost brush. “Watch me.”
“But I’m getting real fucking tired of watching you pretend you don’t want this just as much as I do.”
She’s unraveling. And I can’t wait to watch it happen, because as soon as she does… She’s mine. Wholly. Completely. Forever.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Let him walk away without knowing how completely mine you are right now.”
“You’re mine,” he hisses, cracked and reverent, every syllable seeping into my bones. “My perfect little angel. That’s my girl.”
she’s not sure she should be here. Like perhaps… if she crosses this threshold, there’s no going back. Because there isn’t. Not really, anyway.
The problem is, I don’t fucking care about the right thing. I care about her
I fucking love how submissive she becomes with me—fiery during the day, and soft as silk beneath me when she lets go. It’s fucking beautiful
I do know about it. And for the record? I think it’s fucking cool.”
“Hey. You should be proud.” He brushes his lips against my cheek again, more reverent this time. “Don’t ever be ashamed of being passionate about something.”
turns out freedom means fuck all if you’re just sitting alone in a glass box at the top of the city, wondering who’s going to remember you when you’re gone.”
“I’m not trying to trap you,” he whispers. “I’m trying to show you you’re free. As long as you’ll let me worship you wherever that freedom takes you.”
“Fine. I want you in my bed every night, with my ring around your finger, and then I want to fuck babies into you. Happy?”
Of course the fucking past has to show up the second I try to give her a future—and the second one small breeze might make me come.
“She chose me. Not because I swooped in, but because you left the door wide open and never even noticed.”
“I think I’m the man who’d die for her. I think I’m the man who wouldn’t trade her for a promotion or a calendar full of conference calls. I’d never even think of letting let her settle for less than what she fucking deserves. And just so we’re clear—neither of us deserve her—but I’m the only one who’d burn this whole fucking world to the ground just to keep her.”
I swear to fucking God, I’ve never wanted to protect someone more than I want to protect this woman. This woman who chose me despite my past, despite everything.
“What’s your favorite? I should know.” I arch a brow. “You stalked me, Maddox. You should already know.”
I forget the gravity of everything. I forget the weight of what came before. He looks at me like I hung the stars.
I love how badly he wants me. How he doesn’t hide it or make me guess. How he’s barely holding it together, even now, in my sunlit kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon, surrounded by bags of boring groceries. He wants me all the time. And the worst part? I love it. I love being wanted like this.
“I’ve had twenty years to think about the shit I’d do if I ever got out. Turns out, cooking for someone I give a damn about was high on the list.”
“He cooks, he cleans, and he looks like he’d kill for you. No notes.”
Just me. The man who’s going to spend the rest of his life making sure you know you were never too much. That you were always worth choosing.”
