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“See how much control I have over you?” he mutters. His mouth is so close to mine that his lips move against my skin. “Imagine your entire body covered in these knots. Imagine not being able to move an inch as I use you. Do you like the sound of that, Ms. Aubert?”
“Good girl,” he says with a low growl. His free hand pets my hair, and I start to sway.
For the first time since I walked in that door, I’m filled with a sense of danger. Not at risk of being hurt but at risk of loving this too much. In danger of never wanting this to end. And winding up very brokenhearted.
I never felt so close to Em. Camille doesn’t deserve this version of me. She is too
“Fine, Jack,” I reply with a shaky voice. “Let’s just go back to the way things were before when you hated the sound of my voice, and you never came out of your room, and you lived like a shadow in your own house. Back when you hated me. It was much easier that way.”
Because at the end of the day, I know that if I had to choose between having him or having her, I have to choose her. Every time. And I know he feels the same.
We are a storm, a violent force of nature that can’t be stopped.
I don’t want this to end. I want Jack St. Claire to lay claim to my body, bury himself inside me, and never leave. I want my body to be his home.
“My good girl,” he mumbles against my mouth. “My sir,” I reply.
I was consumed by grief for so long it felt like I was frozen in a block of ice for years. Camille came into my life and brought the warmth that thawed me.
I can handle whatever is thrown our way. I’ve crawled out of the darkness once. I can do it again.