I warned you that night on the cliffs that it’d make you mine.” When I glance up, she’s staring at me, eyes wide and wary. “Not just my Duchess or my steady fuck. I let you in. You get that, don’t you? I opened my soul to you, Vinny. I know it’s ugly—maybe it doesn’t even mean anything to you, but—” “It does,” she argues, frowning. Her fingers thread tentatively through my hair, my eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. “I’m just trying to take care of it,” she whispers, voice rough as gravel.
