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He thought he could put me in the guest room out of sight and out of mind. I thought the fuck not.
“I apologize,” I said as I faced Darla again. “Do refrain from touching him. I’m possessive.”
“You’re mine. No one will ever have you again,” Benito growled against my lips before he kissed me viciously.
“You only wear what I buy you from now on. Got it?” “You are such an asshole.” “Yeah.” I shrugged. “But I’m your asshole.”
“I thought you were straight.” Irritation worked up my spine. “I am.” “Dude, no one who’s balls deep in their husband every night is straight. I need you to wake up and realize that choking on cock makes you at least, just the tiniest bit, bisexual at least.”
He sank against me, and I felt that stupid, illogical flip-flopping of my heart again. Everything seemed better when Harlow was in my arms.
I’d found myself plenty of times in the middle of the bed, wrapped in Benito’s arms. Had no idea how, when we both favored having one hand around a weapon at all times.
I could fall for that smile. Fall? For Benito? Seriously, have I sustained a brain injury?
“Fanculo a quello che mi fai.”
“I won’t have anyone else lay eyes on you. No one. I don’t give a fuck if this asshole is about to die. Even a second of seeing what’s mine is a second too fucking long.”
“I’m your husband. Your problems are mine. Stop carrying everything alone. You ha— You have me now.”
Was I happy? It kind of felt like I was. And it was all because of my husband. Shit, fuck, damn. I think I like Benito Vitale.
Harlow was mine. That man, that demon, belonged to me in every single way.
I couldn’t leave Benito even if I wanted to. We had a contract. Even more important, he had my fucking heart now. I couldn’t even recall when it had happened.
Fucker, this is all his fault. I didn’t care before, and now I’m over here missing him and shit.
“Benito, you can’t love both of us. I won’t compete with a ghost.”