Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

Yes.

Always.

“I saw the way he kisses you…my little nun doesn’t like it sweet. Are you that desperate?”

I swallowed, voice rough. “This is where we’re supposed to be, Grayson. Everyone wins.”

His lips were on my neck, hot, soft. “I love my name from your lips.”

He trailed his other hand from the arch of my neck, along my shoulder, down my arm, to the exposed skin of my wrist. I swallowed a sigh.

“Grayson…”

He either didn’t care, or he was done talking. His lips were a sultry, teasing whisper at my neck. Not quite a kiss, but not leaving the flesh. He swirled his touch along the bone at my wrist and made my gut ache for more.

He moved even closer until we were practically one. He was hard on my hip, and my heartbeat sped. I wanted him. I couldn’t stop wanting him, but I didn’t want to be this person.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

His smile stretched along my neck. “No you don’t.”

“I’m leaving. You’re letting me leave. You’re just my friend.”

“No I’m not. I’ll never be just your friend.”

I squirmed to get away, and he gripped my chin, whatever game he was playing vanishing like the sun above us into the lacy winter clouds.

“Seriously, Story. What would I have to do to win you back?”

“I’m married. You’re married—”

“I don’t care. I’ll be with you even if you’re married. I’ll love you if you marry all the men you meet. I’ll love you if you join a convent. I don’t fucking care, Snitch.” He grabbed my face with both hands. “Let me love you.”

I tried to shove him, but he was too strong. “You’ve broken my heart too many times.”

“I won’t force you to stay, Snitch. I won’t lock you in a tower. But I’m going to follow.”

His words made my blood freeze. “What?”

“I’ll follow you. To the sea. To the moon.”

I bit my lip to stop the smile. “You kind of sound like a stalker.”

A smile flickered and died on his lips. “You’ve reduced Grayson Crowne to this. A lowly stalker.” He slid his hands underneath the jacket he’d given me, hands roaming my body like he’d been starved of it. My rib cage, my hips. All places …innocent…friendly…right?

“You said you wouldn’t…” I breathed. “We wouldn’t.”

“What?” He shot me a wicked smile. “I’m not kissing. I’m not doing anything. I’m just touching you. Friends hug. I can touch you like this, right?”

“You said we wouldn’t. Not…” My words died when he slid his palm between my thighs.

“Friends touch.” Gray pressed his lips against my neck. “I can’t stop picturing you getting fat with my baby. I heard chicks get wetter when they’re pregnant. Is it true?”

His teeth scraped against my earlobe, the pain sending delicious tingles down my spine.

“What is your pussy like now, Snitch? Does it still get wet for me?”

“Friends don’t talk like this,” I said jaggedly.