“Why?” I demanded. “It’s the truth. Don’t you like the truth?”
He went silent. I wanted to know the thoughts that made the muscle in his jaw pop. His eyes dropped to my shirt, and I realized too late why, too late to pull away.
He lifted his locket off my neck. “You’re leaving me, little nun.”
“Don’t call me that.” My voice held no power.
He worked the muscle in his jaw harder. “Did you forget because your bruises faded?”
He dropped the locket and grasped the skin beneath it between his thumb and forefinger. I should have pushed him off. I shouldn’t arch my neck to the side, arch into the dark possessive look in his eyes as he twists the skin painfully, bruising, eyes boring into mine. Dredging up memories of his lips, his teeth.
“You’re mine, Story. My little nun.”
His voice was so rough, it slid inside me, abrading my blood, until I could taste him in my throat.
We’d kept our distance for so long, and even still, this was barely anything. But I was burning up as his warmth suffused through my body.
“Say it,” he gritted.
He twisted harder and I saw stars. Beautiful, blinding stars…the kind that blind judgment.
“Yours,” I breathed.
He stopped twisting, ran his thumb across the mark. His eyes found my lips and for a second I thought he might kiss me. Then before I could remember all the reasons why I should say no, Grayson was up and against the other wall.
I pressed my hand to my collarbone. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Let me see it.”
The air had shifted.
That thing we’d been ignoring, trying to act like died the day of the wedding, was alive and throbbing. Grayson—my Grayson—was back and staring at me like he wanted to eat me. Devour me. The only thing stopping him the wall at his back.
“I tried to fuck my wife today,” he said. “When you told me you were leaving…that really messed me up, Snitch. So I tried to get you out of my head.”
My eyes darted to his cock. He was so fucking hard. The tapered outline of him was so vivid through his suit pants, and it dredged up every memory of us. Hot…full…deep.
I swallowed, throat dry.
“Did it work?” I asked softly, dragging my eyes up.
There was an answer in his eyes I desperately wanted to know, but he wouldn’t let me in.
“You should go back to her.”
“I should.”
My eyes dropped back to his cock, and Grayson’s hand fell over the fabric. Stroking. I watched, mesmerized as he grew longer, harder. I ached. I missed him.
“What are you thinking, little nun?” His voice was like gravel.
This time it was my turn to keep my thoughts in my head. I’m thinking I want you. I want more, the way only you can give me. His nostrils flared as though he could read the thoughts in my head.
“Sit up,” Grayson commanded.
My heart pounded, breath tight as I did what he said.
“Spread your legs. Keep your clothes on.”