Chapter 18 Mine
EIGHTEEN
MINE
SEBASTIEN
One thing I just discovered about myself?
There is nothing that revs my engine more than seeing my wife lose control. Really, she only had herself to blame for setting me off like this…
Okay. So Hilary touched my arm. I barely noticed, except for a twinge of annoyance that she wasn’t Annaliese. It meant nothing to me, and I thought for old times’ sake I should let her down gently, showing her my wedding ring, letting her know that I was taken.
Her flirty-ness meant nothing to me.
It obviously meant everything to my wife.
I saw the way Annaliese’s delicate jaw went hard, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked in a furious breath. A jealous breath.
Then Hilary fucked up. She giggled, putting on an act, dragging her fingers up to my shoulder as though my wedding band was the same as any other decoration. Dallas’s spade tattoo. Adrian’s earrings. Connor’s scar.
No, sweetheart. It was a sign that I’m taken, and I’m not like other Owed. The moment I said ‘I do’ to Annaliese, I followed in Adrian’s footsteps, declaring the Used off-limits.
Too bad Hilary didn’t get the memo.
Before I could peel her possessive hand off my shoulder, Annaliese moved. I saw the moment her usual ice shattered, revealing a heated fury that made her radiant a split second before she reared back her hand and swung.
Annaliese didn’t warn the other woman. She didn’t clear her throat or meekly point out that I’m her husband. Going against all of the protocols in the Order, my wife slapped Hilary so hard, the impact of flesh against flesh cut through the noise in the Court.
I knew better than to think that Hilary wouldn’t retaliate.
She did, and I only wish I was able to interfere faster than I did.
That was on me. Watching my wife get into a slap fight with one of the Used…
that was a scene out of my wildest fantasies.
If Hilary hadn’t brought Julie into it, I would’ve been able to enjoy it more.
Of course, all she did was trigger Annaliese’s jealous side again, and now I’m currently carrying her away from the center of the Court.
What else could I do? Everyone was staring at the two women, but all I had eyes for was her. Annaliese Reynolds, elegant and stunningly angry, finally letting a true emotion break through that perfect little mask of hers she constantly wears.
I see her. I see the woman I fell for all those months ago, and the woman I will do abso-fucking-lutely anything to keep.
Because she’s jealous. So jealous that she steams with it, and it’s not because of my position.
Not because of my wealth. It’s because, for the first time in so long, someone wants me for me.
If this was just a marriage of convenience, or even a regular Offering-Owed arranged marriage, she would turn her head away, leaving me to deal with the Used.
Only she didn’t.
Annaliese Crawford Annaliese fucking Reynolds came bearing down on Hilary like a bat out of hell. She told the Used to get her hands off of me, and when she refused, my wife beat the shit out of her.
My wife. The same prim, proper woman who sat on my couch, her binder a shield, her lips pursed as she laid out clause after clause of our marriage of convenience. Instead of playing that part, I saw the jealousy she couldn’t quite hide, and the anger that’s a perfect match to the dark side in me.
No wonder I’ve been obsessed with her since the moment we met.
Deep down, I must’ve recognized that she’s the other half of my soul.
And ain’t that some shit? Before Annaliese, I never believed in the concept of soul mates.
Adrian did; he was convinced from kindergarten that Loni was his.
Even when I was lusting after Julie, thinking about giving up my bachelorhood for her, something always held me back.
And then Annaliese asked me to marry her, and I nearly fucking tripped over myself to say ‘I do’.
The way she fights against me as I drag her away from Hilary, as though she’s ready to launch herself at the Used again…
I would do it again in a heartbeat. Good thing I don’t have to.
This amazing, elegant, fierce hellcat is mine, and if I don’t show her that I’m hers, I’m about to fucking explode in my jeans.
Because it’s true. She Claimed me in front of Hilary. Hell, in front of the whole Order. Anyone in the Court who witnessed the fight or will hear about it as the gossips do their job and spread it all over Harmony Heights will know that I’m married, and that my wife is a force to be reckoned with.
Is it any wonder that I’m this turned-on?
Carrying her across the floor, I don’t stop until I’ve reached my destination: the bathroom designated for high-ranking members of the Order so that they don’t have to ‘mingle’ with the lower-ranked members.
Less than five minutes ago, I took a leak in one of the open bathrooms. I never cared about the Order hierarchy bullshit.
A toilet is a toilet, right? But considering the first time I fucked Annaliese, it was in a seedy, neon-lit bar bathroom, and the second time I’m going to fuck my wife is in another bathroom, the least I can do is bring her to the classiest john in the Court.
This bathroom is single use only. I feel bad for any Owed who might be taking a shit because, no matter what, I’m getting us in there. Luckily, the door’s unlocked, and I yank it open, pulling Annaliese into the room with me.
There’s a large mirror over the single vanity. Behind us, there’s one toilet. It smells like dark rum and burning wood in here, gold touches on the toilet handle, the knobs near the sink, the sconces on the wall glittering beneath the low light. Even more importantly, there’s a lock on the door.
Releasing Annaliese, letting her pull herself to her full height still a good six inches shorter than me, even in her heels I walk over to the door, engaging the lock.
That catches her attention. “Should you do that?”
Why not? “This is the King’s Court. The Owed allow the Used to stay here, but this is ours. And if I want to show my wife that she’s the only woman for me, I’ll do it, and the other Owed can take it the fuck up with Dal if they have a problem with it.”
Her eyes widen. Underneath the light brighter than the golden light out on the floor I see a thin smear of blood along her cheekbone right next to two shallower scratches. Hilary must’ve got her good with her nails.
Fuck. That shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.
Neither should the furious look in her brown eyes as she glares up at me. I step toward her, but proving that she’s still in fight-or-flight and my love is all fight she presses her palm against my chest, doing her best to keep me back.
“Sebastien,” she snaps, “I’m so not fucking you right now.”
My laugh is low, one part disbelieving, the other part way too amused that Annaliese can see right through me that easily.
Oh, yeah. We’re fucking, but that’s not the only reason I hauled her off to the bathroom.
“Really? You think that’s why I dragged you in here?”
Her jaw clenches, an obvious ‘yes’. “Well, I interrupted whatever you were doing with that Used woman. So since she’s not putting out, I guess I’m the next best choice.” She gestures around her. “And another bathroom. Like you think I’ve forgotten last time. Like you think I could ever forget.”
You and me, both, baby.
I step closer to her, forcing her hand back against her own body. “You’re wrong, Annaliese. I didn’t want Hilary. Sure, I’ve been with her… but that was before we got married. They were all before we got married. I need you to understand that. You? You’re the only woman I want.”
She flinches at my confession. And I know that I was right. She was jealous, and while I won’t deny that she has reason to be lord knows that I imagine killing her nameless ex a thousand times in my fantasies she has nothing to be jealous about now.
I catch her chin gently. “Look at me, love.”
When she doesn’t lift her eyes, I tilt her face up until her gaze meets mine.
“You think I even saw her out there?” I murmur. “Fuck, no. I only saw you, love. My wife.” I wait for a heartbeat to really send home the message. “My jealous, furious wife who nearly scalped another woman because she touched me without permission.”
Her throat works, already flushing. “I—”
She flushes and I focus on the blood on her cheek. I ghost two of my fingers over it. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” she mutters. And then, with enough venom that she has my cock twitching, she adds, “I should get a rabies shot after that.”
Maybe. Or maybe I show her just how desperate a man her husband is.
“Come here. Let me clean you.”
Annaliese inches closer to the vanity. I move with her before cupping the back of her neck, drawing her up on her tiptoes. Then, without giving her the chance to protect what I’m about to do, I lean in and lick the streak of blood from her cheek.
She shoves me away, clapping her hand on her cheek. “Oh my God, Sebastien… what the hell? That’s so unsanitary.”
“What’s wrong? I’m your husband, love. Part of that is wanting to get as much of you inside of me as I can.”
And the reverse, too. Hint, hint, wifey.
Pity she doesn’t take the hint.
Ah, well. No one said that I didn’t ever go for what I wanted.
In fact, half of the trouble I got into growing up was because I had no impulse control.
I got better once I hit my mid-twenties, but the echoes of that Bas Reynolds rears his mischievous head as I lick my lips, then laugh under my breath.
“Besides,” I grate out, ghosting my lips along the edge of her jaw, “it’s cute that you think that that’s the only place my tongue is going tonight…”
She gasps the second she understands what I mean. But you know what? She doesn’t try to push me away again, and that’s all the permission I need to do this.