26. CHAPTER 23 #4
The real laugh escaped me, short and entirely involuntary. She looked at me as if she’d just scored a major point.
“So the neutrals in your closet,” I said slowly, “the ones I had brought in—”
“Are useful,” she replied. “For when I want to blend in. Or if I ever feel the need to dress like my old self.”
“You really don’t make anything easy.”
She gave me a mischievous little smile. I could tell she enjoyed being the one thing I couldn’t control.
The tension eased after that.
We talked about many other things. About books, her job, and the fact that she’d once almost been expelled from a very expensive school for organizing an underground market to resell banned romance novels to her classmates.
“I’m not surprised.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Ever been expelled?”
“Almost,” I said. “I hacked my boarding school’s network to fix the grade curve. The headmaster didn’t appreciate my sense of justice.”
She stared. “You hacked the system?”
“Technically, Severin did. I just asked.”
She snorted. “It’s always all or nothing with you, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. Moderation has never impressed me.
By the time we finished dessert, my chest felt…less heavy. The worst of the day had eased out of my muscles.
She stood when I did, and I walked her in silence down the hallway to her door. Mine was directly opposite—by design. Close enough that I could reach her in seconds if I needed to, far enough that I wasn’t forcing anything she hadn’t chosen yet. This weekend was meant to give us time, not trap her.
For a moment we stood there, facing each other, the hush of the house stripping the world down to just us.
“Thank you,” she said in an unusual tender voice. “For today. I had fun.”
The honesty in her voice caught me off guard.
“I’m glad,” I said, my voice coming out lower than I’d wanted.
She stood still for a second, considering something. Before I knew it, she leaned forward, and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my mouth.
It was barely more than a brush of lips. Brief. Shy, in a way she never let herself be on a normal day.
Another test. She wanted to see what I’ll do with it.
Fuck, did it light me up like a fuse.
She started to pull back, her heels clicking on the polished floor, her hand reaching toward the door handle, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. I caught her by the waist and hauled her back into my space before she could retreat.
“Léa,” I growled roughly, her name scraping out of my throat like I’d been holding back for too long.
Her brown eyes locked on mine, wide and defiant, that same fire we always threw at each other now tangled with heat.
I yanked her closer and crashed my mouth down on hers. I was done waiting. My lips slammed into her soft ones, my tongue thrusting in to claim her. She went still for a heartbeat, then melted against me with a breathless, startled gasp that I swallowed whole.
Her fingers fisted in my shirt, and her nails dug into my chest as she dragged me closer, like she needed something solid to hold on to or she’d come apart.
That grip alone snapped whatever thread of restraint I had left.
I slid one hand to the nape of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair as I tilted her head and took more.
My other arm wrapped hard around her waist, pinning her hips to mine so she could feel the thick aching line of my cock pressed against her belly.
She moaned hungrily, the sound shooting straight down my spine.
Fuck.
This woman had no idea what she was playing with.
I swallowed her sounds, kissing her deeper, my tongue sweeping in with no patience left. She tasted like wine and temper and an unexpected sweetness beneath it. Stubborn, intoxicating, and entirely her.
Her tongue met mine with just as much pressure, still fighting me even here, and I sucked on it, dragging another broken little sound from her throat.
Her body arched into mine. Her breasts crushed against my chest, and even through our clothes I could feel the hard peaks of her nipples.
Every drag of her mouth, every shift of her hips, fed the heat roaring through me.
Three months of restraint. Three months of watching, wanting, and not touching. All of it burned down to this.
I rocked my hips once—just once—with enough friction to show her exactly what she was doing to me.
Her thighs clenched around nothing. I felt her breath hitch in my mouth.
“Fuck,” I hissed, the word torn out of me.
I broke the kiss only because my lungs demanded it, pulling back an inch to look at her. Her lips were swollen, slick from our kiss. Her eyes were dark, her pupils blown wide, her chest rising and falling like she’d just run down a flight of stairs.
I’d imagined her like this more times than I’d admit, but it was nothing compared to having her in my hands, wrecked and glaring and wanting.
I took her in, breathing hard.
“Will you stop fighting me now?” I rasped, my voice wrecked, hanging by a thread.
“No,” she whispered on my lips, not moving away. “I won’t.”
The answer should have irritated me.
Instead, a savage satisfaction unfurled low in my gut.
A rough reckless laugh escaped me, as I cupped the back of her head again and pulled her right back into me.
“If you insist,” I said hoarsely, “we’ll do it this way.”
I kissed her again, deeper, slower this time. Not frantic like before. This was more intentional.
I turned her and walked her back until her shoulder blades hit the wall beside her bedroom door, letting the solid surface pin her there while my hands roamed. One hand traveled down the curve of her thigh, my fingers gripping hard as I lifted her so that her center settled over my cock.
She rolled her hips into me.
I groaned, the sound torn from somewhere deep and unfiltered.
My grip hardened, hunger flaring fierce and raw between us.
I could do this for hours…taste her, feel her push back even as her body begged for more.
The realisation was a problem. Because with her, it would never just be sex. It would always be more.
I tore myself away from her, breathing hard, her taste still lingering on my tongue. A low growl rumbled out of my chest as I fought the urge to pin her harder, hike her dress up, and fuck her right there against the wall until there wasn’t room in her for anything else but me.
She stood trapped between me and the wall, breathless. Her beautiful brown eyes blazing with the same defiance that had been ruining my self-control from the day we met. It made me harder.
Double fuck.
Her fight twisted something primal in me. Made my blood roar with the need to make her yield, to feel her come apart in my hands because she chose to, not because a contract demanded it.
I lowered my mouth to her ear, my breath hot on her skin.
“Keep pushing back like that, wife,” I whispered, my voice laced with a dark promise, “and next time I won’t stop at your mouth.”
I caught her earlobe between my teeth, nipping hard, drawing a sharp inhale from her. Her nails raked down my chest in retaliation, the sting shot straight to my groin. Her body betrayed her, arching into me even as she hissed under her breath.
I let her go, then stepped back before I lost my last sense of judgment.
“Good night, Léonie,” I said, forcing my voice back under control.
The air between us was thick with sex, heat, and raw tension pulling tight with every single breath. I turned away before I gave in to the urge to reach for her again.
This wasn’t over.
In fact, it was the first honest move in a game I fully intended to win.