“Because you did the same to me.”
He lets out a huff of annoyance, but he doesn’t correct me. He just continues to stand too close, too irritated, and too handsome.
“Is this how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives?” he inquires seriously. “You fighting me all the time?”
“Five years,” I remind him. “You’re off the hook after that.”
“That’s the other way around.”
“That was the agreement.”
“There are always amendments, princess.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t argue with him anymore about the length of what he believes we’ll stay together.
I’m trying not to even think about it.
“What can I give you to change your mind?” he presses.
“Nothing.”
“Sienna, I’m serious.”
“As am I.”
“You’re not,” he clips back. “You’re being stubborn.”
I meet his vivid blue eyes when I retort, “Then find yourself a new woman to be your wife, Benedikt. I will not change my mind.”
He exhales through his nose, his calm mask cracking by the second. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
He moves closer, pressing my body firmly against my dresser, and every nerve ending in my body lights up in anticipation. “Let’s not bullshit each other, princess. I don’t want a new woman. I want you. I chose you. And I’m going to fucking keep you.”
An involuntary shudder rips through me, but I keep myself semi-composed. “Well, you can’t always get what you want.”
“Funny.” He leans down just enough that his breath hits my neck. “I usually do.”
“Manipulation won’t work.”
“This is persuasion,” he counters. “There’s a difference. You’re fighting me because you want to. Because it keeps this alive in this feeling that this wasn’t normal. I’m not normal. And your little dream of whatever man you dreamed up in your head is dead. He won’t get to you, princess. I’ll kill him first.”
I have no doubt he’s serious if I ever dreamt up such a man.
His mouth crashes into mine, hard and demanding. The kind that makes my knees give out, and my brain short-circuit.
His hands slide up my side, fingers grazing bare skin, and my body betrays me, arching into him when I should be pushing him away.
When his tongue coaxes my lips wider, I fall victim.
Again.
My heart’s pounding so fast that I feel dizzy, clutching onto his shoulder for purchase and a crutch.
He groans into the kiss like he’s been starving for it. For me. His hand moves from my sides to the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my damp hair as he deepens the kiss, taking his time.
He presses closer until I can feel the reminder in every inch of him how much he can undo me with one kiss. His thumb brushes the underside of my jaw, guiding the kiss like he’s in control of even that. My fingers curl into the front of his shirt, tugging until the fabric bunches in my fists.
