"Don't." The word comes out broken, desperate. "Please don't go."
She pauses, her back to me, but she doesn't turn around.
I've never begged for anything in my life. I've never let anyone see me as weak, never let anyone see me break. But I'm breaking now, and I don't care who sees it.
"I know I don't deserve you.” My voice is shaking. "I know I've been a bastard and a coward, and I've hurt you in ways I can't easily fix. I know I've given you every reason to walk out that door and never look back."
She still doesn't turn around, but she's not moving either. She’s gone very still, her knuckles white from where she’s gripping her luggage.
"I was scared," I continue, and the words are coming faster now, more desperate. "I was scared of what I was feeling for you, scared of letting you in, scared of what it would mean if I admitted that I needed you. So I pushed you away. I said terrible things, things I didn't mean, because I thought if I could make you hate me, it would be easier."
"Easier for who?" Her voice is quiet, but I can hear the pain in it.
"For me. For both of us. I thought if I kept you at a distance, if I made sure you knew this was just an arrangement, then when it didn’t become anything more it wouldn't hurt so much." I take a step toward her, then another. "But it was already too late. You'd already gotten under my skin, into my heart, and I was too much of a coward to admit it."
She turns around slowly, and the look on her face breaks me. She's crying, her eyes red and swollen.It’s my fault,I think, a fist squeezing my heart. This time, I'm the one who hurt her.
“I should never have felt like you were a punishment,” I say, my voice cracking. “You were a gift I didn't deserve, and I was too stupid and too scared to see it. When I said I didn't want you, I was lying. I wanted you so badly it terrified me.”
"Sean—" She swallows hard, her lips pressing together until they’re nothing but a thin, pale line.
"I'm not good at this. I'm not good at feelings or emotions that aren’t anger and hate. I've spent my whole life being theWolf, being a killer, a man who doesn't feel anything. But you make me feel everything, and it scares the shit out of me."
I'm right in front of her now, close enough to touch, but I don't. Not until I know she wants me to.
"I know I said terrible things to you. I know I made you feel unwanted, unloved, like you were a burden. I know I hurt you, and I know sorry isn't enough to fix that. But I need you to know that every time I pushed you away, it was because I was scared of how much I wanted you close. Every time I hurt you it was because I was afraid of getting hurt. I want to make that right, Maeve. I want to show you that I?—”
She shakes her head. "You can't just say these things and expect me to forget?—"
"I'm not asking you to forget." I drop to my knees in front of her, and her eyes go wide.
I've never knelt for anyone in my life, but if it means I can keep her, I’d crawl. I’d grovel. I’d go to the ends of the fucking earth.
"I'm asking you to give me a chance to make it right. I'm asking you to let me prove that I can be the husband you deserve. I’m asking you to give us a chance, now that Brennan is gone, now that I’ve chosen to be here. I’m asking you to choose to be here too, long enough for us to try."
She makes a small noise. "Sean, get up?—"
I shake my head, my voice hoarse. "I know I don't deserve another chance. I know I've used up all my chances and then some. But I'm begging you, Maeve. I'm on my knees begging you to stay, to give me one more chance to show you that I can be better. That I will be better."
I watch her. Every muscle in her body is tense, like she might bolt at any moment. Her eyes are wary, but there's something else there too. Something that looks like a fragile, tenuous hope.
"I mean it," I say quietly. "I'm not letting you go. Not this time."
Maeve takes a deep breath. "How do I know you won't change your mind? How do I know this isn't just another way you'll hurt me?"
Her voice breaks on the last word. It cuts through me like a knife. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. But I promise I'll try. Every single day."
Maeve looks at me, and I can feel the moment she wavers. The moment she sees my face, the pleading on it, the need, thelove, and believes me.
She sinks down to her knees in front of me, one hand reaching out to touch my face. “A chance,” she whispers. “Don’t push me away again, Sean. I’m not the scared girl you married. I won’t let you hurt me just because you’re afraid to feel something. You have to be brave, just like I was.”
I reach up, covering her hand with mine. “For you,” I murmur, “I think I can be brave.”
She leans forward then, and kisses me. When her mouth touches mine, it feels like heaven. Like coming home. She tastes sweet as honey, and my hands come up to cup her face, turning her so that I spill her down onto the floor beneath me.
There’s nothing slow about what I do next. It’s tender and desperate all at once, as I thank every god I don’t believe in that she’s wearing a dress. I push the skirt up her thighs, spreading them apart as she arches beneath me. I’m already hard just from her mouth on mine, and I free my cock with one swift motion, wrapping one hand around myself as I guide myself to her entrance.
She’s slick and hot, welcoming me in as I push the tip inside of her, and I groan, savoring every inch as I sink into her until my hips are pressed to hers. For a long moment, I just holdmyself there, feeling the heat of her, the sensation of being enveloped in the woman I love.
