I wet my dry lips with my tongue. My skin was hypersensitive again, tingling as his breath grazed me. My traitor body arched on its own as though some part of me yearned to press up against him. I pressed my hands against his chest, holding him back. “I don’t belong to you. You said such cruel things to me, Severn…”
“I wanted to push you away,” he admitted in a growl. “You don’t understand. I lost someone when I started to care for them.” His hands on either side of my head curled into fists. He shoved away from the wall, pacing in the kitchen.
“Marco Conejero was a good man,” he continued. “Such a good man that I foolishly became friends with him. I let him raise his children knowing about the hidden realm. I thought it was possible for fae and humans to be friends. But I was wrong. If Marco had simply remained an employee, I would have made different choices. When he told me he wanted to confront Black Ember, I would have judged the situation properly and forbidden it. But my friendship clouded my judgment, and now Henry and May are orphans.”
My anger abated as I listened to him spill his worries as he paced around the cottage kitchen. This was a messed-up therapy session, but I figured it was as good as it would get with Severn.
“It was an accident,” I said softly.
“He’s dead because of me.”
He was growing agitated, and I pressed my hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at me. “Severn. It’s not your fault. Okay? I mean it. And I’m not Marco. I’m not confronting a rival fae prince anytime soon. I, like, make Pop-Tarts for two elementary school kids. It’s totally different, okay?”
He closed his eyes. God, he was beautiful. I had the sudden urge to nip at that scar on his chin, and it shocked me how much the idea thrilled my body.
“They’ve lost so much,” he said quietly, gazing in the direction of their bedrooms. “They can’t lose you, too. You can’t quit, Willow.”
“I’m not going to quit…as long as you stop trying to scare me away.”
He tilted his head so that our foreheads pressed together. My traitor body again leaned slightly into him. I felt the magnetic urge to grip the backs of his arms and drag myself up to his lips. I was glad the children were asleep but very aware that they might wake up at any moment for a glass of water or to use the bathroom, and I’d be mortified for them to find me and Severn so close.
“You’re so good with them,” he muttered. “I don’t know how to raise children.”
“Neither do I, but we can do it together.” When he met my eyes, I dared to give a smirk. “Mr. Wilde.”
He smirked back. “Mrs. Wilde.”
We both laughed, but then the energy shifted. His hands fell down to my hips, gripping them, his fingers digging in.
“This place,” Severn said quietly. “It feels like an escape. Like the rules don’t apply here.” I nodded almost imperceptibly. He continued. “Like things could happen here that couldn’t happen back home.”
I nodded again, moving closer.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “What if we played pretend a little longer, Willow?”
That was all it took to drive me over the edge. I could no longer hold back. I dug my fingers into the back of his shoulders, pulling him down to me.Pretend, I told myself.It’s just pretend.
It made me feel less conflicted when I pressed my lips to his. He leaned forward until our bodies were flush, pressing me against the wall with his weight. I gasped. Every part of him was hard muscle. I slid my hands down the backs of his arms, digging into the thickest curve of his bicep.
He kissed me in a way that made my body sing. He tasted like wine, and I wanted more. I slipped my tongue between his teeth, and he growled and pushed me up against the wall, pressing his knee between my legs.
My legs parted obediently, straddling his massive thigh. Pressure was building in my groin, and it felt like heaven to rub against his leg. I’d worn a short dress that rode up over my thighs. He reached down and grabbed my bottom, squeezing until I bucked against him.
“I want you,” he growled into my neck.
Before I could say another word, he scooped me up in his arms and lifted me around his waist. He kissed me again, holding me effortlessly, his hands digging into my ass. We stumbled toward his bedroom blindly, unable to take our hands off one another.
Once there, he closed and locked the door, then threw me down on the bed. I fell back against the pillows, breathing hard. My dress had ridden up around my hips, exposing my bare legs and a glimpse of my panties. He stared down at me with those dark eyes full of lust.
“The things I want to do to you, Willow,” he breathed, shaking his head as he began to ease off his tie.
“What do you want to do to me?” I asked breathlessly.
This seemed to excite him more, and he stalked slowly around the bed, stretching and squeezing his hands. “You’ve disobeyed me so many times. If you only knew how badly I wanted to punish you for your insubordination. To bend you to my will.”
He suddenly pounced on me, making me squeak. He pressed his body against mine, moving against me like some wild animal. “I want to throw you over my knee and smack your ass,” he purred into my ear. “I want to make you beg for forgiveness. Beg to be close to me, to vow to do whatever I tell you.” He nipped at my shoulder hard, and I let out a yip. My vision was blurred with desire. My body bucked under him, anxious for satisfaction.
I felt myself nodding. I wanted him to dominate me. Not out there, in the world. Not in our roles as employer and employee. But here, now, in the bedroom, all I wanted was for him to take complete control. If I had to beg him, then I would beg him.
