Phoenix’s lips are on mine instantly, like he’s been holding this in since the second they pulled him away from me. His tongue pushes past my lips, and I let him take whatever he wants. His grip is bruising—one hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back at the angle he wants, the other wrapped around my waist so tight I can barely breathe.
It’s animal.
A kiss born of rage and fear, and every second we thought we’d never get back.
He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the kitchen island, setting me down on the cold surface as he continues to kiss me.
“You left me.” I gasp against his lips. “You promised me you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t have a choice, baby,” he says, already tugging my sweats down, along with my underwear. “You know that.”
My bare ass rests against the marble, and my whole body shudders.
“Leave my shirt on,” he mutters, pushing the material up. He exposes my body and latches onto my nipple, sucking it into his mouth before switching to the other and giving it the same torturous attention.
His gaze lifts to mine as he licks the valley between my breasts. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like that, baby.”
I grab him by the jaw and drag his mouth back to mine, shaking my head and kissing him to say that wasn’t it. That none of it mattered.
“I don’t care about that. I know you, Phoenix.”
He’s already at his belt, his fingers rough and impatient, while I rip his shirt open like I can’t get to him fast enough. Buttons fly across the kitchen, pinging off counters and scattering across the floor, but I don’t care. I need his skin beneath my fingers.
“I was so scared. I thought you were hurt. I wanted to kill every single one of them—especially the prick with the gun.”
“My crazy girl,” he growls against my throat. “God, I love you. You’re everything. You hear me? Every fucking thing.”
His fingers move between my thighs, stroking my clit while he lavishes me in kisses—soft ones along my jaw, desperate ones crushing against my mouth, gentle ones on my forehead.
My need for him takes over everything as he starts whispering in my ear—telling me how much he loves me, how beautiful I am, how he’ll always protect me and how my cunt is his and will always be his, because it wouldn’t be Phoenix if he didn’t claimevery single inch of me with words, touch, and his absolute possession.
“I’m gonna marry you one day, baby.”
“Then do it… Marry me.” His fingers stop moving instantly, and he lifts his face to mine, storm-gray eyes going wide with shock as they lock onto mine—the same eyes that have owned me since I was fourteen. “I want to be Shannen Cassidy, so do it. Marry me. Be my husband.”
“When?”
“Today. Tomorrow. I don’t fucking care.” My hand lifts to his jaw, my thumb brushing the slight stubble there. “I just know I want you.”
He kisses me hard, claiming my mouth the same way he’s about to claim everything else.
“I need to fuck you now, baby. Because the next time I have you like this… it’ll be with my ring on your finger, with you looking at me while I call you my wife.”
Chapter 28
Phoenix
Shannen Cassidy.
My wife.
Thirty-six hours after she demanded I marry her, I did, because when the love of your life tells you to put a ring on it, you do it.
We found the nearest courthouse, signed whatever papers they threw at us, and I walked out with her legally bound to me for life.
Now we’re in the most expensive, obnoxiously fancy hotel suite I could find on short notice, because if she wasn’t getting the big wedding, the white dress, the flowers, or any of that sentimental bullshit she claims to hate, she was at least getting the fucking honeymoon suite.
And holy shit did we break it in.
