I considered the word.
Ours.
Not his. Not the bond’s. Not fate’s.
Ours.
He would take away this misery. That was the practical reality of the situation and I was adult enough to acknowledge it.
But that wasn’t the whole of it.
I was tempted to claim him. To make it so that the thought of another female never crossed his mind again. Not because the heat demanded it—because I did. Because somewhere between the dinner and the rose garden and the pale blue shirt pressed against my cheek, this had stopped being biology and started being something else entirely.
Something I didn’t have a name for yet.
Something Bad Girl had apparently known for considerably longer than I had.
I reached out of my cocoon and patted the bed.
“I think it’s time.”
I blinked.
He moved in a blur.
I had not previously known that a man could undress that quickly.
Chapter 43
Conrí
I never expected the bright pink bra.
It caught me entirely off guard—lace, the straps sitting against her shoulders like they’d been painted there. I registered all of it in approximately half a second before my brain moved on to the next problem.
The skirt had to go. I needed to see more of her.
I stood at the edge of the bed.
Her eyes were on my crotch.
I couldn’t blame her. My underwear was doing absolutely nothing to conceal the tortured state I was in. I’d been in that state since the lift and had been managing it with steadily diminishing success for the past hour. I peeled them off carefully and held them out to her.
She took them from me.
Looked around.
Then folded them with complete seriousness—corners tucked, edges aligned—and placed them neatly amongst the rest of my clothing.
I watched this happen.
I said nothing.
Hurry up, Kael snapped.Can’t you see she’s in pain?
I could see. I knew the moment another cramp arrived because she curled into her layered nest and pressed her palm flat against her belly, her breath going shallow and controlled the way it did when she was managing something without asking for help.
I was stubborn. Every cell in my body needed her—only her, had only ever been her—but I needed the words first. Her words. Her choice, stated clearly, because once she gave them to me I could give her everything. There would not be a single doubt left in her mind.
