The ring.
My hand.
I stare at my finger as he pounds into me, headboard hitting the wall, every nerve in my body suddenly more sensitive at the sight of it. Pleasure courses through me like a storm, electric.
Thrilling.
Confusing.
The sight of that thin gold band sends a rush through me I didn’t expect.
It’s ridiculous.
It’s crazy.
But it’s also turning me on more than anything ever has.
I feel like I could fly apart, come undone, split open from the pressure inside me—and then I do. My body contracts with release, lights flashing behind my eyes as I cry out, clutching him, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist as the world blurs.
And he follows.
“Fuck, Annabelle . . . oh fuck . . .”
With a guttural sound, he buries himself so deep it has me gasping, hips jerking as his hot come spills inside me, his breath hot and uneven. His hips jerk again.
Again.
After several seconds, I turn my head to the right, breath still ragged in my throat. My heart pounds—not just from what we’ve done, but from the spark of panic starting to creep in.
Callused, tan, his hand rests beside my shoulder on the mattress, fingers splayed.
And there it is.
A thin gold band.
On his left ring finger.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, eyes widening as I stare at it like it might disappear if I blink. “Callum ...”
He groans, chin buried against my shoulder, blissed out and oblivious. “Mmm?”
“Did we ...”I don’t know how to say it.Don’t think I can say the wordmarried.
His eyes pop open, and he peers down at me through blue slits. “Did we what?”
My mouth opens. Closes.
Instead of answering, I slide my hand up between our bodies, still pressed so tightly together. My palm grazes his stomach, then his chest, and finally—slowly—I raise it in front of his face.
See?See?
The thin gold band on my finger glints in the bright morning light.
Maverick blinks. Then blinks again, eyes fully open, tracking between my hand and his.
“Pretty,” he says, taking my hand to inspect the band. “I like it.”
“No, you dipshit.Youhave onetoo.” I don’t mean to call him names—honestly I don’t—but he’s not getting it!He is Not Getting the Point!
