“Your heart’s racing, Duchess,” Damon murmurs against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver through my body. “How would your boyfriend feel to know your body craves his brother?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to give away how true his words are.
Shame spreads through my chest because I fucking hate that his touch doesn’t repulse me. I hate that I want him despite his disdain toward me. And I hate that Ronan is none the wiser.
He chuckles, the sound both amused and cruel, only making my chest tighten more. “Really? Because the flush spreading across your pretty throat would say otherwise. And the way you’re leaning against me like a needy whore? That’s just the cherry on top.”
“I am not,” I snap, immediately trying to put space between us, but his hold on my throat makes it impossible.
“Whatever you say, Chloe.” The sound of my name on his lips is a sharp mix of pain and pleasure. It’s been so long since he’s acknowledged me as anything more than an inconvenience, and there’s a part of me that’s desperate for his kindness, even if it’s a trap.
Because that’s exactly what this is.
Damon didn’t wake up this morning and decide to be nice to me. He didn’t see me on his brother’s arm as we congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials and decide I’m no longer his enemy. He’s just using this as another excuse to be cruel, and even as my body begs to enjoy the rare show of kindness from someone that means so much to me, my mind knows this is just another one of his tricks.
“I need to go back inside.” I move to sidestep away from him, but he tugs me against him, wrapping his other hand around me and holding me tightly in place.
My breath whooshes from my chest when his hardness presses into my lower back, and I’m not talking about his toned chest.
No, the evidence of how I affect him is more than obvious, and his heat makes it hard to breathe.
“There you go again, trying to run from me.”
My eyes fall closed, and for a single second I let myself believe this isn’t another one of his games. That he could want me the same way I want him.
It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed my mind to drift to a place where I could have them both, where my heart could feel complete in a way I feared it never would with only Ronan.
And I fucking hate myself for it.
He is enough. He’s kind and respectful. He’s everything I always imagined I would want in a boyfriend and, in the future, husband. Ronan is the love of my life, but there will always be a part of me that loves Damon too.
“Damon,” I warn, my chest tightening at the sound of his name on my lips.
His warm lips drag over the place where my neck and shoulder meet, sending a shiver through my body at the rush of sensations that overwhelm me.
Fuck.
“What is it, Duchess?” he croons.
The hand resting across my belly moves higher, brushing over my peaked nipples, giving away how much every touch affects me.
“You have to stop,” I say weakly, because no matter how wrong it is, the last thing I want is for him to walk away. Maybe it’s the knowledge that this is the only time this can ever happen, or perhaps it’s because I’ve wanted it for so long it feels impossible to deny myself this rare show of kindness.
“Is that what you really want, Chloe?”
“Yes.”
“Little Liar,” he chuckles. “Your body betrays you. The way your perky ass presses against my cock. Your pretty, peaked nipples so hard they could cut glass. And the blush that’s spreading all the way down your chest? It’s all telling a very different story to your pouty lips.”
I suck in a stuttered breath, trying to regain some kind of composure but quickly realizing it’s impossible. My body and mind are not on the same page about what’s happening here.
“This is your engagement party,” I remind him, hoping one of us can stop this before it can go any further. “Mikayla is going to come looking for you.”
“She might,” he agrees. “What do you think she’d do if she found you grinding on me like a bitch in heat?”
“I am not,” I snap.
Without warning, he presses me forward until my hips dig painfully into the railing of the gazebo, his hard body holding me in place.
