Page 126 of The Ache That Stayed

Fire flashed in her eyes. I caged her in, stepping closer. Close enough that if she took a breath, she’d feel me.

“We can do that,” I murmured.

There was a flush climbing her throat now. She was angry. Embarrassed. Guilty. My mouth found the exposed skin beneath the turtleneck, pressing slow kisses there. Just below her ear. Her head tipped back before she could stop it, lips parting softly. Beneath the knit, her nipples peaked instantly.

And despite the fight still burning in her eyes, a small sound escaped her. Because beneath all of that—she was still mine.

And I intended to remind her.

“But you wouldn’t want the entire site to hear you screaming my name now. Would you?” I added, licking the lobe of her ear.

My hand slid up her skirt, slowly, parting her thighs.

“Haven’t you had your fill?” she shot back, brows furrowed. “Gotten me out of your system?”

My blood stirred at her comment. My other hand came up—settling around her throat. Firm. Possessive.

“There’s no getting you out of my system,” I said, voice low, lethal.

Her pulse jumped under my thumb.

“The only way that happens—” I pressed lightly. “—is when I’m six feet under.”

Her chest rose sharply.

“Even then,” I continued, leaning closer, “my ghost would come looking for you. The universe would tear itself apart before it kept me away from you again.”

She shook her head slightly. “This is madness—”

“Madness is you, in my blood,” I cut in. “In my system.”

My thumb stroked slowly over the frantic beat of her pulse beneath my fingers.

“And even if you drained every drop out of me—” my voice dropped to a whisper, “I still wouldn’t be free of you.”

Her hips moved against me without thinking. Unconscious. Needy.

“You keep fighting me, Volpi,” I murmured against her skin.

My lips brushed the shell of her ear.

“And every time…”

I pressed another kiss beneath her jaw.

“...your body comes home. To me.”

I moved the fabric of her underwear and pushed two fingers in her. A broken breath escaped her, and her nails dug into my arm, the warm walls of her pussy pressing against my fingers.

God.

She still didn’t understand. Didn’t understand that she’d been undoing me for years.

“You’re mine.”

The words left me quietly, carrying no anger or possessiveness—just absolute certainty.

“You were mine when you were with him. When you were building a family. When I was halfway across the world trying to forget you.”