Page 164 of Until I Own You

Kisses again. Lets his teeth brush my skin as he sucks.

He stays until I’m sure he’s made a mark. Then he moves his mouth below the collar. “Mine.”

Another kiss, another scrape of teeth.

After the third one at the center of my collarbone, it’s clear that Seth is going to continue this pattern until he has marked every part of my body with his teeth.

And I will relish every single mark. Every single time he claims me with the word “mine.”

Because it’s the truth.

Forever and ever, I am his.

30

EPILOGUE

SETH

A year later…

I shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks for the umpteenth time today.

Yep. The ring box is still there, right where I put it this morning before leaving the house.

I never thought a proposal would be so fucking nerve wracking. Now I feel bad for making fun of Nate and Mason back when they proposed to Laney.

“Psst, Seth.”

I turn to find Solomon leaning toward me from his second-row seat. He taps my empty first-row seat. “Why don’t you sit, Seth? Show’s going to start soon.”

I glance at the empty chair and then back at the catwalk that crosses through the middle of the room. It is empty for now, but still taunting.

Despite most of the front row seats being reserved for celebrities and people in the fashion industry, I’ve been able to snag a front row seat toward the middle of the catwalk between Deborah Angelise and some woman who introduced herself to me like I should know who she was.

“Sitting just makes me more nervous.”

Solomon exchanges a look with Mom beside him.

She pats his knee and then gives me a smile. “Seth, honey, it’s going to be great.”

I tug on the hem of my suit jacket. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this here. Maybe it’s a mistake.”

“She’ll love it,” Solomon says.

My mom nods.

It seemed perfect in my head when I started planning this a few months ago.

Bridget’s first big runway show as a part of New York Fashion Week. A smaller show, but still a slot on the roster means big things for the future.

I already knew I wanted to propose soon, so why not fucking make it big? Why not make her show the best it could be?

Now I’m questioning it, though. Maybe she’ll think I’m stealing her spotlight. Maybe I’m overshadowing her with a proposal.

“I’m going to go take a lap around the room,” I say.

Solomon opens his mouth to say something, but my mom grabs him and speaks instead. “Okay, honey. We’re here if you need anything.”

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