Page 36 of Until I Own You

“Honestly, of course,” he adds with another smirk.

I narrow my eyes. “You have to answer me first.”

He nods. “Of course.” Then, with his chin lowered, his blue eyes flip up to mine, darker in the shadowy room. “Do we have an agreement?”

Huffing, I drop my hand from the door. “Yes. Fine.”

“Then, as we agreed, you go ahead and ask.”

“Seth, did you lie to Dory and tell him I just got out of a relationship?”

Seth holds up his hands. A reveal. “Yes. I did.”

My eyes pinch with tears. “Why?”

“You’ve already asked your question, Bridget.”

I cover my eyes in frustration. “That’s not fair, I deserve to know why, I deserve–”

“It’s my turn.”

He’s closer.

I remove my hands from my eyes and tuck them against my sides, under my arms. I want to disappear. “Fine. What.”

Seth doesn’t speak right away. He tilts his head to the side, watching me as if timing is just as important as the question.

“Seth, what?!” I cry out.

Seth’s eyes drop from mine. His tongue slides across his lower lip.

I hold my breath.

“How often do you say my name when you touch yourself, Bridget?”

Time freezes. I stare at him. Unsure if the question he asked was a real one or if maybe it was actually a different language and I just misunderstood. “What?”

His eyes lift and when they meet mine, I know. The same way I knew that he was the one who ruined my chances with Dory for the night.

He heard me when I was touching myself earlier.

I knew it was suspicious the way he was standing outside the bride’s quarters, but I pushed it away because…because…

Without considering the repercussions, I turn on my heel and rush for the door again, grabbing the knob, twisting, and–

The door only opens an inch before Seth comes up behind me and slams it shut, his palm pressed against the wood. “Answer the question, Bridget.”

I try to pull harder, but his strength is too much for me. “Let me go.”

“You promised. A question for a question.”

I pull again. “This isn’t fair, Seth. This–”

“Answer me.”

He grabs my shoulder and pulls me around to face him, pressing me up against the door, his hands on both my biceps. It doesn’t hurt. And if it does, I don’t feel the pain.

I am flooded with pleasure at his touch. At his control.

---