Page 198 of Making Choices

“Bullshit.”

I tap-dance my fingers along her throat. She swallows, then flicks her gaze away from mine as colour starts to fill her cheeks. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Lilianna Mayberry to submit the way she does to my hand collaring her neck. The idea of this strong woman willingly surrendering to the promise of my violence is as improbable as it is confounding, yet I find myself constantly surprised by her ability to shock me with new faucets of her personality.

“Tell me, duchess. What are you afraid of?”

When she doesn’t answer, I give in to the urge to collar her neck. The moment my fingers curl around her slender throat and I restrict her breathing, she closes her eyes and her body wilts. Her voice is weak as she wheezes, “The ritual.”

“Because it’s public?” I ask. “You must know that I can hide your body from view. I can make it quick.”

“It’s not… that.”

Letting go of her wrists, I trace the cupid’s bow of her painted lips. “What is it, then?”

“I haven’t—” Cherub swallows deep and I mimic the movement of her throat with my palm. “—I haven’t had sex since the… baby.”

My disbelief makes me crass. “You fucked Venom on the balcony of the penthouse.”

“No.” My duchess opens her eyes and pins me to the spot with her truth. “He went down on me. That’s it. I haven’t had sex since I lost our baby, and I don’t want my first time to be part of some stupid ritual designed for crusty old men to get their jollies off at our expense.”

“That’s easily remedied.”

Cherub blinks fast. “How?”

“I’m gonna make you mine now.”

“Carter.” She tries to capture my wrists with her hands when I move away from her. I evade her clutches to stomp deeper into the small chapel she’s using as her hideaway. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering her, I set about creating a makeshift bed. The blankets thrown over the artwork stored in the corner are tossed on the floor. I grab three cushions and set them at one end. A bunch of flowers brighten the small kitchenette off to the side, so I grab them and scatter the petals on the floor around the blanket pallet I’ve made. Candles are plentiful so I place an array of different shapes and sizes around the immediate vicinity.

As I finish lighting them, my duchess comes into view.

In the strapless ballgown she’s wearing, Cherub is the most majestic woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. The diamond tiara in her hair. The sweep of her full skirt. The blush that flares in her chest and settles in her cheeks. It all adds a fairy-tale-like quality to the situation I’m determined to manufacture for her.

“Fuckin’ loved your weddin’ dress at the compound, but this one—” I take hold of her hand and twirl her in a circle. “—Fuck me. You’re a livin’, breathin’ duchess. A wet dream come to life—crude as that may be to say out loud.” After pulling her into my arms, I make her sway on the spot like we’re dancing. When her forehead comes to rest against the top of my sternum and Cherub melts into me, I get a feeling in my gut that makes my knees weaken. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamt about you?”

“No.”

“Too many to count. You’ve been drivin’ me crazy for years.”

“I didn’t know.” The aching earnestness in her voice is music to my ears.

“And now that you do?”

“I don’t want to ruin things between you and Zeke.”

Grasping Cherub by her upper arms, I hold her out from me. “There’s nothin’ left to ruin.”

Sorrow floods her gaze and she sniffs delicately. “I was afraid of that.”

“I’m gonna be good to you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll love you right.”

She smiles sadly. “I know.”

My heart is thumping in my chest as I drop down to my knees and wrap my arms around my duchess’ waist. She’s a tall woman, taller than some men, but my height still makes it necessary for me to stoop low to press my lips to the centre of her belly. The boning of her dress hampers me, however, I know she understands what I’m trying to tell her.

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