Page 60 of Seizing Control: Part One

I lick my dry lips.

Another assault on my ears.

Even the dab, dab, dab of the sterile wipe feels like an indictment.

I’m tending to the bruised and bloodied face of the man I love. Fixing damage wrought by the second owner of my soul. If the universe wanted to send me a clue as to my next move, she couldn’t have picked a more neon sign. The marriage I’ve agreed to is a disaster in the making. An error that will only compound as time passes. Zeke’s pride will fester with resentment. Slash’s humanity will wither under my ongoing denial to choose him only. I’ll allow the shattered heart that barely beats in my chest to splutter to a stop before I let them solidify their mounting rift.

As soon as that thought enters my head, Slash drives home the accuracy of my decision.

His hands grip my hips, and he pulls me into him. One hand cupping his jaw, the other arm trapped between our upper bodies, my mouth is captured by Slash’s before I can protest. He kisses me softly at first, then deepens the connection by sliding his tongue along the seam of my lips.

I shake my head as I refuse him entry.

“Let me in, duchess.”

“I can’t.”

“You can... you’re simply too damn stubborn to give in.” As I screw my eyes shut to block out the raw desire painted over his perfectly symmetrical features, the dogged man slides his right hand along my side, pausing momentarily to cup my breast, before his fingers circle my throat. The restriction to my breathing is an immediate aphrodisiac. I wilt into him, and my reaction is noted by Slash. “These pouty lips part so easily for me as soon as I give you an excuse to act like this isn’t your choice.”

“Don’t... Carter.” I whimper with need as he captures my chin with his free hand to hold me in place while he runs his tongue along my bottom lip. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, duchess?”

Inhaling his scent, I sag harder against him when his fingertips bite into my neck. “Don’t make me choose... don’t make me the reason...”

“Too late.” When Slash teases the tip of my tongue with his, my thighs tense around his waist. A wave of desire rolls through me at the feel of his hard body flush against mine. “You’re already the reason.” Another stolen kiss. This one is deeper, allowing me to taste his desperation. “You’ve always been the reason.”

“You’ll hate me.”

“Never.” Anger emanating from him, Slash pinches the column of my throat and constricts my breath until stars burst in my vision. “Open your eyes. Face the fuckin’ truth.” With my eyes still shut, defiance in my posture, I thrash in his hold when my lungs start to burn. “Like I said, too damn stubborn.”

Gasping for air once he eases his grip, I pant through my confession, “He’ll hate... me.”

“And we finally have the truth.” I taste blood when Slash roughly presses his lips to mine. He shoves me away from him, and the heavy chair he’s sitting in lands with a thud when he abruptly stands. At the sudden loss of his warm strength, my eyelids lift in a rush as I tumble backward. I steady myself the best I can, my palms stinging from the impact with the hard wooden table, then reluctantly lift my gaze to meet Slash’s. Disappointment etched in his expression, the big man shakes his head at me. “You’re scared to love me.”

“No,” I protest. When I reach for him, he steps away from me. “I’m scared to lose you.”

“Bullshit,” Slash retorts. His gaze flashes with hot hatred as he tells me, “You’re scared to lose Venom... because you know he doesn’t love you unconditionally—” Fingers curled into a fist, he hammers his chest, right over his heart. “—like I do.”

His uncustomary rage sucks the oxygen out of the chapel.

“Time out.” I make a T-shape with my hands as I plead for a truce. Slash’s barb was well-placed. A direct hit. I’m metaphorically bleeding out, an apt allusion considering the blood smearing his chin. The same bitter tang coats my tongue—reminding me exactly what’s at stake right now. “You’re taking things too far. I’m not with Zeke... but that doesn’t mean I’m with you.”

“You’re gonna be my wife!” Slash bellows. I recoil from his fury while he viciously drives homes his truth. “My. Fuckin’. Wife. That means you’re with me... for better and for worse. ‘Til death do us part.”

The truth in his tirade cloaks me in misery as it echoes around my head.

Over and over, I fight to reconcile the plan to save my first love from prison without marrying Hugh St. James with the repercussions that Slash and Zeke are deliberately ignoring.

I feel like I’m being set up to fail...

It’s a premonition that stalks me as Slash silently takes hold of my hand, yanks me off the Shamrocks’ table, and leads me out of the chapel. It follows me home, and to bed, to then cast a foreboding shadow as I lapse into an uneasy slumber during which I’m attacked by visions of a future without either of the men I love in my life.

A future where I’m alone.

Abandoned.

Unloved.

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