Page 96 of Seizing Control: Part One

“It’s not…” Trailing off, I search for the courage to explain my true worry. I fail to find the right explanation, so I hedge instead. “That.”

Slash frees my wrists.

He traces my top lip with his fingertip. “What is it, then?”

“I haven’t—” When I swallow the wedge of grief that’s lodged in my throat, the big man mimics the movement with his fingers. “—I haven’t had sex since the… baby.”

“You fucked Venom on the balcony of the penthouse.”

“No.” I open my eyes so he can see my honesty as I give him the details his imploring gaze seeks. “He went down on me. That’s it. I haven’t had sex since I lost my 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.”

“How?”

“I’m gonna make you mine now.”

“Carter.” He stands abruptly. I grab his wrists to tug him back to his knees. Slash shakes free of my hands and stalks off. As he disappears into the sitting room, I shout after him, “What are you doing?”

The only answer I receive is a flurry of commotion.

It sounds like he’s destroying the place.

I push back to my feet.

The room spins.

Taking a few minutes to steady myself, I venture after Slash as soon as my balance is solid.

The scene I discover is as romantic as it is confounding.

In the time it took for me to get my emotions under control, Slash has transformed the sitting room. He’s made a pallet on the floor with blankets and cushions, scattered flower petals, set up dozens of candles. As I approach, he finishes lighting the tea candles at the foot of the makeshift bed.

I freeze under the intensity of his perusal.

Toker’s assessment of my wedding dress is confirmed.

Carter Hudson is looking at me like I’m the woman of his dreams.

His duchess.

“Fuckin’ loved your weddin’ dress at the compound, but this one—” Standing, he takes hold of my hand and, lifting his arm high, twirls me 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.”

He clutches me to him.

Holds me tight.

Sways like we’re dancing to music only we can hear.

The internal battle between my mind and soul that I’ve been waging since I realised I was as in love with Slash as I am with Zeke declares a winner.

My heart has vanquished my brain.

I press my forehead to his sternum.

Slash accepts my silent surrender.

He murmurs, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamt about you?”

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