Page 179 of Claiming Pretty

He tore my panties off me and stuffed them into my mouth.

He thrust his cock into me, splitting me open, my scream cut off by his hand clamping down over my mouth, my tongue coated in my musky wetness from my panties.

He fucked me as I thrashed underneath him, hips bucking for more as I tried to fight him off, leaves and sticks scraping my back and bare ass.

Because our childhood pastime had become our favorite fucked-up game.

Dots sparkled in front of my eyes as I fought for air, as my orgasm crashed over me. He let out a feral growl as he slammed into me, filling me with his cum.

And with the promise of our future babies. I didn’t have my implant in anymore, after all.

I sagged into the dirt, chest heaving as his hand slipped from my mouth, pulling my panties out, and he rested his forehead on mine.

“I love you more, hummingbird,” he whispered from behind his mask.

“I love you, mhaor,” I whispered back.

AVA

A few months later…

Iwoke to the sense of being watched.

My eyes adjusted to the soft light of the moon filtering through the gauzy curtains.

Beside me, Ty lay sprawled, his arm slung possessively across my waist even in sleep. His face was peaceful, and my heart thrilled at the sight of him, the word “husband” reverberating in my chest like a melody.

My gaze drifted to the balcony doors where one of them was ajar, and the breeze carried the unmistakable scent of the sea, mingled with the faintest trace of something else.

SomeoneI knew all too well.

I slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Ty, and padded barefoot across the room. Pushing through the fluttering curtains, I stepped out into the cool night air.

There, by the latticed ivy, he stood. My shadow.

I didn’t know whether to run to him, curse him for coming, or beg for forgiveness I didn’t deserve.

He stepped forward, and the moonlight revealed his face. His expression, so full of conflict and pain, twisted something deep inside me. His torment mirrored my own.

My breath hitched, and the chill in the air seeped into my skin.

Ciaran must have seen it as a shiver because he whispered, “It’s cold. I shouldn’t have brought you out here.”

“Scáth,” I whispered, reaching out to him, my hand hovering in the space between us.

He stepped back, retreating into the shadows with a sad smile that tore through me like a knife.

“I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he said, his voice low, almost lost in the crashing waves below.

The truth clawed at my throat. I was happy—terribly, painfully happy.

And the weight of that truth, that I had chosen happiness at the cost of his, was almost too much to bear.

But I couldn’t lie to him.

“I am,” I admitted, my voice breaking.

Tears blurred my vision, and I didn’t see him move. Suddenly, he was there, his lips brushing my cheek, so soft it was almost a memory.

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