Page 81 of Widow's Walk

“I fucked up, yes. I’ll fuck up again. And so will you. You’ll continue to be irascible and difficult. Because I’m not asking you to be someone else. But I in no way lied to you. I did not betray you. I kept it from you because it was not an option. And I didn’t want it to hurt you.” Her nostrils flare. “Clair.” I drop my forehead to hers, and she closes her eyes. “Your family treated you less than dirt. Made you feel worthless and disposable. I didn’t—” My words are deep, and my voice is raw. She slowly opens her eyes. “I fucking hated that for you. I couldn’t allow you ever to feel that way again. No one gets to make you feel that way ever fucking again.” My teeth clench with rising anger.

“Do you understand me?” I grip her jaw. “No one gets to treat you like anything less than royalty. Than sacred. Than untouchable.” My grip tightens. “Anyone who dares to will be dead on sight. Do you understand?”

She blinks, not to bury the tears, but to break through them. Not to avoid the ache, but to walk straight into it. For once, she lets herself feel the sting. Lets the tears rise, hover, then pass. Not denied. Not hidden. Just released.

Then she nods. Slow, steady, fierce. Like she’s choosing herself for the first time. She blinks away the last of her tears. Not in retreat. But in resurrection.

Our lips collide. If I could kiss away all her scarring memories and take them as my own, I would. Kiss away every scar, from the inside out, I would. But I can’t change the past. All I can do is give her a better future. One that can help her move on from the darkness that was once her life.

Her legs circle my waist on reflex, and I spin us to pin her against the side of the pool. She begins grinding, her pussy warm against my torso. My cock is aching for her, but right now, this is all about her. I would deny myself anything to put her first.

Always.

I break the kiss to lift her out of the water, propping her on the concrete edge. She stares down at me with desire weighing her eyelids down. She curls her nails into my shoulders before releasing them.

Keeping our eyes locked, I part her knees and drape her legs over my shoulders. I watch her eyes spark, brimming with hunger, as I brush my lips over the silkiest part of her body.

Dropping my jaw, I flatten my tongue and swipe upwards, savoring her. “The tastiest fucking cunt,joon-kharâsh.”

Her breath hitches, and the fire in her eyes burns. I know if I don’t put her out of her misery, and soon, she’ll snap. Part of me would love to push her to unleash the beast in her, but again, this isn’t for me and my desires.

Inhaling her pussy into my mouth, her hand dives into my hair, her nails scraping my scalp. She snaps her head back and moans without shame into the darkened sky as I eat her pussy until she’s quivering.

Chapter thirty-seven

Sinclair

Tonight is mine.

One night. No limits. No rules. That was the deal. And Blackwell, so far, has not broken a deal.

The room smells like candlewax and sandalwood, soft lighting flickering around, casting shadows along the walls like smoke. Our bed is neatly made with the black silk sheets, but I removed the comforter for this special occasion. Everything feels better on silk.

I timed it just right, knowing Blackwell will be calling it quits about now, and coming to find me for dinner. So, I sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, in a simple black silk teddy, swinging a pair of gold cuffs lazily around one finger.

The deal started as a question of power and surrender through the art of sex. But tonight, it’s more than that. It’s about trust. I want to see how far he’ll let me go. How much he’ll give me without question. Trusting me.

The door opens, and he steps inside the room, already peeling his jacket off. He notices me right away and falters. A smirk twitches on my lips. I always love seeing him visibly affected by just the sight of me.

The door clicks shut behind him, and I stand up to meet him halfway. His hands immediately slide around my waist, and his crooked smile is fucking adorable.

“I hope you’re not too hungry,” I say.

“Oh, I’m starved,” he murmurs, making me grin.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, you and I.” He arches a brow, his expression still amused and his eyes heated. “The deal. For one night, I have total control.”

His lips twitch as he swivels his gaze all over me. “And tonight is the night,” he mutters.

“Nervous?” I tease.

His arms tighten around me, leaving no space between us. His only response is a dry look.

“Because Blackwell,” I whisper, brushing a finger along his jaw, “if I’m going to be yours. Then you sure as hell better learn how to be mine.”

His look turns dangerous, and his head slowly lowers, his lips almost touching mine. “Do your worst, darling,” he whispers back, then kisses me.

His body is spread out like an ‘x’ in the center of the bed. His wrists are cuffed to the bed frame under the headboard, and his ankles are bound by ropes tied to the frame at the foot of the bed.

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