Page 20 of Addicted To His Favorite
“It is,” he murmured, “but it’s not the same as what I want.”
He kissed her cheek again, fighting the urge to touch and kiss her every few seconds.
His face hovered close, so near that the heat from his skin made hers tingle. Just standing there, seeing her—let alone remembering how she looked naked—stirred a fierce ache deep inside him.
He fought to tame the fire burning beneath the surface, to act like a sane man in front of her, but the sharp tension in his jaw betrayed the battle raging within.
Taming himself in front of her was the hardest thing he’d done all day, forcing his raging desires to hide behind a calm mask.
Lowering his voice to a near whisper, he said, “Our wedding… it’s going to be the grandest the country’s ever seen.”
His eyes darkened, flickering not just with joy but with a raw, hungry desire. “A wedding only happens once. I will never marry anyone else. And I’m not about to let you.”
Her breath caught, the warmth of his words spreading through her chest. His happiness was contagious, but beneath it pulsed an undercurrent of something darker.
She could see his eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and desire—barely concealing thoughts of seeing her in a wedding dress, but more than that, ripping it off her.
She couldn’t tell anymore if it was all her imagination… or if he was really that expressive, showing exactly what he wanted to do to her just through his gaze.
Overwhelmed, she whispered, “What if you regret it later? What if you divorce me?”
Sebastian’s eyes darkened instantly, smoldering as if they could burn right through her.
His hand, which had been resting lightly on her waist, slid up to cradle the nape of her neck with a fierce, possessive grip—fingers pressing firmly, pulling her closer, holding her like he owned every inch of her.
He bit her lip in a sharp, possessive punishment before pulling back just enough to lock eyes with hers, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“We haven’t even married yet, and you’re already thinking about divorce?”
A shiver ran down her spine. The way he said it made her feel like she’d done something terribly wrong, wiping away her nervousness and replacing it with caution.
Without warning, he pressed her back until her spine met the car’s cold metal, leaving no space between them. His hand slid from her throat to the back of her head, fingers tangling possessively in her hair as he yanked her face toward his. His voice dropped to a growl.
“Don’t think too much about it, baby. You’ll only marry once in your life. And you’ll have only one husband—me!”
At that moment, Leon, who had been waiting inside the car, stepped out.
“Mr. Graves, are you ready to—” he began.
But he froze the second he saw Sebastian and Emily standing so close, their bodies pressed together intimately.
Sebastian’s glare shifted instantly toward the car door, a silent warning that froze Leon mid-step.
Leon swallowed hard, then quickly scrambled back inside, muttering, “Take your time, Mr. and Mrs. Graves.” The car door slammed shut behind him with a firm thud.
Sebastian exhaled sharply and released Emily. Opening the car door, he said, “Get inside.”
She obeyed, sliding into the seat. Sebastian settled beside her, the engine’s hum filling the quiet.
His hand found hers, fingers weaving together like they belonged.
Then, before she could even catch her breath, his other hand slipped around her waist, pulling her up into his lap.
“What is it with you and dragging me into your lap all the time?” she asked, trying to wriggle free as he held her firmly.
He didn’t answer. He lowered his head, planting feather-light kisses along her neck and behind her ear. Then he pulled back just enough to look deeply into her eyes, his hand curling around the back of her head, tilting it so their gazes locked.
“We’re married now,” he muttered. “What are you going to call me from now on? Honey? My love? Baby? What do you prefer?”
