Page 118 of Intense
“You can hate parts of me and love other parts. It’s passion, love. And that’s what makes you the perfect wife for me.”
He drags his thumb across my bottom lip, and I swear, my knees weaken.
“If you really hated me like you claim, you’d have quit your job years ago. You’d have never woken up with a ring on your finger. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be standing this close to me right now.”
He leans in again, close enough for his words to settle on my skin like heat.
“And you certainly wouldn’t be imagining me spanking and cutting you until you pass out as punishment for your little stunt today. But you are, aren’t you? You’re soaking fucking wet for me.”
When he steps back, it’s like the oxygen rushes out of my lungs.
He adjusts his tie, the picture of control again, though I know better.
“All three of your points have been deemed invalid. Therefore, your divorce request has been denied. Again.”
I blink at him, stunned, as he settles back into his chair like he hasn’t just set my entire world on fire.
“Now, are you staying here to let me show you what it really means to be mine? Or are you running back to your office to finger yourself while you think of me? Choice is yours… wife.”
That word. Wife. The way he says it with such possessiveness sends a shock through my chest.
“Who said anything about my fingers? Maybe I’ll go back to the club and find another dick to use as my personal fuck toy.”
I bite down a grin when his temple twitches, his jaw clenches, and that mask of composure starts to slip.
He sucks in a sharp breath. I know that look. He’s about to break.
“Come here, Stephanie,” he growls, each syllable bitten off like he’s trying not to explode.
“I’m not your property. You don’t get to order me around. Sign the damn papers,” I snap back.
He nods once, licking his lips like he’s tasting blood.
“Ever since those rings went on our fingers, I’ve remained faithful to you. Because our marriage is real to me. I don’t let anyone near me like this.”
His words land like fists. I wasn’t ready for that. For the brutal sincerity of it.
My heart hammers. I clench my fists, trying to anchor myself. He’s catching me off guard at every turn, and it’s messing with my head.
“But if that’s how you want to play this, then checkmate to you,Dr. Miller. There are plenty of willing women I know who’d be more than happy to be in your shoes once I clock off. Have a good day.”
Bile rises in my throat. The image of him with someone else feels like a punch to the gut.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I glance at the papers in the trash.
And weirdly… they look like they belong there.
A soft knock startles me, and I step back.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Poppy,” he says flatly, not even glancing my way.
I nod numbly and move toward the door.
“Sign the papers, Dr. Quinn, and all of this will go away.”
He turns then, and for the first time… I see it.
Not anger.
