Page 89 of Intense
He chuckles darkly.
“How do you know? Were you holding my hand on the way up?”
I scoff. But he’s probably not far from the truth. Is that why I crave him?
Even as I want him gone.
Even as I want my name back.
Even as I want to forget what his hands feel like on my skin.
He pulls back, eyes dragging over my body, slow and possessive. “Clock’s ticking, Mrs. Quinn. Want that annulment? Let me see what’s mine.”
I hate him.
But more than that?
I hate the part of me that’s already reaching for the back of my bra.
Chapter 31
FINN
She doesn’t move at first.
Just stands there glaring at me like I’ve grown a second head. Like the mere suggestion of her baring herself to me is the most offensive thing I could’ve said.
But I see the flicker.
The way her pupils flare.
The way her breath catches.
She wants this.
Even if she doesn’t want to want it.
Even if it kills her pride.
Good.
We’re both dying slowly anyway.
I cross my arms, lean back against the wall, and nod to the space in front of me.
“Go on then. Show me how much you hate being my wife.” There’s an evil mocking to my tone.
Her fingers twitch at her sides. Rage burns behind her eyes, but that’s not all.
She’s stalling, trying to convince herself this doesn’t affect her.
She fails.
When her bra undoes, she holds it against her breasts; I feel the desire like a pulse in my cock. Her gaze flicks to mine, like she’s daring me to blink.
I don’t.
I want to see every fucking second of this.
