Page 152 of Endgame
I’m swallowed up in Everett’s T-shirt, enveloped by the scent of him. Of his soap that I used to wash myself.
The desire to belong not just to anyone, but to him, is wild.
My heart beats for him. My body feels incomplete when he’s gone.
A part of me is missing.
Back and forth. Back and forth. I’ve worn a path into the floor by now.
Impatience takes over, and I stalk over to the door. Doesn’t matter that it’s locked. I’ll scream to be let out. I’ll drive every one of his staff out of their minds until I’m freed to look for Everett.
My lips part.
I fill my lungs with air, ready to use them, and then the lock clicks.
Dumbfounded and painfully hopeful, I stare at the door handle.
The wise thing to do would be to step back. Wait for the person behind the door to push it in.
Fuck being wise. I launch at the handle and wrench the door open myself.
I had no idea how much I missed him until this moment. Everett’s hand wraps around my throat, where my collar usually is.
“Wife.”
I’m floating. I’mfeeling. Everything. I feel everything at once. Every nerve ending comes to life beneath his touch.
I figured he’d be back, but now that he is, I can admit to myself that a small part of me feared he wouldn’t. I’ve grown used to disappointment. To being unlovable.
Tears brim in my eyes, and I blink them away.
Everett is here.
With him in the same room, I can finally breathe. I can let myself want.
I want him. His hands. His mouth. His cock.
I want my husband. “You’re back.”
“I am.” He steps forward, forcing me to retreat. His gaze is full of need. His lips have thinned into a fine line. “I told you I would.”
The door closes behind him. His attention is on me the entire time, never leaving me as he prowls deeper into the room. I have no choice but to follow.
I don’t want another choice.
The desire to submit to him, to be his, I’m consumed by it. Can hardly breathe. Can hardly concentrate.
The room fades around us.
There’s only his presence, his heat.
A storm of emotions batter my ribs. Love, hatred, lust.
Betrayal, though, it isn’t there.
“Yes, you did.” He’s keeping secrets from me, but he never lied. Not to me. “Husband.”
“You, on the other hand. You were too close to the door when I unlocked it.” His lips stretch into a deviant smirk when thebacks of my legs meet the bed. “Where exactly did you think you were going?”
