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He already loved me with everything that he had, but now he loved me much deeper than before. He loved me every night like it was our last night on this earth. He loved me like he could lose me any moment.
We lay together once it was over, and despite the heat of our bodies, he held me close. His arm was draped over my stomach as he lay beside me, his face close to my cheek on the same pillow. His large body was a wall beside me, blocking the window from my view.
My arm rested on his as I turned to look at him, to see this handsome man protecting me with his massive body. Every night, I was wrapped in his protection, wrapped in his scent, his possessiveness.
He opened his eyes and met my look.
I stared, my fingers drifting over the endless muscles of his arms. “Je t’aime.”
He stared for a few seconds before he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Je t’aime, chérie.”
I loved my new home in this very spot—right next to him. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”
A new look entered his eyes, a gaze I hadn’t seen before. Windows opened to his soul, and the softness underneath was truly visible for the first time. “You never have to worry about that.”
“Why?”
“Because if I die, there’s no one to protect you. So, I can never die.”
A week later, Fender held a party at the house.
He stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the sleeves of his tuxedo, his eyes down on what he was doing, his jaw cleanly shaved, his shoulders broad in the jacket. Tall. Muscular. He looked good in anything, but he looked particularly good in that.
I took a seat in the armchair in my gown and waited for him to finish.
When he was done, he turned to me and stopped.
I looked up and met his gaze.
His eyes combed my appearance, taking in the sight of me with my hair and makeup done, wearing the gold gown that matched the sconces of his palace. I was the trophy—so he wanted me to be gold like a trophy. He walked over to me then extended his hand.
I took it and let him pull me to my feet.
His hands went to my hips, and he squeezed me as he looked into my face, his eyes drilling holes into my appearance. Sometimes he stared at me so hard that he looked furious. But now he backed me up to the wall, undid his trousers, and lifted my dress.
My back planted against the wall, and I felt my thong leave my body. “There are already people downstairs—”
He hiked up my leg and shoved himself inside me.
The back of my head tapped against the wall, and I released a moan at his abrupt entrance. My hands clung to his shoulders, and I lifted my leg farther to rest it higher on his arm, feeling him pound into me right away.
Hard. Fast. Territorial. He was like a dog marking his territory. His eyes burned into mine as he fucked me hard, fucked me in a way he hadn’t in weeks.
My arms wrapped around his neck, and I moaned as he took me up against the wall, plowing into me, forcing me into a climax even though I hadn’t been ready for it just a minute ago. I did my best to steady my tears so they wouldn’t ruin my makeup.
He finished with a moan, giving me a load like he hadn’t just done so that morning. Then he pulled out and got re-dressed as if nothing had happened, his dick still hard and forced into his trousers.
I lowered my leg and breathed hard against the wall, needing more than a second to recover.
“Chérie.” He moved to the door and beckoned for me to join him.
“I just need to clean up.”
“No.”
I stilled at his answer. “I look like I just—”
“Exactly.”
When I saw her across the room, I almost couldn’t believe it.
Dressed in a beautiful gown with her hair done, her makeup heavy, and having a strong posture that defied her labored imprisonment, she practically glided across the floor, her arm in Magnus’s.
I turned to Fender. “My sister is here.”
His mood immediately soured at the mention of her.
I squeezed his arm in gratitude. “Thank you.”
He continued to ignore me, drinking the champagne that he said tasted like cat piss.
Magnus approached his brother, ignoring me the way Fender ignored Raven. They greeted each other in silence, with notable hostility, as if something had happened between them when Fender was at the camp.
Raven stood there, her eyes down, trying to disappear.
All I could do was stare because I couldn’t believe she was there, right in front of me, looking more beautiful than she ever had. “Raven, you look so beautiful.” Everything was perfect, from her earrings to her eye shadow. A whole different woman.
