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"You almost didn't," he says in a low voice.
"But I did." I cup his face. "Don't you see? There was too much at stake for me. No way was I going to lose. No way would I have let anything happen to me. I knew you were waiting for me. I knew I was going to see Avery grow up. I knew I was going to walk out of there alive."
He peers into my face, then draws in a breath. "I believe you." He wraps his arms around me. "But I still can't forgive Cass for getting you a gun."
"Would you have given me a gun if I’d asked you?"
He hesitates.
"That's what I thought."
"If she hadn't given you a gun, you wouldn't have gone."
"If she hadn't given me a gun, I would have gone unprepared, and then..." I swallow. "Then I wouldn’t have been able to protect myself." I lean in close enough for us to share breath. "And when he pointed his gun at you, I knew he’d kill you, and then I didn’t think at all."
A shiver grips my shoulders.
"You know what else?" I glance away. "I don’t feel sorry, at all. I’m relieved I don’t have to face him again. I don’t have to take Avery over and leave her for the rest of the week with that… that… Monster. I don’t need to look at him and remember how he used to beat me up, how he made me feel helpless, how he used her to get me to do whatever he wanted, how he would taunt me about my skills as a mother, as a woman. How he made me feel weak, and stupid, and undesirable, and unwanted, and—"
"I love you." He notches his knuckles under my chin so I have no choice but to look up at him. "You are the strongest, most gorgeous, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t mean only in the physical fashion, although—" his lips quirk, "—I mean that, too, of course."
I look between those golden eyes of his—and my heart flutters. I'll never get used to how he looks at me, like I’m his entire world.
"It’s your heart, your soul, your spirit that attracts me to you. Your quick mind, the depth of your love for Avery, how you’d do anything for her, how you killed the man who would have taken her away from you and scarred her for life. You did what had to be done to protect your daughter, and I not only respect you for that, but I fell in love with you all over again for what you did."
I draw in a breath, not sure what to say. His words… They wash over me, through me, and wash away the stain of what I did, that I thought I would carry forever. He absolves me of the guilt I thought I was destined to endure. He lightens the load that had already begun to settle on me, the dread that had begun to seep into my soul. The anger at myself for what I did, knowing I’d do it all over again. The helplessness that had begun to bind me in its shackles fades away, leaving in its place… Freedom. A lightness. A sense of rightness, of being here in his bed. With him. And yet, the tears flow down my cheeks… Not tears of sorrow, but an acknowledgement that my life as I know it is just starting. With him. The man of my dreams. My husband. The one. The only.
"Seb," I whisper, "please fuck me. Please dominate me. Now, more than ever, I need you to take my choice away from me."
He searches my features. "Are you sure?" he asks.
"More than sure. I need you to show me that I’m alive, that you’re alive, that everything I hold dear to me is here in this house with me. That I’m not alone anymore, Seb. Can you do that for me?"
His gaze narrows, and something flickers deep within those leonine eyes. Then, those beautiful lips of his twist. He lowers his lips and brushes mine once, twice. I open my mouth, and he sweeps his tongue inside and deepens the kiss. He pours himself, his taste, his strength, his heart… his love… I feel all of it in that kiss as he slides his tongue over mine.
Then he pulls away and moves off the bed. He walks over to the door at the end of the room which I assume leads to his closet. The light comes on inside, then switches off as he steps back into the room. Between his fingers, he holds swatches of fabric. A tie? He brought out a tie? No, more than one tie… He has a couple of ties… Three, maybe? Why does he need three ties? He walks over to me and rakes his gaze over my body. My nipples instantly bead, my belly flutters, liquid heat erupts low in my stomach, and I can’t stop myself from squeezing my thighs together.
He jerks his chin at me. "Arms over your head. Grip the headboard, Princess."
A shiver of heat blooms in my chest. I do as he orders. I hook my fingers through the slats in the headboard. The mattress dips as he climbs on. With slow movements that hint his shoulder is slowing him down, he knots the first tie around my wrists and secures them to the headboard. He climbs off of the bed again and walks to the end of it. He circles his fingers around one ankle, and goosebumps dot my skin. He pulls my leg to the side, uses the second tie to secure my leg to the bed, then does the same with the other.
The T-shirt I’m wearing—his T-shirt—rides up my waist. Cool air flows over my bare pussy and goosebumps dot my skin.
When he finishes, he stands back and surveys my spread-out position. A flush steals over his cheeks and that golden gaze of his seems to catch fire.
He shoves his boxers down his legs and kicks them aside. His cock juts up, thick and fat and proud. Pre-cum glistens at the slit of the head. He wraps his fingers around his shaft and pumps once, twice. A pulse flares to life between my legs. I try to tug my legs together, but they’re held apart.
"Seb, please," I gasp.
"What do you want, Princess?"
"You. I want you inside of me. I need to feel your cock thickening in me, please," I whine.
His breath catches. His chest, with that beautiful tattoo scrawled across it, rises and falls. His shoulders seem to grow even bigger as he, once more, mounts the bed and settles in between them. I try to wind my arm around his neck, but end up tugging at my restraints.
"So impatient, baby?"
He cups my tit in his hand, then bends and bites down on my nipple. My pussy instantly clenches. More moisture squeezes out between my legs.
