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Maybe I have.
No, I haven't.
The debate continues and spirals faster until electricity sizzles in the air and I realize Riggs is standing behind me. More excruciating minutes pass until he trails his finger down my spine.
I shudder, unable to stop my reaction.
He murmurs, "Do you remember what I added to my vow on our wedding day?"
My heart swoons the same way it does whenever I think about that moment. I answer, "Yes, Sir."
He moves my hair over my right shoulder, then kisses the curve of my neck. I inhale deeply, fighting to stay in my position, as he questions, "What did I promise you, pet?"
"You said, 'I vow to prove you wrong and work on my faults,'" I tell him.
He adds, "The first day you recorded in the studio, you sang about how we weren't forever and that I was okay with it. Well, news flash. I'm not okay with it. I've never been okay with it and never will be."
I blink hard, willing myself not to cry. I'm tired of the tears. There've been too many, and I promised myself I wouldn't spend tonight with wet cheeks surrounded by tissues.
He circles me and lifts my chin, pinning his dark leer on me. His controlling tone ignites an inextinguishable fire in my core as he demands, "Tell me what you added to your vows."
I don't want to answer him. I know my husband well. It's too painful to admit, and there's no doubt he'll use it against me.
Riggs knows I don't want to obey. His lips curl into a tight curve, and he firmly reminds me, "Who's in charge, pet?"
My butterflies take off. I try to lift my chin, but he's holding it firmly. I answer, "You are, Sir."
The darkness grows in his expression, and my insides throb. "Your vows, Blakely. Admit what you decided to declare in your vows to me, your husband, who you chose without any hesitation," he orders.
It's another truth I can't deny. And I still don't want to speak the words out loud, but I know I have to. So I take several deep breaths to control my emotions, hating and loving how Riggs flipped me into submission and made me lose all control to disobey him.
He adds, "Say it exactly as you stated it to me on our wedding day."
A tear drips down my cheek. I confess, "I vow to always accept all of you, your faults and all."
A flicker of the look he gave me when I said it on the beach in Maui appears on his expression, then quickly fades back into the darker one he wears whenever he's in his Dom role. He picks up my hand with my wedding ring and positions it over my collar so I'm gripping it. He stares at the diamond and then locks eyes with me. "It seems you aren't keeping your promise to me, are you?"
"Are you?" I hurl, pissed he's accusing me of breaking my vows while not upholding his.
His eyes turn to slits. He rises, yanks me off the floor, and pins me against the cold glass, fisting my hair so I'm facing the ceiling. I inhale sharply, squeezing my thighs together as he hovers his face above mine. He hisses, "You forgot the Sir."
The bratty side of me appears. Riggs can't stand it when it comes out, and I know it. There's a split second where I can squash her, but I let her fly, smirking. "Sorry, Sir. Are you upholding your vow?"
Red crawls up his neck and into his cheeks. I rarely see it, and I've barely pushed him, so I'm surprised it appears so easily. But the look he gives me when he's like this only causes the adrenaline to rush through me faster. He declares, "I try every day to be better for you."
"Do you, Sir?" I push, grinding my thigh into his erection.
He glances down, then slowly drags his gaze back to mine.
Before he can say anything, I add, "Oops. Rule seven. Sorry."
I know I'm going too far. I'm weaving in and out of my role, which I haven't done since the beginning of my training. A mix of rage, confusion, and desire spins over his sharp features.
I'm on a slippery slope. I don't know how Riggs is going to deal with my insubordination. I'm not a naive sub in training anymore. The rules are clear, and I'm choosing to break them.
To further rile him up, I reach up and slide my hand up his chest and around his neck, gripping his hair the same way he grips mine. I whisper, "What you did wasn't doing better."
"'Accept all of you. Faults and all,'" he snarls. Then he challenges, "Or was that a convenient lie at the moment?"
