“That morning, before you left…” Swallowing hard, he tucks a braid behind my ear. “I meant what I said. There’s no one else. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
His vow makes it difficult to find my voice, and when I do, it’s a choked sound of heartbreak. “I’ll be as loyal to you as I can.”
Guilt winds around my heart as I think of the nights I’ve shared a bed with someone else, naked and intimate, despite Miles never setting a finger on me. But eventually, he’ll get what he wants. They all will.
“Don’t let your mind drag you down, princess.” A tick goes off in his jaw. “I can’t say I’m not jealous as hell, but it’s not your fault.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he backs away. “You should go before I kiss the shit out of you.”
There’s a note of vulnerability in his voice, a dangerous tone that threatens to weaken my resolve until I take what I want, consequences be damned. Before I make a mistake that’s fatal to our future, I pivot and head toward Elise.
Walking away from Sebastian feels final this time, and as my eyes sting with fresh tears, I remind myself that seven months is nothing compared to a lifetime with him.
But right now, my fragile heart doesn’t know the difference.
9
Warm skin over taut muscles. The earthy spice of his essence surrounding me. A moan floating through the air. Part of my psyche knows it’s a dream, that Sebastian isn’t spooning me, his hot mouth on my neck as he palms my breasts.
I squirm, pressing my tingling thighs together as I bunch the sheet against my sex. Reality or not, there isn’t an atom of my being that wants to vacate this dream. Especially when reality is hazy, and I’m on fire in Sebastian’s arms, the space between my legs throbbing for his touch.
“Please.” My gasp turns into another moan, and I expect him to wedge a hand between my thighs, slipping a finger down my wet slit to give me sweet, aching relief.
A cold hand shakes my shoulder instead.
“Wake up, my queen.”
That’s not Sebastian’s voice, and it’s definitely not how he’d address me. To him, I’ve always been Novalee, or princess, or even the occasional baby. He’s refused to call me by my title since the day I met him, and if he were to ever use that word, it would drip with scorn.
With a startled gasp, I jerk upright. It’s still dark enough that I can’t see Miles clearly, but the first hint of the morning sky filters through the windows, and I discover him sprawled on his back with one arm flung over his eyes. His chest heaves as he grits his teeth.
“Are you okay?” I ask, unsure of what to do or say.
He doesn’t move, and without thinking, I plant my hand on his chest to get his attention, worried I lashed out in my sleep and accidentally caught him in the face with a flying elbow.
“Don’t,” he says, shoving my hand off of him. Flinging the bed covers back, he hauls his legs over the edge.
I cover my mouth, heartbeat racing at my collarbone. “D-did I hurt you?”
Miles laughs, shaking his head. “Not unless your wet dream was a weapon.” He drags a hand through his short hair. “Though watching you moan…well let’s just say I’m past the point of comfortable.”
A hard swallow, a lick of my lower lip, and I struggle to speak. “What does that mean?”
“It means my cock wants out to play.”
“But you can’t.” My mind goes to the jewelry wardrobe where I hid the key. If he thinks I’m going to hand it over now, he’s mistaken.
“No, I can’t, which is why I’m going to take a cold shower.” He stands, and the gradual light of dawn brings him into full view, tight end and all. He heads toward the bathroom with an undeniable swagger—as if he knows I’m eying his impressive backside. Upset with myself for even noticing, I focus above his waist.
“By the way,” he says, stalling on the threshold and tossing a glance over his shoulder. “It would be very gracious of you to fix me breakfast, since today is my birthday.” A cunning smile follows his request. “I expect your answer then.”
After he disappears into the shower, I flop onto the mattress as fear constricts my throat. I’ve gone stir-crazy these past few days, having only been allowed the occasional walk and access to my art supplies.
In the past week, since I’ve been in the House of Virgo, Miles hasn’t budged on the issue of my studio. He’s made his terms clear, and now I have no choice but to face this day of reckoning. I want to be strong, to resist trading my self-respect for self-preservation, because spending every moment in this house with him, naked and vulnerable, is almost more than I can bear.