CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I didn’t know what I wanted, or what I expected, when I ran from Caspian earlier, but standing here now, looking in his whiskey eyes with my thighs coated in his cum, feeling his ownership wrap around me like a warm blanket, I knew this was it—I wanted to be his.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t still angry with him, though.
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to hell for this,” I said as I bent down to grab my panties.
He smirked, not the slightest hint of remorse in his expression. “I’m going to hell for a lot of things. Add this to the list.” He tugged his pants up.
I pulled my panties up over my ass. “Yeah, well, I didn’t even have a list until you, so…”
He tucked his cock into his underwear, then zipped his pants. His top button was still unfastened, and his belt hung loose. The need to unzip his pants and taste him burned at me until my mouth went dry. God, I’d missed this man.
And I hated him.
But for reasons unknown, I couldn’t stay away from him. Caspian Donahue was a brute force. He was power, protection, insanity, and chaos wrapped in a flawless package. I was paralyzed in his fierce, golden-brown eyes. The hunger for his touch was cemented in my bones.
He cradled my face in one hand and leaned in. “Oh, you’ve always had a list.” He traced my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “You just didn’t start checking it off until me.”
I took a deep breath. This place—this holy place—smelled like sex and sin.
“Why did you do it?” I said the words as calmly as possible, though inside my heart was racing. From the orgasm high. From the closeness of his presence. From fear.
I wasn’t sure I really wanted an answer for his unexpected outburst. It wasn’t love. Caspian and I shared a lot of emotions, but I doubted love was one of them.
There was sex.
There was love.
Then, there was us.
We were somewhere in between.
Weren’t we?
He watched me with the same dark intensity he had when he’d first backed me into this confessional. His hands worked to tuck in his shirt and fix his belt. He looked as if he’d just come from a business meeting, not like he’d just ravaged my body inside a church.
“Come home with me. We’ll talk about it there.” Confidence laced his tone the same way it had when he’d made his announcement to a room full of my father’s family and friends.
“No. We’re talking about it now. The damage you did can’t be undone. My father has worked his whole life for that moment, and you stole it from him. He will never forgive you.” I knew that without a doubt. Malcolm Huntington didn’t forgive and forget. “And for what reason? To prove a point? To win some kind of pissing contest between our families?”
His jaw flexed and clenched. “You think that’s what that was about? You think I did what I did to ruin your father’s campaign announcement?”
“Didn’t you?”
I knew Caspian wasn’t petty. That wasn’t his game. But what other reason was there?
“This isn’t the time or place.”
“It’s the perfect time and place.” I gestured at the tiny space we were in. “Bring the darkness to light, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
He placed a palm on the wall behind my head, then leaned in and spoke against my ear. His tone was low and deep, almost menacing. “Tatum, this will be the one and only time you will ever hear me beg for anything. But I am asking you—please, just let me take you home. And I promise I will tell you everything.” His scent floated around me, over me, seeping inside me.
Home.
He said it as if it were a collective place for all of our troubles, for all of our fears, and all of our happiness.
I stared up at him. “Okay.”