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He doesn’t have to. Actions speak louder than words.
And neither of us is quiet.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Marcus
When I walked out of the study last night, I instructed Leighton to call me if she needed to use the bathroom.
I was counting on it that she would. Hoped to be there when she pees, to inject myself into every part of her life.
Wished that maybe, just maybe, she’d have a change of heart. Hear her small, pretty voice as she asks me to open up. She’d have threaded her fingers with mine as we explored the dark side. Together.
Always together.
Yet she hasn’t.
Can’t say I’m disappointed with what she did decide to do.
My dick got so hard as I stood, immersed in the night while watching her in my suit jacket. Her fingers on the spines of the books I bought for her. The awe in her eyes and the pretty O shape of her lips when she recognized the titles.
I had the front-row seats to the show of her gratitude.
Then her rage at the pictures I’d plastered to the wall last year. The ones I couldn’t keep at home. The concept of boundaries is foreign to Rylan, and I could’ve never thrown the pictures away.
It worked in my favor. Leighton received another glimpse into my soul. What goes through my heart when she’s close and yet so unattainable.
The torture I’ve been through.
The torture I go through today. To this fucking moment.
Starting the day without her, when I’m lying on the floor outside the study hurt me on a visceral level.
I did it anyway.
A jog, followed by a workout and a shower. Trimming my scruff, leaving enough to chafe at Leighton’s thighs. I had every intention of leaving marks on her the next time I’ll eat her out.
I threw on a pair of jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt, then drank coffee by myself while Leighton slept. Watched what my daughter’s been up to—nothing, other than typing relentlessly on her laptop.
Later, I roasted vegetables in the oven and fixed everything for the filet Leighton and I will have for lunch.
Unlike yesterday, though, Leighton won’t spend the whole day in bed.
She’s mine. I’m having her.
The darkness lifts from my heart the second I unlock the door to the study and step inside. Free from jealousy of Milo, I’m ready to face Leighton today.
I’m composed. I’m prepared for an honest, more ethical session.
I annihilate the distance between the door and where Leighton lies.
She’s curled up to her side, facing me. Her pink lips are parted, her cheeks painted a healthy shade of red. Beneath her beautiful face peeks out the picture I snapped of her last summer. After emptying myself on her lips.
Honestly, I half expected her to tear this picture in particular to shreds. Instead, my Leighton slept with it.
However strong her denial is, her love for me burns brighter.
I crouch, groaning at the sweet scent of her morning breath. I wrap my hand around her neck, pulling her close and slanting my lips over hers. Probing, Teasing. Being gentle.
