Page 106 of Pretty Savage: Defy

“Better for you,” Carrson mutters, but he doesn’t test the ribbon.

I return to the front of the chair and step close, right between his legs. Slowly, drawing out every movement, I open the next button of his shirt.

“I owe you an apology.”

His eyes remain on my fingers as I move to the one below it.

“I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve told you about the brand as soon as I got it.”

Another button slips free.

“I was afraid because I knew you’d be angry. But you told me you were coming here even though you knew I wouldn’t like it. I should’ve given you the same honesty.”

Carrson’s eyes lift to my face. “Going to a strip club and permanently marking your body with fire are hardly the same thing.”

“I know.” I open the final button, leaving his shirt hanging loose around his torso. “I’m not comparing the decisions. I’m comparing the trust.”

I bend and draw my tongue along the side of his neck. Salt touches my tongue, and Carrson tips his head back, granting me more access despite the anger he’s still holding onto.

“I don’t regret the brand,” I say against his skin. “I regret letting your father reveal it in front of everyone. You would never blindside me that way.”

He stays silent, not done with being mad at me.

That’s fine. I’ve got all night.

“The mark was my decision.” With my eyes on his, I unbuckle his belt and pull it free. “My burden to carry, not yours.”

My fingers find the button of his jeans. Earlier, I watched him dress while pretending not to look. Now I reverse each action deliberately.

“That’s the problem with needing to be in charge of everything. It’s a battle you can’t win. You can’t control the people around you. Me. Your father. The Brothers.”

The button slips free, and I lower his zipper. His erection strains against the thin fabric of his underwear.

“Every bad thing that happens to you is because of me.” Carrson closes his eyes as though he can’t look at me while saying it. “And it’s only going to get worse. The bonding. The sealing.”

I sigh, recognizing what this is. The belief underneath all that control. If every wound is his fault, then every decision should belong to him.

I climb onto his lap and straddle him, with only the thin fabric of our underwear between us. The press of his chest against mine wakes the brand, a bright sting right over my heart. I breathe through it. Tonight I want to feel everything, even this. He keeps his eyes squeezed closed, his lashes forming one dark line against his cheeks.

“Carrson.” I place my hands on either side of his face. “Look at me.”

His eyes remain closed.

“Please.”

His lashes lift. His irises are so dark his pupils nearly disappear, but the pain in them is impossible to miss.

“If terrible things happen because I chose to stand beside you, that isn’t the same as you doing them to me.”

He searches my face, looking for doubt.

He won’t find any.

“The worst thing would’ve been never meeting you.” I slide my fingers into his hair. “You don’t get to decide I would be better without you because being with you comes with a cost.”

I think back to what Rebecca said, that my feelings matter as much as his.

“That choice belongs to me too,” I tell him.