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“Guilt. I felt guilty. I felt like he gave me the world in terms of being a loving husband and partner and why would I ever even have a single thought about straying or wanting someone else when I had him? I truly believed he was the perfect man.”
My heart hurts for her, even if it would have meant I’d never have her in my arms were things different. I can’t stand seeing the pain in her eyes. “And now, I feel guilt because of something else.”
“Why now? You have zero reason to feel any guilt. You didn’t do anything wrong in all of this but have an open heart for a man who was using you.” I lower my voice as I add, “And for trusting me.”
“Because I know I would never give Dane a second chance, even for just lying to me about The Scarlett Letter, let alone all the other women. I certainly wouldn’t give him a second chance for meeting me under false pretenses and using me, even if he had developed real feelings for me. But for some reason, knowing that you were the one who introduced us, you were the one who kept his secrets from me whether it was other women or the club or all of it… here I am, in your arms.”
I bring my other hand to rest beneath her chin so that I can tilt it upward. “And how does that make you feel, Emery?”
“I know I should hate you. I know I should feel anger. But all I feel is love, Mads. It scares me. I'm confused, but I can't deny what's in my heart.”
It feels like time stands still. Like all the energy and sound has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “Say it again,” I tell her.
“I’m in love with you. I—I love you,” she says softly. By the time she finishes her last word, I’m pulling her to me, my tongue in her mouth, my hands grabbing at her, pulling at her to get her closer to me.
“Again,” I say into her mouth through a kiss as I press her against the wall behind me.
“I love you.” She pants the words as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press my arousal into her. I pin her arms above her head. My tongue can’t get deeper, my lips can’t taste her enough. I’m drowning in her and I still crave her.
“Home, now,” I growl into her mouth as I finally peel her from the wall and put her back on her feet. I grab her hand, pulling her forcefully through the doors and across the floor, back out into the hallway. I look for a back exit, finally finding a stairwell that I pull her down.
She stops a few stairs down, grabbing me and kissing me again. We stumble, almost falling as we continue to explore each other’s mouths.
“Fuck, I need you.”
I claw at her clothes, kicking open the door at the bottom of the stairs when we finally reach it. I send Tony a text, telling him to meet us out back. I pull her through a back corridor, finally spotting an exit door and bringing her outside. Before she’s even through the doorway, I’m on her, backing her against the brick wall of the building.
Headlights pan across us as Tony pulls the car down the alleyway. I open the back door, climbing inside next to her. I’m pulling her into my lap before I even have the partition in place.
“I need you,” she mewls as she reaches for my belt buckle. Her hand is already inside my pants by the time Tony has the car in gear.
“I am going to fuck you within an inch of your life tonight.” I grab a handful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck as I drag my tongue slowly up it till I reach her ear. “You are going to be my little play thing all night, Emery. I will taste”—I lick inside her mouth in one long, slow stroke of my tongue—“kiss”—another stroke—“bite”—this time I bite her lip—“and touch every square inch of you, baby. Are you ready to be mine?” She nods her head. “I want to hear you tell me, baby. Tell me how much you want me to use you.”
“Please,” she begs, “use me, make me feel good, make it hurt, Mads.”
“You want it rough tonight, sweetheart? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes.”
I grab her by the throat. “Do you remember your safe word?”
“Flower.”
19
EMERY
Mads’ hands are in my hair and all over my body as we ascend to the penthouse in his private elevator. It’s like it’s our first time all over again, frenzied and wild. Then again, this is how it feels every time I’m with him. I can’t get enough of him.
“Oh!” I yelp as the doors open and he picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder and marching through the entryway and down one of the hallways toward the stairs. He takes them two at a time, swinging me around and planting me back on my feet when we reach the top of the stairs.
“Look at me,” he whispers, his hands back in my now mussed hair. His hair hangs wildly over his forehead. My hands must have been in it in the car on the way back home while I was kissing him. He rests his forehead against mine, his chest rising and falling with his labored breathing. “You are everything to me, Emery. Everything.”
“I wish I’d met you first.” I don’t say the words to placate him; I mean them, from the depths of my soul. Not just because it would have saved me a lifetime of regret and heartache, but because of the connection that I’ve created with Mads, the way he makes me feel desired but also protected and loved like I’m so much more than a trophy for his arm or a status symbol.
He pauses his movements. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes. I can’t explain it, but it just feels—right. Like I’m meant to be yours. I’ve never felt this before, Mads.”
