Page 166 of Vicious Butterfly
“Give me that pretty neck, dollface.”
I open for him. His lips find my pulse point, and they suck. I don’t want to think, or talk, or do anything but breathe Tate in. Pleasure curls like smoke through all my limbs. I arch my back and moan, already panting. His lips travel down, down, down, along my collarbone, and then his teeth sink into my shoulder. I dip my head forward, muffling my cry into his neck.
“I’m going to mark you up so good,” he says.
How long has he been waiting for this? Putting marks where they’ll show?Probably since the day he met you, and even more since the day you told him he couldn’t.
Tate’s lips find my lips, the kiss is hungry, deep. Like he’s trying to find his way back into my soul, but he never left it. Tate’s there forever.
He snarls. “They tried to take you from me.”
With his hair a picture of utter hysteria, loose, feathered over his face, and the darkness around his eyes from being high for days, he’s demonic perfection. He leans back, opening his pants to pull out his cock and stroke it, watching me, as if I’m the most fascinating thing in the world.
He seems to have a sudden thought. He drops his cock, reaching into his pocket, pulling out my wedding ring. Did he get it when he came in here, or has he been carrying that around with him?
Taking my palm, pressing his thumb into the center, and wrapping his fingers around the hand so it’s trapped, he slides the ring onto my wedding finger.
“This goes here. It never comes off again. You’re mine forever,” he says. “If you run from me, I’ll find you. When we die, I’ll chase you into your next life, and the one after that, too.”
“I’d never leave you, Tate. I never want to.”
“But you did.”
Ah, yeah, that. I was hoping we’d fuck first, deal with important shit later. He shrugs out of his jacket, though, tossing it on the floor. Maybe we’re doing a bit of both.
Smoothing his fingers along my cheek, his thumb drags until it finds the divot between my bottom lip and chin. “You made the decision for me.”
“No, I … I was trying to make it easier for you.”
“Itwaseasy for me. Easiest decision I’ve ever made.”
“You picked me?” Yeah, those words come out of my mouth, even though I suspected he did. It’s not hard to believe that he would; it’s hard to believe someone thinks I’m that important. I’ve always been my father’s heir and nothing else.
“You’re mine,” he snaps. “Of course, I picked you.”
“I didn’t want to make you choose between your brother and me.”
A soft rumble starts in his chest, expanding into amused laughter. “Make me? You don’tmakeme do anything, dollface.”
“Tate, be serious. It’s your brother, I’m just?—”
“The man I can’t live without.” He sucks on my neck some more. “The man I would maim, kill, and die for.” He finds my lips and steals a hungry kiss. “My heart only beats for you. I love you, dollface.”
“You said that when …”
“When I was high as a kite? I remember. I meant it.”
“But you said you couldn’t love.”
“I know what I said, but then I met you and realized I didn’t know shit.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper. He takes one of my beat-up hands and presses his lips to the battered knuckles.
“I know,” he says like the smug bastard he is.
32
TATE
