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I whimper as he follows the same tortuous routine with his tongue and teeth on my left nipple, which has always been more sensitive than the right. My head lolls back, and I rest my forearms on his shoulders, my fingers playing with his hair.

“Olivia . . .”

“Hmm?”

Can’t think.

Can’t breathe.

“What other concerns do you have?”

“I thought you might hurt Danny for what he said to me.”

His lips pop from the fabric, his mouth parted and his brows knitted together.

“Don’t stop, please,” I beg.

He withdraws his hand back between my legs and gently moves me to the side. Standing and heading toward thedoor, his head bent low and shaking. He mutters something to himself. My heart hammers in my chest, sinking like an anchor, hitting the seabed with such force that everything living swims as far away as possible.

“Wait, where are you going?” I whine desperately.

“Downstairs. You’re not ready. You don’t trust me.”

“You stormed out after you heard my conversation with Danny. What was I supposed to assume?”

“Did it ever cross your mind that if I wanted to confront Danny, I would have just come out of the basement?”

Well, fuck.

“I . . .”

“So all afternoon, you just thought I was either fucking someone else or hurting your brother?”

“Austin . . .”

“Answer me.”

“Y...Yes, that’s what I thought. At least a small part of me did. But you have to take some responsibility for me jumping to those conclusions.”

“You kidnapped me, remember? You brought yourself into this world, and now you act like I’m the one that’s tried to harm you. I’ve never, not once, caused you harm, and yet you fear me so much.”

“Because I know what you’re capable of,” I practically shout.

The remark lands just how it means to. His lips part in disbelief, and he shakes his head again, disappointment rolling off him in waves. His explanation makes sense, but I need to be right more than I need him to point out the flaw in my argument. And now I’ve hurt him—the big bad wolf, wounded by the puny human.

He tilts his head to the ceiling. Praying to someone, maybe. How to deal with a paranoid girlfr—companionwho, after having her nippled sucked to the brink of an orgasm, has decided to kill the moment by freaking out.

He steps toward me, and the squeeze in my chestloosens a fraction. Clasping my hands, he brings them to his lips and presses hard against the skin. He’s been so angry, so upset, and now he is comforting me. My heart is a yo-yo; the constant rise and fall is making my head spin.

“I like your brother, but I like you more,” he says, his voice even and calm.

“Okay?” I say as a small sob slips out.

He brushes the tear that has rolled down my cheek. “Well...you love your brother. If I hurt him, I’d hurt you.”

“And you don’t want to do that?”

He laughs. “Why would I want to hurt you? I’ve been trying very hard to date you.”