Page 89 of Hush Darling

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Because I disobeyed my father. Once he knows I’m safe, he’ll be furious. I won’t be able to simply disappear again.”

“You’re an adult, Wendy. How much control could they possibly have over you?”

“Asks the man who took total control from me last night.”

“That’s different. You surrendered.”

“Under duress,” she said with a laugh.

“Does that mean you regret it?”

“No. But I will regret leaving when you let me go.”

“Who says I’ll let you go?”

She met his stare, but behind the challenge hid sadness. “James, we both know this is too complicated for me to stay. At least for now.”

He always knew this would be temporary, but the closer they came to the end, the more he hated the idea of ever letting her go.

“We still have time.” He lifted her out of the tub, leaving a trail of water on the floor. “As long as you’re here, you’re still mine.” He dried her before the hearth, then backed her into the wall with a possessive kiss.

When he pulled away, she looked up at him with unguarded trust. He traced his fingers down her cheek. Fearful he might lose his will and beg her to stay, he tossed a velvet cushion on the floor and took control. “On your knees.”

She lowered to the cushion and looked up at him.

“Now, open your mouth like a good girl.”

She parted her lips, and he pressed into her mouth. This was still new to her, so he took it slow.

“That’s it. Relax your throat, and let me fuck that pretty mouth.” His palms flattened to the wall as he slowly flexed his hips. “Suck it like a good little slut would.”

The moment her lips tightened around him he groaned. He’d meant to be gentle, but it wasn’t long before he was cupping the back of her head to protect her from the wall.

“Yes, that’s a fucking good girl. Keep going. Don’t you dare fucking stop. I own that filthy mouth, and I’m going to fuck it until I come.”

She moaned as he slid deeper. Losing himself in the delicious sensation, his mind started to wander. This might be the last chance together.

The lump in his throat tightened, and his vision blurred. He didn’t want to let her go. He could already sense how awful her absence would feel.

Alone again.

Abandoned.

“Fuck!”

“What’s the matter?”

He turned his back on her, pacing the floor as he tried to get a hold of his emotions. “Is this real?”

“Of course, it’s real.”

How could she go from this back to her refined life? There were two totally different versions of her.

“Which is the real you, the one in London or the one here, kneeling on my floor?”