Page 149 of Intense

I’ve pushed him away so hard because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified of caring enough that he could leave me.

“Yeah, I really fucking do, Mrs. Quinn. I rather like you.”

A smile spreads across my lips. “Love and hate can walk the same line, I suppose.”

“There was never any hate, was there?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine.

I shake my head. “Annoyance and jealousy, maybe.”

“Admitting it is the first step.”

“Are you going to show me this new kink or…?”

“New?” His brow arches.

I narrow my eyes. “You better not be doing that with other women, Dr. Quinn.”

His finger presses to my lips, making my eyes go wide.

“You drive me insane, wife. Do you honestly think I have the time or patience to entertain anyone else?” He leans in closer. “You’re the only woman who’s ever had her hands on me like this. The only one who’s felt me fill her and drip down her thighs. The only one who makes my heart skip a beat. And you’re about to be the only woman I’ve ever let touch me back—look me in the eyes—as we both break for each other. So no, temptress. You’re the only one who gets this side of me. Understand how rare that is.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I slide my arms around his neck. “I understand, sir,” I whisper.

His body vibrates against mine. “Fuck, we gotta go.”

We say our goodbyes in a blur; he’s practically dragging me to his car.

He fastens my seatbelt before sliding in behind the wheel.

“I feel bad we weren't there long,” I tell him.

He laces my fingers through his and pulls my hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss there.

“They know I’m a busy man. There will be plenty of time for you to get to know them all. I’m selfish when it comes to you, love. Now I have you, I want to know everything there is about you.”

My eyes start to sting with tears. The weight of this whole relationship crashing down on me. How this man knows how to say just the right thing to settle everything inside of me.

“I think you know more about me than anyone else in my entire life, Finn.”

He smiles and places another kiss on my ring finger.

“Ditto,” he whispers as he turns on the engine.

“Now, I need to feed you before I feed on you,” he says with a grin.

“What kind of food do you like? Other than my pussy?”

“Caviar?” he teases.

I wrinkle my nose. “No, rich boy. Burgers?”

His tone shifts. “What have I told you about calling me that?”

“But you are rich,” I tease.

“Very. Obscenely. And it means nothing to me.”