Page 41

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sienna

“Are you feeling okay? You’re not acting yourself,” Jeremy asks, sparing me a glance from the corner of his eyes before looking back toward the road.

I shake my head, then remember he won’t see my reaction; he’s already looking straight ahead, blocking out my very existence.

“No. I have a headache.” I swallow back the lie and turn to look out the car window and into the dark skyline of the city as it whizzes past us.

I can’t believe he came to Miami. My breath stutters and my pulse skitters.

All this time and I finally see him again, but this time he’s bolder, more brash. The gleam in his eyes is malicious, a feeling I’m not accustomed to where Stone is concerned, and it unnerves me.

The scent of his cum is still on me, and I don’t have it in me to clean it from my skin. Knowing he marked me with his pleasure sends a wave of warmth rushing through me.

He wanted to mark me as his. He still wants me.

My stomach swirls with butterflies, a combination of excitement and nervousness. My entire being is consumed by him, and his cock filled me like only he knows how. The magnetic pull we have was as catalytic as ever, the connection incomparable to anything I’ve ever felt before. Like he’s the only person in the world for me, a soul mate destined for doom but prevails, nonetheless, and the hate and roughness behind him was something new.

I bite into my lip as I slowly work through the memory, as if cataloging it all to detail.

God, the roughness.

The depravity.

I’ve always seen it in his eyes, but it’s the first time I’ve ever experienced it, and I wonder if he has used other women this way before. I close my eyes at the pain of thinking he’s touched other women, experienced them when we were always meant to be.

They’ve experienced his touch and solace when I’ve had no choice but to endure my pain alone.

“I don’t like your behavior tonight, Sienna,” Jeremy seethes from beside me, snapping me out of my self-loathing and wayward thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper like a chastised child while wringing my hands in my lap as worry ebbs beneath my skin.

He turns his head, but I don’t have the courage to lift mine to face him. “Don’t let it happen again,” he snaps.

A sob catches in my throat at the prospect of letting him down, and I nod. “Of course.”

I look up from beneath my lashes to find his smile has quickly encompassed his handsome face. “Good.” The car comes to a stop. “We’re home now. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath? I’ll be in bed shortly.” The giddiness behind his words isn’t lost on me.

And like that, my blood runs cold, but I feign the perfected smile of a happy wife in order to protect us.

All of us.