Chapter 17 ~ In his arms

Chapter 17 In his arms

Athena

The plan was supposed to be simple revenge.

But now that he's here, so close to me, I'm starting to regret what I did.

I scramble to sit up, the fog of sleep clinging to me as I stammer, "I-

I'm sorry. I was just—"

I don't get to finish. His hand

snakes around my wrist as I try to move away, and in one

swift motion, I stumble forward-right

into his chest as he falls with his back on his bed and me on top of him.

Damn it!

He's warm. Solid. His arm tightens around me like a steel band.

"Let me go," I mutter, but my voice

cracks, betraying the warring emotions raging inside me.

He doesn't.

Instead, he smirks-a broken, bitter curve of his lips. "Being in a man's bed isn't exactly good manners, is it?"

I clench my jaw, my pride flaring. "It's not just any

man," I fire back. "It's my husband's.'

His laugh is deep, low, mocking, and it cuts through me.

"Husband," he repeats, rolling the word off his tongue like it's a joke.

The sound of it-the venom in his voice-stings more than I want it to.

bad with Leah that you had

like this?" I snap, trying

green eyes clouded with something I can't

are just fine," he says, his voice

"In fact, we're so perfect I can't wait to marry

words knock the air from my

to push him away, to shove him off me, and storm

stays locked around

against him, trapping me.

me go!" I protest but he

in my

Sweetheart.

One word.

powerful enough to make me explode as my insides

glaring at him, though I can feel

thumb grazes the bare skin

too slow like he's testing my limits. "Why not?" he muses, voice a rough whisper. "Seemed to like

to turn into an

the playful smirk slipping for a fraction of a second, replaced by

gone before I can

he growls. "What does

at his chest, ignoring the way my

come

came to remind you

just

hand catches my chin,

sure about that? Because

cute in your seep. What? We're you hoping I'd wake you

between us-thick,

my own

and I hate it. I hate him. I hate the

voice, his

unravels me.

hate that, for a split second, I don't pull

manage,

the headboard, his head tilting, a wicked

Sweetheart. You're the

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