Only to pull back one more time, demanding not to fuck in the house. Like he didn’t even care if I slept with Xander. It pissed me off. His hot and cold and back to hot was like oxygen to a fire. After our argument, I’d promised to step back, to stop torturing him, and let it be. I’d hoped that we’d find our norm again and it would work out. The connection we’d formed so quickly couldn’t be denied for long, and I’d pushed for it with sex, but the reality was that we hadn’t gotten there with sex. We’d gotten there by listening to each other, by spending time and falling for each other.
The sex had been the culmination of all that, and I’d wanted to recreate that bond no matter how much time it took.
That had been the plan until he’d come into the kitchen, reigniting the fire in me. He’d doused the waiting embers in gasoline, and between the need and frustration and want, I was ready to explode.
The stubborn, petulant side of me considered defying him and taking Xander to my room. It’d serve him right to know Xander would be the one to pleasure me—to see my naked body. He’d be the one sucking on my brea—
“No,” I breathed.
A thought slammed in my head, stopping my revenge plot like a scratched record. The fantasy of Xander being the one to stare at my breasts had me wondering what he would see. The spot where Willem’s mouth clung moments ago tingled.
“No. He wouldn’t.” I ran down the hall to the bathroom and closed the door, tugging my top aside, and sure enough, two hickeys decorated the underside of my breasts, like stark beacons laying claim to me so no one else could.
“That mother fucker.”
I almost ran straight upstairs, ready for battle. But the laughter from out back reminded me of my guests—guests I needed to leave because there was no way I could shove anything down for later.
A hurricane of emotions whirled inside me, growing bigger with each step to the backyard, so when I finally made it out, all semblance of politeness was gone.
“Everyone needs to leave.”
Five confused faces turned my way, but I didn’t care. I needed them gone because I needed privacy for the explosion that lingered on the horizon.
“Please,” I added, trying to soften the amount of crazy pouring off me. “Something came up.”
It took less than five minutes for everyone to pile out. Five minutes too long where I rudely cut off any questions or comments, too focused on what was to come.
Willem Deander had cared for me, fucked me, shut me down, and made me feel immature. He’d ignored me and embarrassed me—when I deserved it—and lit a fire in me again just to shut it down—again. He’d told me not to fuck anyone in his house, knowing damn well I couldn’t because he’d marked me anyway.
My independence raged at being controlled with his backhanded actions. My body burned from what he’d done, remembering his mouth on me. My heart thudded harder than before because he cared, but I was terrified it wasn’t enough.
Like all other times in my life, stubbornness and arrogance won out. So, once everyone cleared the driveway, I stomped up the stairs right to his room and flung the door open, storming in.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He jerked up, eyes wide, setting his book aside. “What?”
“What? You don’t want me, but no one else can have me?”
“Arabella,” he sighed my name and stood from the chair by the window.
“Don’t Arabella me. You fucking marked me and then left me. What if I wanted to fuck Xander tonight? What if I did want him to eat my pussy so I could ride his face.” His fists clenched, and victory sparked, knowing I was getting to him. I’d backed off and look where that got us. I was tired of running. We were facing this. “Maybe I wanted to sit on his cock as he sucked my tits. Maybe I wanted to see if it felt as good when he bit them as when you did.”
“Stop,” he growled, taking two challenging steps closer.
“Why? Why fucking should I?”
“Because us together is wrong. I’m older than you. I’m your uncle.”
“Oh, here we go,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so adamant about clinging to this stupid thought that I’m actually your niece.” When he didn’t answer, I pushed harder, needing a reaction, knowing it was a weak excuse and wanting him to finally admit it. “Is it because secretly you like it? Does it turn you on thinking of me as your niece? Another forbidden fantasy?”
His warning glare only spurred me on, and he knew it, my smirk a warning for what was to come. We both knew he didn’t want this scene, but I’d be damned if I was the first one to cave. I went to the bed, undoing my bikini top, letting it fall to the floor on the way.