Wynter's POV
He’s still advancing on me, and I’m struggling to focus on just how easily he could grab me and throw me onto my bed, take me . . and how much I would like him to do so.
Taking another step into my space, he kicks my door shut behind him and the room shrinks around me, the air getting thicker. Closer and closer he gets to me until we’re toe to toe, my back pressed to the small chest of drawers that holds my few clothes.
Reaching up, he plucks a tendril of my hair that has fallen from my ponytail whilst I was studying and rubs it between his fingers.
‘I wasn’t grieving my wife Wynter’ he murmurs roughly, ‘I wasn’t even thinking about her at that moment. How could I, when I had a Goddess underneath me, so receptive to me, so open to everything I asked of her . . ‘
I shiver
