“That’s the problem, Ryot. It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine about this marriage.”

“So you’re just giving up and tossing in the towel? Are you going out with Nichole so she can attempt to hook you up with some random guy?”

No, not even close. I don’t want to hook up with anyone, but I don’t like his tone or assumption, so for some stupid reason, I don’t deny it.

“I can do whatever the hell I want, Ryot.” I try to move past him, but he stops me with his hand on my hip. His domineering body towers over me as he moves me against the wall where his other hand falls to the white surface, right next to my face.

“You’re still my goddamn wife, Myla. That means you’re mine.” The hand gripping my hip tightens. “This body, it’s mine. That sassy mind of yours is mine. And those rose-colored lips that have explored every inch of my body? They still belong to me.” I stare up at him, ready to throw up my defenses, ready to tell him otherwise, but my body betrays me as my lungs pant for air, and my tongue wets my lips.

Ryot has always had control over my body. Not because he’s stolen it or taken what was not given to him, but because I offered every part of myself to this man, and he’s coddled it. He’s held it close to his heart. Like I said, sex has never been an issue. Ever. And right now, I can feel that urge, that need, that want to be with him. To have him pin me to the bed on my stomach, lift my ass in the air, and drive into me with that delicious cock of his.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asks, the cockiness in his voice immediately irritating me.

“No.” I look away, but he grips my chin and forces me to meet his intense glare.

“Yes, you fucking are.” His fingers now fall to my jaw, where he tips my head back against the wall. “You’re thinking about my cock and how delicious it feels thrusting in and out of you. You’re thinking about the control, the command I have on you. Tell me I’m fucking wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, my hands pushing at his chest. Even though he’s stronger than I am and would normally be unfazed by my push, he steps back, giving me space. “None of this matters.”

“The fuck it doesn’t,” he says. “You’re my wife. Therefore, you’re not permitted to even think about another man, not until those papers are signed.”

“Permitted?” I fold my arms. “Where do you get off acting like you control me?”

“You took vows, Myla,” he says in a low growl. “And until those vows are severed, you will respect them.”

“Uh-huh, and would that apply to you as well?”

“They don’t need to apply to me.” He closes the space between us and, this time, takes both of my hands in his and pins them above my head. He leans in so his nose grazes my cheek. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. It’s you I think about. It’s you I want in my goddamn bed. It’s you I want wearing my ring.” His lips skim my ear. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Myla.”