The Gilded Cage

The Gilded Cage by Lauren Smith Page A

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Authors: Lauren Smith
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deny him. The thought sent wicked spirals of sexual hunger through her. She craved that dominance, that sweet sense of being under his enchanting thrall.
    “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” He murmured against her lips. “The things I…” He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down for an instant, the little zing of pain going straight to her clit, making her arch her back.
    “What things?” she demanded, dying to know what he wanted to do to her.
    Another kiss followed—one that was raw, hard-edged, almost bruising. “I’d use my belt to tie you up, and spend hours exploring every inch of you, playing with you until you were begging me for release, honey. I’d eat you up, again and again, and you’d never get enough, not while I’m inside of you.”
    He stroked her thigh, rubbing and caressing her until she was wet and wriggling as she tried to control herself. It didn’t work. When she wound her arms around his neck, he suddenly broke the contact of their mouths. A whimper of protest escaped her. How dare he deny her the pleasure he’d just promised, the raw carnality that would be utterly life-changing? A man couldn’t just back out of a promise like that.
    “Sorry, honey. If we keep this up, I’m going to pin you down right here in the truck. Let’s go to town.” He set her back on her side of the seat and started the truck’s engine while she buckled up. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice how badly her hands shook or how flushed she still was after that all-consuming kiss.
    Once they were heading down the road, Hayden reached over and flicked the radio knob on. Classic rock boomed through the speakers. She blinked, startled at Fenn’s choice in music. When she glanced over at him, he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. The song was “Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas. The irony wasn’t lost on her. A song about a man working toward a sense of peace after finishing something hard he had to do. It happened to be one of Emery’s favorites, too. She nibbled her bottom lip, then decided to take a chance. Maybe talking about Emery would help Fenn decide to come back to Long Island.
    “You know, this is your brother’s favorite song. Your dad used to play it for you and Emery when you were kids.”
    Fenn’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t cut her off or silence her.
    “Don’t you want to know anything about him?”
    “No.”
    “Fenn, please.” She touched his arm. “Just ask me one thing. I want you to know something about him. You deserve to know about him. He wants to know all about you.”
    Please, please ask me something.
    Fenn stared straight ahead, his gaze distant, but he finally spoke.
    “Do…do they still mourn the loss of their son?” His voice was a little rough.
    His question fractured her heart enough that she swore she heard it shatter, but she was relieved he was talking.
    “They have always mourned you. They built a special place for you in the family cemetery. Emery visits it almost once a week. It’s a beautiful spot. It has these willows around it and it’s so peaceful.” Was she an idiot? Why had she said that? Way to go, Hayden, scare him off with talk of death.
    A telltale tic worked in Fenn’s jaw and her stomach churned. Had she gone too far? Messed things up before she’d even gotten through to him?
    “Do you have any idea what it’s going to be like when Emery is able to tell your parents about you?” Her throat tightened but she struggled to continue. “They love you, more than you can imagine. To find out their firstborn son isn’t dead? It’s going to bring them out of the darkness they’ve been in for twenty-five years. Can you even imagine that?”
    She didn’t expect him to respond and when he did it surprised her.
    “It would be like waking up from a nightmare.”
    Was that how he pictured his life? A nightmare that he hadn’t yet woken up from, one where he had never known the love of

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