Choices

Choices

SARAH

Cullen stepped closer again, his grip firm but gentle, and I could see the fire in his eyes, the same fire that had kept me alive, kept me safe, even when the world had tried to tear me away from him.

“You’re not letting me make a choice, are you?” he said softly. “You think protecting you is my death sentence. But it’s not. I choose you. And if that means facing everything, facing everyone, I will. Because you’re worth it. Every risk. Every consequence. You’re mine, Sarah. And no one....not our fathers, not our brothers, will take you from me.”

I swallowed, but I felt something surge through me at that moment. I looked at Cullen’s face....his determination. He had just stood up in front of me, in front of his father and Cyrus, and I couldn’t bring myself to shut him down. I let him have this moment, even if I knew that, to stop my father, I would have to find a way. I would have to talk to him. I would have to tell him he could not hurt Cullen. I would have to go back. But for now, I let him touch me, and I touched him back, letting him believe we were in this together.

“God, fucking dammit!” Cyrus suddenly snapped, picking a vase off the table.

Then, kicking the whole table that it toppled, crashing against the far side of the room, shattering into pieces. His fury filled the room like a storm.

“Cullen, don’t do this,” Cyrus shouted, voice trembling with anger.

“I already made my decision,” Cullen said, his voice cold, unwavering.

“You will die! You really want to die for this woman? It’s not worth it! I’m giving you 24 hours. After Sullivan realizes you’re not taking his deal, not taking her back, and your father tells him that you’re no longer under Cincinnati protection, he is coming after you. I do not want to lose you, Cullen. Do not do this!”

“Thank you, Cyrus,” Cullen said calmly, almost dismissively. “I appreciate the concern, but don’t worry. I’m going to beat this. I’d rather die happy than live a life like a ghost, knowing that I lost the most important thing in my life.”

“Are you crazy?” Cyrus snapped, rage lacing every word. “Are you freaking crazy? This woman fucking kissed me, she....”

That was the last straw. Cullen let go of my hand, practically lunged toward his brother, and grabbed him by the jacket, pulling him close. The two of them stared at each other like raging bulls. Cullen’s eyes burned with fire as he shouted,

“Don’t you ever? Don’t you ever talk about my wife like that again, Cyrus!”

The room went silent for a heartbeat, the shattered vase pieces crunching beneath their feet, and I realized just how much Cullen was willing to risk for me, how far he would go to keep me safe.

“I’m trying to make you see reason,” Cyrus said, not backing down. “You will die, Cyrus. Is that what you want?”

“If that’s what’s needed, I will gladly do it,” Cullen continued, his voice steady, controlled, yet burning with something fierce.

“For all our fights, for all the hatred we’ve held silently between us, deep down, I have always loved you as a brother. I have always adored you. I wouldn’t hesitate to put my life on the line to protect you, Cyrus...but don’t you ever, ever talk about my wife like that. Do you understand?”

Cyrus didn’t answer. He merely pushed Cullen away, and Cullen let him go. Then, his voice dropped, sharp and final. “Since you’re no longer my brother, I want the two of you to get the fuck out of my house.”

I turned toward Cullen, surprised. “Cullen, you can’t do this. This is still your father and your brother.”

“I know,” he said, eyes locking onto mine. “But right now, I just want to be with you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I melted into him, into this moment, into his gaze. And then, right there, in front of his father and his brother, he pulled me close. And then he kissed me....not the polite, restrained kind of kiss you see in public or in a church. No. This was hard. Angry. Claiming. As if the entire world had disappeared and there was no one else in the room.

His grip on my wrists fell away, but I was already lost. I let my arms dangle at my sides as he cupped my face, his tongue prying my lips open. He groaned, a sound deep with weeks of pent-up frustration, as he wrestled his tongue deeper into my mouth. I didn’t object. How could I? I was already so far gone.

My body went limp against his, compliant. The prey had accepted its fate. I opened up for him like a flower, my mouth, my body spreading apart. I bloomed for him, begging for sunrays, meeting his tongue with mine, stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust. I pulled at his lower lip with my teeth, a hungry, animalistic tug, as his hands ran up and down my neck and face. He tasted sweet and restless, and I was all of those things too.

I was so drunk on our kiss that I knew I was a second away from falling flat on my ass. He grabbed the backs of my thighs, hoisting my legs up and wrapping them around his waist. I moaned a soft protest, but it was at the same time that my warm, wet part met his raging cock through our clothes.

We kissed for ten minutes straight before I realized what I was doing, grinding against his hard-on. I could practically feel my pussy lips clutching his shaft through our clothes. I pulled away and buried my face in his neck, shaking like a leaf. The kiss made me black out a little.

And then it hit me, the room we were in, his father, his brother… my hands flew to my face. “Your father… oh my God,” I whispered.

He smiled down at me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “They’re gone,” he said, calm, almost amused.

“When?” I asked, still catching my breath.

“As soon as I started kissing you,” he said, chuckling. “They picked up their things and left. Guess it did its job.”

I blinked, taken aback. “You… kissed me just to get them to leave?”