The Unwanted Marriage (The Windsors, #3)

I sink down to my knees in front of him and grab his face, tears burning in my eyes. “Only if you’ll let me prove to you that you’re all I want, that I’ll choose you no matter what, that I’ll stay when things get rough, and that I’ll trust you even when my fears and upbringing attempt to rule me. I’ll marry you all over again if you let me show you just how easy you are to love, how honored and lucky I am to be your wife.”


His forehead drops to mine, and he draws a shaky breath. “I will,” he promises. “It isn’t always easy for me to believe that you love me the way you say you do, but I’m willing to work on being better as a couple, and as a person. There’s no one I’d rather walk this path with, Faye. Only you.”

I grin at him as a tear runs down my face. “Then… yes. Yes, Dion. I’ll marry you a thousand times over.”

His hands shake so hard that he nearly drops the ring, and we both laugh, this moment feeling so very real, so very perfect. I stare at the antique diamond, deep gratitude settling deep in my chest. I won’t let you down, I silently promise the previous bearer. We’re not quite where we want to be, but we’re healing every day, and whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Just like you intended us to.

Dion cups my face and kisses me tenderly underneath the moonlight, stars twinkling above us. My hand wraps into his hair, and he chuckles when I push him onto his back.

“This resort… did you book it out?”

He lies back in the sand, messing up his neat shirt and trousers. I’ve never seen him look so relaxed before. “Yes. There’s no one here. It’s just us.”

I grin at him as I begin to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Then let me show you what I wanted to do that night I spilled champagne all over your chest.” His gaze darkens when his shirt falls open, and I lean in, softly kissing his abs. He instantly hardens underneath me, and pure pleasure blooms in my chest. “Let me show you how much I love being your wife.”

Dion moans when I leave a trail of kisses down his torso, his hand wrapping in my hair when I place my hand on his belt. “You’re driving me insane,” he whispers. “I’ll never get enough of you, you know that? For the rest of our lives, I’ll want you the way I do tonight. You’re the one for me, Faye Windsor.”

I smile at him as I free his cock, enjoying the way I’ve got him lying in the sand, moonlight shining down on us. “I love you,” I tell him as his hands tug at my clothes, until he’s got me straddling him naked. The way he looks at me will never get old. No one has ever made me feel the way he does — it’s like I’m his biggest dream come alive. “I will always love you, Dion.”

“Fuck,” he groans when I line him up against me and slowly take him in deep, until I’m seated fully on top of him. “Look at the way you’re taking my cock, baby. You’re so good at this, aren’t you?”

I blush as I begin to ride him, enjoying the way his gaze roams over my body. He always looks so pleased, so proud. No one has ever made me feel as empowered as Dion does — even in the little moments.

His hands wrap around my waist, and he begins to move with me, taking me hard even though I’m the one on top. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he murmurs. “Taking your husband’s cock in the moonlight like that.” I moan when he moves one hand between us and strokes my clit, making his thumb brush past it with every move. “You’ll come for me, won’t you?”

I nod when his movements become rougher, deeper, faster. “Please.”

He smirks, his gaze caressing my body. I’ve never felt so beautiful, so wanted. Not even in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find myself riding Dion Windsor, the two of us hopelessly in love with each other. We shouldn’t work — I love to travel, and he hates to fly. I play the piano, and the sound of it brings forth his worst fears. I can’t stand being controlled, and it’s in his nature to be domineering. We don’t fit together, yet we’re perfect together because we’ve made it so, because we’re willing to work on us.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Faye,” he moans. “Tell me you’re mine, baby. Say the words, and I’ll make you come.”

I bite down on my lip, intent on making him wait for it, and he grins as he swipes his thumb over my clit. “I’m yours,” I moan, desperately.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “And I’m yours, so take from me what you need.”

I ride him harder, and he keeps his thumb perfectly positioned to push me closer to the edge with each tilt of my hips. “Yes,” I moan, unable to take it.

He looks like he’s enchanted as I unravel, my muscles contracting around him, over and over again. “Fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, before turning us over. My body hits the sand, and he grins as he leans in, his lips brushing over my lips. “Now give me one more.”





Chapter Sixty-Seven





Dion



“This was the perfect place to propose,” Mom says, smiling at me as we walk on the beach. I grin back at her, but part of me is scared of what will probably follow. Each time I think she’s saying something sweet, she’ll follow it up with something that makes me realize I got it all wrong. It’s been that way for years, and though I know this is nothing but a dream, I suspect it won’t change.

“You haven’t had it easy, Dion, but you’ve endured so well. I’m proud of you, you know? I know mothers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but you were mine. My little boy who loved the piano as much as I did, the only one of my kids that’d sacrifice playing with your toys so you could play the piano with me instead. You have no idea how much I appreciated every single one of those moments, honey. You grew up so fast, and I’m grateful for every moment I got with you. I’m even more grateful that you finally let go of guilt that was never yours to hold. Do you really think I’d have missed your first big performance? I never would have. Not in a million years. Asking me to come back sooner didn’t change my plans. Instead of focusing so much on the crash, did you ever wonder if there was a flight plan we were meant to be on instead? You were not to blame, my sweet boy.”

I stare at her in disbelief and reach for her. This dream feels different somehow, almost like she’s really here with me this time. Maybe it’s the therapy Faye and I have been subjecting ourselves to, but this feels like more.

“I love you, Dion. I’m glad you’ve finally learned to love yourself, too. Faye is good for you, better than I ever could’ve hoped for. I’ve watched over the both of you every step of the way, honey, and watching you grow toward each other and make a conscious choice to heal, to free yourselves from the past in favor of the future you could have together… oh, my darling boy, you have no idea how proud you’ve made me. The person you’ve become despite everything is one I’m in awe of.”

She reaches for me and rises to her tiptoes to brush a soft kiss to my forehead. “Be happy, Dion. For my sake and Faye’s, but most importantly, your own. Be happy, because you deserve to be. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. I love you, my sweet boy. I always will.”

She takes a step back, and I panic as she begins to fade, until I’m standing on the beach all alone. “Mom?”





“Dion?” I’m startled awake and instantly reach for my wife, pulling her onto the sofa with me. She giggles and presses her face against my neck. “You fell asleep. Did I really take that long to get ready?”

I hold her tighter as a perfume I recognize wafts over me. Mom’s. That’s impossible. I lean in and breathe Faye in, but it isn’t her.

“Dion, are you okay?” my wife asks, propping herself up on my chest to look me over. “You look a little pale.”

I gently thread a hand through her crimson hair and take a steadying breath. “I dreamt of my mother,” I admit. “In every dream I’ve had of her over the years, there’s one sentence I wanted her to say, and she never did. Not until today.”

“Yeah?” she murmurs, a sweet smile on her face.

“Faye, she told me she loved me.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, and then her arms wrap around me. She hugs me tightly, and I nearly lose it there and then. Faye knows all about my dreams, and all the things my mom used to tell me in them. She understands how significant it is for me to hear her say that she’s proud of me, that I deserve to be happy, and that she doesn’t blame me.

I gently pat her hair, the gesture as soothing to me as it to her. “We need to go,” I murmur reluctantly. “We’ll be late for family dinner, and you know how Grandma gets.”

She nods and pushes off me before offering her hand. I grin as I take it, a tinge of unease running down my spine. There’s something Mom said that I can’t shake, and I can’t stop thinking about it on the walk to Grandma’s house.

Moments before we walk in, I decide to text Silas to ask whether he can find any old flight plans for my parents to indicate they rushed home.

“Everything okay?” Faye asks as we walk into the dining room.

I nod and squeeze her hand as I lead her to our seats. “Perfect,” I murmur, and it truly is. Our marriage was great before, but it improved by leaps and bounds once we made a conscious effort to heal past trauma and some of our dysfunctional thinking. I didn’t think things between us could get any better, but somehow, they did. I’ve never felt closer to her.

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