The living room is as breathtakingly beautiful as the rest of the house, all plush fabrics and gleaming surfaces that speak of wealth and taste. I make my way to the nearest couch, ready to sink into its inviting cushions, but before I can even sit down, Nickolas sweeps me up into his arms and deposits me on his lap.

“Whenever we’re together, this is where you sit,” he murmurs, adjusting me on his thighs, his arm wrapping securely around my waist, his hand splaying possessively over my ...