Faye Vaughn cried out, "Wyatt Hawthorne, are you even human..."
Annoyed by her shouting, Wyatt fiercely sealed her lips.
This time, he gave her no chance to struggle or scream. His kiss was an all-out assault, as tempestuous as a sudden storm.
Faye's cheeks burned, flushing an even deeper red. Her nails dug into the firm muscles of his back.
Wyatt paid no mind to her cat-like struggles. Seeing her gasping for breath, her face and ears flushed, he mocked her in a low, husky voice, "Weren't you sick of me? You certainly don't look sick of me now."
Faye shot back, "I'd have the same reaction no matter who the man was."
Wyatt bit down viciously on her soft lip. "Such a soft mouth. Can't it say something I'd like to hear?"
Faye dodged, turning her head and flashing a fake smile. "What would you like to hear? 'Oh, I love you so much, Mr. Hawthorne.' Even if you have a hundred women, even if you take seventeen or eighteen wives, I'll still be super in love with you."
