Wedding Vow of Revenge - Page 43

“Not just a lover. You are my wife.”

She smiled. “Yes. Your wife.”

She pulled his wrists together and tied them, securing it with a bow. It would be very easy for him to undo it, but the illusion of his helplessness was more exciting than anything she’d ever done. Because it was accompanied by a very real faith in her.

She gently turned him back around and finished taking off his clothes. When she was done, she looked her fill at the incredible male perfection before her.

“The other night…”

“Yes?”

“You said if I kissed you there…” She nodded toward his erection. “You would lose control and come inside me.”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you tonight?”

“Yes.” This time the word came out more a growl and the hard male flesh in front of her bobbed its agreement.

She dropped to her knees and began her exploration with her fingertips. Velvet encased steel. There was no other description that she could think of for how it felt in her hands. She curled her fingers around him, caressed the full length and he groaned.

“Does that feel good?”

“You know it does.”

“For me, too.”

“I’m glad.”

She nodded and then leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the very tip. He smelled so good, she nuzzled him, inhaling a fragrance unique to him that affected her every bit as powerfully as his earlier caressing had.

Then she tasted him and he made a noise like a bitten back shout. She wanted to hear him really shout and set about making that happen, using her hands and lips and tongue. His body shuddered and he tilted his pelvis toward her, making his need more than clear.

“You have to stop,” he said in a hoarse voice that told her more about how much he’d been holding back than anything else.

She tilted her head back and looked up his beautiful body to his face. Sweat had broken out on his brow and the flush of arousal had darkened his skin.

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

His arms moved and then the sound of a silk bow tie whispering to the carpet could be heard. “I will have to make you.”

She would have grinned, but she was too excited and her mouth was too busy trying to suck in much needed oxygen. He understood her game exactly.

He had trusted her enough to give her control and put him in a pseudo-submissive position, but he was also strong enough to take charge when she needed him to.

“Come up here.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“My legs won’t hold me,” she admitted, knowing the only reason she was upright was because she was kneeling.

She felt dizzy even in this position.

He reached down and lifted her under her arms, his big hands clasped around her ribs. He lifted her all the way until their mouths were parallel and then he kissed her.

She curled her arms around his head and tried not to faint from a wave of love so profound, she almost drowned under it.

This man was perfect for her in every way. Of course she loved him and it would be okay. He was worthy of her love.

He laid her on the bed and removed the pretty white underthings she’d worn just for him.

When she told him so in a husky voice unrecognizable to her, he smiled.

“You’re welcome to wear them again, but tonight, I don’t want anything between us, even provocative bits of lace.”

She agreed. She wanted nothing between them, either, not even the barrier of unspoken love, but that was one thing she could not remove.

She’d gone that route before, admitting her love and leaving herself vulnerable. She was married to this man. She had all the time she needed to show him it was safe to love her, too, that she wouldn’t leave him voluntarily like his mother had done or involuntarily like his father had done.

He made love to her then, starting off gently, but rapidly moving to a passion and urgency that left her sated and exhausted in the middle of the huge king-size bed.

Afterward, he wrapped himself around her and they slept in each other’s arms, only to awaken twice more in the night to make love again.

Angelo woke to the smell of coffee and the yeasty aroma of cinnamon rolls. He stretched, feeling more depleted than he ever had from the toughest Aikido session. Remembered pleasure made him groan as he opened his eyes, looking for his new wife.

Tara smiled at him from where she was lifting silver lids from the dishes on a room service cart. “I ordered breakfast.”

“It smells delicious.”

“I thought after last night that we both could do with sustenance.”

“Wore you out, did I?”

“You made me hungry anyway.” She winked saucily and he was reminded of her surprising friskiness the night before.

Tags: Lucy Monroe Billionaire Romance
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