Page 40 of He Will Come for Me

I haven’t been in here yet, but it is breathtaking. There’s a chandelier in the middle of the spacious room. It’s almost like a separate room that’s been made into a closet. On the far end is a vanity, with a white and gold armchair.

On the right are lines of his shirts and pants, with racks for his shoes. On the left are my clothes that I didn’t even know were in here. He turns to me as he leans against the dresser in the middle of the closet. “I didn’t put all of your clothes in the other room. I’ve already asked Clara to begin moving those clothes in here.”

I step further into the closet as I gaze around. “This is gorgeous,” I whisper.

He walks toward me, stopping when his toes touch mine. “You designed it.”

I suck in a breath. “What?”

His hand comes up to cup my neck, his thumb running over my jaw. “You practically designed this entire house. We had an architect, but you helped with every single room.” I’m so surprised I don’t know what to say.

That has to be why everything is so comfortable, because I hated how sterile my house was growing up. Nothing was comfortable, so I practically lived in my bedroom because it was the only place I was allowed to make comfortable. I had always promised myself when I grew up and moved out I would have comfort and beauty.

“Thank you,” I whisper. He tilts his head at me. The lines next to his eyes crinkle as he gazes at me.

“For what?”

“For letting me be comfortable.” His eyes flare with understanding and familiarity. I wonder if we’ve had thisconversation before. I sigh, trying to ignore the disappointment that comes at that thought.

He turns and goes to one of the drawers on his side. Opening it, he lifts out a small black box. I lick my lips as my heart begins to beat in my ears.

Turning, he walks to me. I expect him to hand me the box, but instead he drops to his knee and opens it. I cover my mouth with my hands as I look from him to the box he’s opened.

“Will you be my wife?” he asks. Technically we’re already married, so he can’t ask me if I’ll marry him. Instead, he’s asking me to be his wife. He’s giving me a choice.

“Yes,” I whisper. He smiles and stands, taking the engagement ring and wedding band out of the box before placing them on my finger.

I’m going to marry Phoenix, who is my father’s enemy. I never expected my life to turn out like this.

Chapter 18

The flash of memory confuses me for a moment, but my attention is quickly brought back to the present as Phoenix finishes placing the rings on my finger. His fingers cup mine and he brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly as he stands. His eyes connect with mine and my stomach swarms with butterflies at the desire there.

He flips my hand so my palm is facing up. He kisses the middle of my palm before rubbing his lips up to the pulse of my wrist. My breathing picks up as his tongue flicks out and licks the sensitive spot on the inside of my wrist. Goosebumps break out on my skin.

He knows all these spots on me that respond to him so well. I need to figure out which spots on him elicits a response. Hismouth travels further up my forearm to the crook of my elbow, his eyes never leaving mine.

His pupils are dilated. I can only see a sliver of his icy blue eyes. I can’t look away as his lips continue up my bicep to my shoulder, then to the crook of my neck. A sigh, that sounds a lot like a moan, escapes as he licks the column of my neck.

I tilt my head, giving him better access as I clutch at his shirt. His other hand wraps around my waist and pulls me against him so I can feel every hard ridge of his body against mine. I fumble, trying to find the buttons of his shirt as he assaults my senses.

The need to have him right now is all-consuming. I can’t think past wanting to have his skin against mine. His hand on my waist rubs up my spine as his lips run along my jaw to my chin. I can’t control the pants of breath leaving me. His hand cups the back of my neck as he guides my mouth to his.

The moment his soft lips touch mine, I open for him and he doesn’t hesitate. His tongue invades my mouth as I release the last button of his shirt and push it off his shoulders. He yanks it off, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head.

Our mouths part for the briefest moment to allow it clearance. His mouth devours mine as he lifts me and I wrap myself around him. I expect him to sit me on the cabinet in the middle of the closet; instead, he turns and walks back into our bedroom.

He places me on the bed and walks over to the door, closing it and locking it. I lean up on my elbows as I watch him prowl toward me, like a predator that’s about to devour its prey. He stops at the edge of the bed and looks down at me.

The bulge in his pants is proof of what he wants to do next. I take in everything about him. His scuffed up hair, the quickening pulse at his neck and his sharp breathing. The definition of his abs and the V that leads to exactly what I need.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll walk out of this room,” Phoenix says. “But I need you to tell me now, because the moment I climb onthis bed, I plan on doing everything I’ve been fantasizing about since I found you.” His hands ball into fists like he’s having to force himself to stay exactly where he’s at.

I push myself up and get on my knees, kneeling before him on the bed in my leggings and bralette. I place my hands on his chest and slowly rub down his abs until I get to the button of his pants. “I don’t want to stop.”

He doesn’t move as I unbutton his pants and pull his zipper down. But when I cup him with my hand, everything happens at once. He moves my hands aside and pushes his pants down over his hips so he’s standing in front of me in black boxer briefs.

I seek out the tattoo he showed me the other day from when I gave him a hickey. A moment in time I don’t remember, but I’d like to repeat. He grabs me under my arms and lifts me, tossing me gently further back on the bed. He crawls up the bed laying between my legs and rocks his hard cock against my covered pussy.

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