Page 209 of Charming Deception

That’s probably the only reason he’s not naked yet.

Our eyes meet, and a shock of awareness runs down my spine.

Mine, that look seems to say.

God, I adore him.

I miss him, too, and I know he misses me. I’ve been so busy lately. Not only with prewedding preparations, but I’ve found myself so inspired, I’m finally writing my final Wolf-and-Rowan book.

With a happy ending.

Jameson’s expression relays not only how much he misses me, but how hungry he is for me.

I’m sure mine relays how damn hot I feel in what I’m wearing for him. I see that he agrees when his gaze rakes down my body.

The lingerie is white, and there’s not much of it. The sheer bra has tiny bows above my nipples. The matching panties have a tiny bow above my clit.

My husband spreads his thighs and adjusts his hips as he takes me in. His cock hardens, straining inside his slacks.

I know how much he loves it when he gets to undress me himself, or watch me undress.

“You look fucking gorgeous.” His voice is rough with longing, sending a thrill through me. “Come here, baby. I want my wife.”

But I don’t go to him.

As he drinks me in, I slip a finger over the central seam of the right bra cup. It runs down from the little bow, right over my nipple, and as I touch it, the seam parts, exposing my nipple.

Jameson’s eyes darken with lust.

I do the same to the panties, sliding my finger from the little bow down the central seam a bit, parting it to give him a glimpse of my pink flesh.

His cock flexes hungrily, drawing my attention.

My hands fall away, ending the little peep show as I walk toward him.

Even at this distance, he worships my body, like I’m offering him a gift and he’s savoring it. My breasts jiggle with each step, the sheer bra hiding little more than nothing and offering little support. The panties are pretty much a wisp of floss.

And knowing those easy-access slits are there, even though they’ve slipped closed… I know I’m being a tease.

I love to stoke Jameson’s desire until he’s ravenous for me.

He lets me get away with it, just a little bit.

He reaches for me as I get close, but I hold back, just out of reach. “No touching the bride until the official honeymoon,” I tease.

“You better be fucking kidding me.”

I laugh. When I drift closer, he grabs me by the waist and the ass and drags me between his legs.

“I’ll have you know I didn’t wear this under my dress all day,” I say sweetly, my fingertips walking up his tie. “I think my groom should get something special, just for him, on our wedding night.”

I wrap his tie around my hand, pulling him toward me even as I lean into him, sliding a knee onto the bed beside him.

“I hope you like the peekaboo vibe…” I kiss him, lightly. He growls softly, warningly, and my lips tease his. “My dress was so classic and elegant. Fit for your queen. I love it when you call me your good girl. And I wanted to be your queen on our wedding day.”

“You are my queen.”

I kiss him again, deeper this time, my tongue lapping luxuriously against his as desire rises through me, hot and intoxicating. His taste. His masculine scent…

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