Page 43 of The Unwanted Wife

He shakes his head. “Oh, I want to, but I can’t. You’re Ben’s little sister. I can’t betray him.”

I roll my eyes. “I am also my own person. And once we’re married?—”

“It’s not a real marriage.”

“It’s a real marriage when it suits you, not otherwise. Typical,” I burst out.

“Starling, I—” he begins, but I hold up a hand.

“You won’t make love to me, even when we’re married?”

“Not even then,” he says softly.

I tilt my head. “But it’s okay if I make you come?”

His gaze narrows. I can sense the thoughts whirring behind his eyes, which widen when I sink to my knees.

21

Nathan

What the—? One moment, she’s accusing me of not wanting her; the next, she’s on her knees. And before I can protest, she reaches for my belt and undoes it. For someone who relied on his wits to save his life, I seem to have lost my edge. Before I can react, she lowers my zipper. My cock springs free. Her eyes go so round, it’s clear she must have been expecting me to wear boxers—which I’ve stopped doing, since I’ve needed easy access to my dick to jerk off during the day in my attempt to get some relief from the aching hard-on which has refused to go down since I saw her across the counter at her bakery. Not that I’m going to tell her that.

She stares at my length, and I feel myself extend. Feel the blood drain to my groin. Feel my thighs grow rock hard and have to widen my stance to accommodate my arousal. She gulps. My cock twitches and grows even longer.

“Oh, my god, you… You’re so big.”

Her half-fearful, half-lusty tone serves to make me even harder, if that’s possible. I feel the veins in my shaft throb. Pre-cum oozes from the crown, and she flicks out her tongue and touches her lower lip. A-n-d, that’s it. All my good intentions go out the window. I’ve wanted her for so long, and she’s here on her knees and staring at my dick like she’s both terrified of it but also wants to lock her lips around it. “What are you waiting for?”

“Wh-what?” she manages to choke out.

“You going to look at it, or are you going to do something about it?”

“I… Uh, I’m not sure,” she confesses. The vulnerability in her voice, combined with the uncertainty on her features brings out the protectiveness in me.

I scan her wide-eyed gaze, her parted lips, the blush on her cheeks, which extends to her neck, and what I can see on her décolletage and— No, it can’t be. I try to temper my tone, so I won’t scare her away. “Are you a virgin?”

“What?” She jerks her chin up. “What gives you that idea?”

The fact that she asked me a question in response to mine? Fuck. “Oh. No… This is not happening.”

I take a step back, begin to tuck myself back in, but she leans forward, brushes my fingers aside, and wrapping her fingers around the girth of my cock, closes her lips around the head. Wetness, heat, and the suction of her too small mouth around my shaft send a jolt of awareness screaming up my spine. My legs tremble, and my vision blurs. Once more, my reflexes abandon me. All I can do is groan as she begins to lick around the rim of the crown. I take in her fingers that don’t meet around the girth of my dick, the way she licks down the length, only to retrace her steps back to the crown, and when my cock disappears inside her mouth again, my entire body trembles. “Jesus Christ, woman, you’re killing me.”

She looks up at me, and her eyes gleam. All hesitation is gone from her features. The uncertainty is replaced by a stubbornness I noticed the first time I met her. She brings her other hand up to cup my balls, and a growl rumbles up my chest.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” I bite out.

In response, she tilts her head and manages to take my dick down her throat. She promptly chokes. Drool slides down her chin. The sucking sensation zips down to my toes and ricochets up to my brain, which communicates to me this is a very good idea.

With my last remnants of sanity, I dig my fingers into her hair and tug her head back, so I have an unrestricted view of her eyes. “This changes nothing,” I warn.

In response, she rolls her eyes, but it’s so quick, I can’t be sure. Then, she massages my balls and f-u-c-k, all thoughts drain from my head. All my attention is focused on her hands, her mouth, where we’re connected, where she holds my life in her hands. Maybe I looked down the barrel of the gun of the last enemy soldier and managed to shoot him first. Maybe I was fighting for survival then, but it didn’t feel as intense, as real, as on the knife’s edge of something momentous, as the way it does to look into her eyes and see the resolve, the need, and the desire to please. It’s the last that pushes me over the edge.

“If we’re doing this, then it’s my way, you understand?”

She nods, indicating she hears me, but it’s not enough.

“Tap my thigh anytime you want me to stop.”

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