Page 2 of The Wrong Husband

"I want you, babe."

Again, with that babe. I hated it when he called me that. He called all his women babe. Except Bianca. He called her Sweet Bianca.

"I want you too, Damian."

God, I was so naïve. I should've said something sexier but that's all I could get out of my mouth.

He took my dress off, the one I'd been wearing all day for work meetings. It was a beige sheath Anne Klein bought on sale that hung on my body like almost all clothes did. I didn't have curves like Bianca. I was flat…to the point that when someone did notice me like they did in high school, I went from Invisible Miss Winters to Ironing Board Miss Winters. I preferred being invisible.

He squeezed my breasts and I whimpered. His eyes glazed over. "You're so fucking responsive, Em."

"It's you," I whispered. I was so turned on that I thought I'd die.

He lay me down naked on the bed and kissed me. It was our second kiss. The first was when Elvis told us we could after we said we do.

This kiss was deep. His mouth was soft and hard at the same time. How often had I watched his mouth and wondered what it would be like to kiss him? He tasted like leather and smoke; like aged whiskey.

My nipples pebbled and my pussy got wet. I'd never kissed a man this way. I'd kissed…some guys had even groped around, but nothing had felt like this. I felt hot and cold at the same time, like a fever was burning inside me.

His hands moved over my body. "I don't know what to touch first. Tell me how you like to be touched."

I licked my lips. "I don't know," I confessed.

"What does that mean?" he asked softly.

I swallowed. "Never had sex before."

He got up then and stood at the foot of the bed staring at me. His expression was…angry. Yeah, he was furious. Was he upset that I hadn't had sex before? Well, everyone starts out a virgin. I wasn't that special. Or maybe I was too abhorrent. My inexperience was distasteful to him.

"Damian?"

He blinked. "Yeah, babe."

He started to take his suit off, all the while he looked at me like I was a puzzle he needed to put together.

When he was relieved of all his clothing, I breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to happen. He wasn't going to leave me naked and walk away. He wasn't going to reject me.

He got on the bed, his face tight like he was exerting an immense amount of control on himself.

He parted my thighs and I flinched.

His hands tightened and I knew he'd leave marks. I relished it because it told me he felt something for me, felt passion.

"Birth control?" he asked huskily. His fingers caressing my pubic curls. If I'd known I'd be getting married, I would've gotten a bikini wax, but elopement had not been on my bingo card…like ever.

"Yes, I'm good," I murmured. I had endometriosis and the doctor had recommended an I.U.D. to make my periods less painful.

He watched me as his fingers probed me. I winced. I wasn't tiny. I had used a vibrator before but there was something about his warm finger invading me. My breathing was ragged.

He pulled his finger out and brought it to his mouth. I gasped when he tasted my juices with his eyes closed. "God, Em, you taste like fucking heaven."

He called me Em. I liked that. Much, much better than babe.

"I do?" I whimpered.

He touched me again and this time, painted my lips with my juices. He crawled on top of me, nestling his erection between my thighs.

"Taste yourself, darling."

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