Page 94 of One Wealthy Wedding

He brushes the hair off my neck and presses his lips to my pulse. “Here?”

I shiver. His lips are soft, and his stubble scrapes in a way that is so unbearably male. “Too visible.” My voice sounds high and reedy.

His mouth moves to the top of my breast.

Oh, right there. Lower, please. I’m on fire for him, need pooling in my stomach, sparks lighting under my skin every time he kisses me.

“Higher,” I gasp.

His warm mouth lands right above my collarbone. He sucks lightly.

“Theo,” I exclaim. “Not like that.”

“Walk me through it again.” His voice is taunting.

“Harder.”

He sucks harder, and the sensation goes straight to my nipples, and then lower, zinging down my stomach to land between my legs.

“Harder, Theo.”

“I don’t want to break the skin.” His tongue swirls, hot and wet, and fuck, I’m so turned on that I can feel my shorts getting damp.

“Stop messing around,” I say.

“I’m just trying to give you a hickey properly,” he teases. “Come on, Cat. Are you not committed to our marriage?”

“I hate you.”

“Doesn’t feel like you hate me.” He bites at the spot. “You’re arching against me like you want more than a hickey.”

I am. Oh god. I didn’t even realize I was writhing under him.

“I was not. Are you done?”

He laughs and rolls off me, breathing hard. “It’s too bad you despise me, Catherine, because you turn me on more than anyone ever has.”

I don’t know what to say, because I don’t hate Theo. Not anymore. Not with the way he’s been nothing but good and kind while I’ve stayed here.

“All right, now get out so I can have some private time before I have to go downstairs. Unless you want to join me?”

I scramble off the bed.

“Thought not,” he laughs.

If only he knew how very wrong he is.

Theo’s mom is like a mom from a movie. She’s a mom who always remembers to bring cupcakes to school on your birthday or lets you buy the jeans all the popular girls are wearing. She’s the mom who calls you when you’re out too late, but because she’s worried, not because she wants to yell at you. I love her more than anyone, and I feel so unbearably guilty that I stopped talking to her, and even worse because she’s not mad at me for it.

She squeezes my arm as we sit in the living room.

“I’m so happy you and Theo found each other.”

“You are?” I try to hide my surprise as I blow on my coffee. I’m jittery with nerves, but I need something to do with my hands, so coffee it is.

“Oh, yes. I always knew you were right for him. The way you used to follow him around, like a baby chick.” She shakes her head. “Even at five years old, you were obsessed with him.”

I wince.

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