Page 19 of Sweet Conviction

I reach for her, dragging her onto my lap. Despite her fear, she comes willingly, melting against my chest. I tip her chin up and slowly, deliberately meet her amber gaze.

"I'm not going to regret you, Tempest. Not now, not ever. You're mine. It's as simple as that." I seal my vow with a deep, bruising kiss, trying to pour every ounce of certainty and need into it. "Trust that. Trust me."

She studies my face for a long moment and then nods. "I'm trying," she whispers. "I just…"

"I know." I rub circles into her thighs below the hem of her skirt. "We can work up whatever contract you want to work up about the company. Whatever verbiage you want. Date it for yesterday or the day before or last month. I don't care. I didn't marry you for your company."

"Then why?" Her teeth sink into her soft bottom lip, her eyes flickering across my face again. "I don't understand you, Dalton."

"I married you for you, Tempest. I married you because I want you. I meant every word I said in your hotel." I brush my nose along hers. "I want every fucking inch of you. Every piece. Everygoddamn thought. All of you. You've got me all twisted up in knots, wife."

She trembles when I say the word, so I press my lips to her ear.

"Wife," I whisper, nipping the shell of it. "My wife."

"Dalton," she moans. "Please."

Fuck.

There's that sound—the one that says she needs to come.

I slide my hands up her thighs, slowly inching the fabric up her gorgeous golden-brown skin.

"Dalton," she gasps, her eyes darting to the privacy screen. "The driver."

"Fuck the driver," I growl, palming her thick thighs possessively. "My wife needs to come. I'm going to make her."

I hold her gaze, silently daring her to stop me as I push her skirt higher, exposing her lacy black panties.

She says nothing, her eyes locked on my face, pupils dilated with need. I spread my legs on the seat, forcing hers further apart. Christ. I'm glad I waited for her. Exploring sex with her, discoveringherfor the first time…she was fucking worth the wait.

I keep my eyes locked with hers as I slip her panties to the side, groaning when I feel how fucking wet she is for me. "You're already soaked for me, Tempest. You love this, don't you?"

She bites her lip hard, fighting a whimper as I slowly circle her clit. It's intense, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills—her refusing to make a sound or admit she's loving this as I tease her tight little hole.

Her lips part, rapid breaths escaping, but she still doesn't make a sound. Yet.

I slide two fingers inside her, feeling her walls pulse and flutter around me. She rocks against my hand desperately, trying to take me deeper.

"That's it," I murmur. "Take what you need. Ride my fingers until you fall apart."

The sight of her—cheeks flushed, tits bouncing, juices dripping down my wrist —nearly sends me over the fucking edge. I grit my teeth, hanging on through sheer force of will alone. I won't be satisfied until I hear her crying out my name as she comes undone for me.

I press my thumb to her clit, and she jerks, a little whimper escaping.

Fuck.There it is.

I rub harder, her wetness squelching obscenely in the confines of the limo.

"Let me hear you, Tempest. Let me hear everything."

She shakes her head, denying me. Fighting me.

I curl my fingers inside her, seeking that magic spot.

She thrashes when I find it, her mouth opening in a silent scream.

"Come for me, wife. Now."

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