Page 93 of The Unplanned Wedding

I soften my gaze. "It’s also you, baby. You’re so sensitive to my touch."

"It’s us," she says slowly. "I doubt I’d have that response to anyone else."

"It’s us." I frown. She’s right. I haven’t felt this way with anyone else. It confirms to me what I felt before. What I have with my wife is singular. It’s extraordinary, really. Unequalled by any other experience in my life. The rush I got from coming inside her beats the exhilaration of my first helo jump. Andthat, is saying something.Fucking hell. I’m in love with her.I lean back in my seat.

When Arthur asked me if I loved her... I wasn’t lying when I said I did. It’s why sex with her is so unique, so different, an almost spiritual experience. It’s why I feel comfortable opening myself up to her. It’s why I know I have to be vulnerable to her. It’s why I want to share all of myself, including my proclivities, with her. Because I love her. I’ve been falling for her since the day I first saw her.

No wonder, I orchestrated events, so I’d marry her and find a way to keep her close to me. No wonder, I forgot about contraception in my need to take her. I want to bind her to me in the ultimate way possible. I subconsciously want her to have my child. Despite knowing she's using contraceptives. I want her enough to hope I’d impregnate her. I rub the back of my neck.I’m well and truly fucked.

She squirms around in her seat, then winces. “Are you okay?” I frown.

Her cheeks flush. “Uh, I’m sore.”

“Sore?” Worry squeezes my chest. My guts churn. “Was I too rough with you? Did I not give you enough time to recover? I should have waited, before I fucked you again.”

“What? No. What are you talking about? I wanted you to fuck me.”

“And I listened to you; I shouldn’t have.”

I lean forward and survey her features. Flushed cheeks, over-bright eyes, and there are shadows under them too. Also, her cheekbones seem pronounced. “You seem tired. Did you sleep enough last night.?”

She hesitates. “I didn’t, but I’m sure I’ll make up for it over the next few nights."

“Don’t count on it,” I drawl.

She flushes, then laughs. And when her features light up and her eyes dance, I feel my heart stutter. That sensation in my chest grows bigger until it fills my torso and spreads to my extremities. I feel light and happy and exhilarated. I also feel... nervous. I’m in so much trouble.

I tear my gaze away from her face, refill her glass with water and slide it toward her. “Drink,” I order.

She obeys, and satisfaction squeezes my chest. My blood begins to pump harder. The crotch of my pants tightens further. I berate my cock.How can I be only thinking of myself right now?

It’s my fault she didn’t get enough rest. My fault that I took her so quickly after her first time. What is wrong with me? I should have realized my needs, my kinks, my overblown sexual appetites would be too much for her. She’s a delicate angel. And me? I don’t deserve her. This is what I was afraid of—that I’d make demands and she‘d never say no. She’s a novice who’s discovered her taste for kink, thanks to me. I’ve sullied her, as I knew I would. The fact that I’m in love with her has complicated things.

I thought I didn’t need to hold back with her, but given how I took heragain, when she was sore, and so soon after losing her virginity, proves otherwise. I should have stopped and given her space to recover but I didn’t. I saw her wince and should have pulled back. Instead, I allowed my dick to lead me. That, and the fact I listened to her, shows me how wrong I am. She doesn’t know what she wants. It’s my job to protect her, even if it’s from me. Because when it comes down to it, nothing changes the fact that she’s this delicate angel, and I'm a beast who can only destroy her.

"Knox?” Her sweet voice interrupts my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“You’re not eating enough,” I shoot back.

A line forms between her eyebrows. “What is it with you and food?” She tosses her head.” Every time I turn around, you’re trying to feed me.”

“You’re losing weight." I frown.

“Good,” she huffs.

“It’s not good. I like your curves the way they are, and don’t want to see you withering away.”

“Withering away?” She rolls her eyes, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.” The anger lurches against the walls of my stomach. The burn extends from there to my chest, to the backs of my eyes.I can’t do this. I can’t besmirch her. I can’t dirty her. I can’t control myself around her... Certainly not, when we’re away in this romantic getaway, on our honeymoon. I need to get us back to London where I can hide behind the guise of work, at least.

She must sense my thoughts, for she leans forward and touches my hand. I pull it away. Hurt flashes in her eyes, and that makes me feel worse.Fucking hell, I have no tact. None at all. I’m not worthy of her. And if I value her in any way, if I want to stick to my marital vows of protecting her, I need to put distance between us.

"Everything okay?" She frowns.

“It will be.”I’mgoing to make sure it’s okay. "Eat up; we need to get going."

39

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