Page 98 of The Unplanned Wedding

"I didn’t say that."

"If that wasn’t the case, why are you complaining?"

"Because…" I move around him in a circle, leaving enough space between us that he can’t touch me…yet. He continues to turn with me, so it feels like he’s in the center and I’m circling an orbit around him. He’s the sun and I’m but a planet imprisoned by his gravitational pull. There’s an illusion of freedom, in that I have my own orbit, but my path revolves around him. My life is him. I am him. The realization strikes me to the core. I falter. He jumps forward, arm out to righten me, but I find my balance again.

"You okay?" There’s worry in his eyes.

"I’m not a weakling, Sir."

His eyes flash again. No doubt, it’s in response to my using ‘Sir’. It’s one of the levers at my disposal. It’s how I know he doesn't hold all the power in this relationship, either. That I can manipulate him, too... Not always, but sometimes. Like right now, when I need him to fuck me like I’m not just his wife but also his submissive.

"And you haven't caught me yet.” I continue to wind my way around the room, moving to the other side of the table.

“Is that a challenge?” His chest seems to increase in size. His shoulders swell. He senses the thrill of the chase, and the predator in him can’t help but feel called to give chase.

“Me, challenge you, Sir?” I flutter my eyelashes at him. I'm trying to be cute in the hope of riling him further. And I realize I’ve succeeded whenhis nostrils flare. He comes to a halt, and we eye each other across the width of the conference room table.

Then, because I have nothing to lose and because I really want to know, I ask, "Why did you cut short the honeymoon and return to London?"

"It was for an important meeting.”

"Oh." It’s almost an anticlimax that he tells me the truth without my having to coerce it out of him.

"In fact, we have another meeting coming up tonight.” There’s a look on his face I can’t interpret.

“We?” I knit my eyebrows.

“You'll want to come to this one.” He nods.

"Oh?" I cast my mind over what it could possibly be for. "I don’t have anything on for this evening, and I don’t recall putting any appointments in your calendar, either."

"It’s not to do with the office."

"It's not?"

He shakes his head, slowly walking around the table. He approaches me without making any sudden moves, his gait casual. He’s trying to look as benign as possible, which has about the same effect as a panther trying to fade into the undergrowth; meaning, he only succeeds in appearing more threatening.

"Stop." I throw up my hand.

I'm not surprised when he keeps coming.

"Don’t come closer."

He bares his teeth. "You don’t tell me what to do." Then, he swoops down on me.

I scream, then turn and dash forward, only to be yanked back when his big hands grab my waist. "Let me go!"

"No." He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, and flips me around, before plopping me onto the table. Before I can protest, he’s planted himself between my legs. His movements are so confident, so dominant, a shiver squeezes my lower belly. He’s so large, I’m forced to pry my legs wide apart. He grips the sides of my skirt-clad thighs and leans in. "Where were we?"

"I… I was trying to leave."

"And I chased you and caught you. You’re mine now."

His bossy voice sends another shudder up my spine. I’m so turned on, I can feel moisture trickle out from my slit. And the possessiveness in his voice? Oh my god. I seem to be burning up from the inside. "Sir, please…" My voice emerges all breathy, and I sound as if I’m pleading. Only, I’m not sure what I want from him. The fact that he’s holding me under his firm grasp makes me feel like he’s controlling me, and I love it. I do. It also makes me want to push back a little. To test him. To see if I can be bratty enough that he’ll want to punish me further. So, I reach down between his legs and grasp the tented fabric at his crotch.

His eyes snap blue fire. His lips curl in a snarl. Tension spools off of his body and saturates the air between us. It pushes down on my chest, and I feel faint with need.

“M-may I, Sir?”

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