Page 184 of The Christmas Wife

"It was nothing," I mumble. Why the hell had that popped out? Hadn't meant to blurt that out.

She looks away, then back at me. "What else?" she asks, her voice an octave lower than earlier. That's good. I am on the right track...Go on, motherfucker, lay it out. It's now or never, you loser.

"Because every time I see you, I can't see a way around fucking you, giving it to you until you're a whimpering gooey mess in my arms?"

"Oh!" She trembles. "Keep going," she says, her voice breathy.

I turn her palm face up in mine, bend and lick the skin between her fingers.

She shudders.

I drag my tongue down to her fingertip and kiss it.

"Because we're going to fuck right now in this pool, then on the decking, in the living room, in my bed, on the bloody kitchen island...on every surface in my home, and when the sun comes up tomorrow, we'll know every nook," kiss, "cranny," kiss, "crevasse of each other's bodies."

She makes a humming sound deep in her throat.

"You like that hmm?" I smirk.

"Much better," She agrees. "You're getting the hang of it, Mr. Alpha Claus, but it's not enough."

"You're right," I agree.

"I am?" She frowns.

"I haven't told you yet, how I'm going to walk you places, my Buttercup, up the aisle, into each day of our future lives...ease you into bed every night, wake you up with my tongue inside your melting pussy every morn?—"

She chokes out a laugh, "And you were doing so well."

"Right?" I grimace, "I can't help myself, my sweet Cookie. When I see you, I lose sight of myself. When I scent you, I ache to be inside of you. And when I see you in pain," I swallow, "I want to turn the world upside down until I soothe it all away."

"Oh," she stutters, "that...that was romantic."

"I'm not done yet."

"No?"

"Not even remotely." I allow my lips to curve, mirror the happiness that filters through her gaze, "I'll take care of you, I’ll love you, shield you from the elements, ease obstructions from your path?—"

She frowns.

"Because that would be my prerogative." I declare.

"If that's not what I want?"

"We could discuss it," I say slowly.

"We could?"

"Perhaps."

Her forehead creases and she tugs on her hand again. My heart rate gallops. "I won't do anything you don't want me to," I add.

"Hmm."

"I promise." I hold up my right palm, "We can fight over it, then kiss and have hot make-up sex."

"As long as you don't steamroll me into agreeing." She frowns.

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