Page 18 of Risky Vows

Despite what he said, I'm far from safe with him.

Fuck.

This would all be so much easier if he were a foot shorter, a hundred pounds heavier, and had a face that didn't awaken every part of me.

I hear the door open and suck in a breath. Even though the light is off, the moon casts a glow over the carpet. I should’ve shut the balcony curtains. Still, it's not like it's bright or anything. If I look his way, I’ll see an outline but nothing specific. So he can't see me completely. Good.

I pretend to be asleep, which is silly. It isn't wise to close my eyes when I can't see him. Tingles of awareness run up and down my body, and an uncomfortable ache settles between my thighs. I hear him place his phone on the nightstand, then a swish of clothes and the lightest thump on the carpet.

Did he just take off his sweatpants?

My heart jumps like it's in a Cirque du Soleil act.

Amara, please get a grip.A lot rides on my ability to stay focused. If every hormone is hooked on the man with the power to destroy everything, I'm in serious trouble.

Though, the devil on my shoulder chimes in.He's your husband. How strange would it be not to fulfill your wifely duties?

The mattress sags with his weight. I tense, anticipation thrumming in my veins. He scoots closer, and I inhale his scent. Oh, God. His breath teases my neck, along with his nearnessand the warmth of his skin. I'm bound to this attraction with an invisible handcuff.

"What are we wearing tonight, rat?" He touches my sleep shirt, fingers caressing the hem above my knees as if studying its length. "No pajama bottoms?"

"Not tonight. They're dirty."

"Dirty. A word I live by," he says, flipping me onto my back. "Do you like to get dirty?"

"Sometimes," I hiss.Wrong answer.

"Look at you… No pajama pants and a glimmer of hope. Improvement."

He reaches for my buttons. After he undoes the first one, he groans and holds both sides of the sleep shirt, tugging them away from each other. The buttons fly through the air, and I moan, surprised. He's not patient.

That brutish behavior would have baffled me at a different time. Now, it only adds to the excitement building inside me.

My nipples are tight, the buzz of lust humming within me. He pulls off the sleep shirt and removes my underwear. When he covers my body with his, I shiver. He's hard and naked, as I suspected.

He picks up my hand and lowers it to his chest. "Touch me, my sexy masseuse. Show me what your hands can do."

Fuck. I'm so turned on that my core is a big ball of fire, exploding and simmering in my bloodstream. He places my palm over his nipple, and I audibly inhale, the sound cutting through the room.

I span my palm over his nipple, the metal rubbing my skin. He's so taut and strong. I tug at the ring, and even though I can't see him, I make out a smile spreading across his face in the dark.

I do the same with the other one, but this time, I slide my pinky into the ring and pull it. He growls, the sound reverberating through me. God, he's so sexy.

I venture my hands lower, brushing his insane abs, muscles carved in place. When I find his cock, it's large and pulses like a wild beast that can't be tamed.

I palm it, the skin warm, the underside veins jumping like they're greeting me. I run my fingers over it, and excitement doubles down, shooting up my wrist and arm. I play with his thick head, tracing the jewel, and earn a groan from him. Hmmm…

I truly enjoy this exploration. Knowing it sends him over the edge arouses me and adds an extra spice. I stroke him up and down. I can't see his facial expression vividly, but the outline of his face, his closed eyes, and the tilt of his head tells me he enjoys what I'm doing.

"That's it, rat," he whispers, switching us around so I'm on top of him. He pushes me until his head is buried between my thighs. "Time to taste your sweet cunt again."

A rush of adrenaline bolts through me.

He laps the flat of his tongue at my pussy, getting down to business as I take his cock in my mouth. Or most of it. He's big, warm, and delicious. I suck him, swirling my tongue around it lazily, eager to explore every inch of him.

He releases a groan of pleasure, the sign I need to know I'm doing it right. His head is nestled between my thighs, and he pushes his tongue into me as far as it will go, his hands anchoring my legs as zings of hot energy surge through me.

"Yes," I say, then moan. Fully aware I shouldn't, but I can no longer pretend. He's driving me crazy. "Yes."

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