Page 55 of Misguided Vows

“I’m sure anyone who loves you would never forget you, Alina.” I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words. Besides my mother, who would truly miss me? Who have I let close enough to care if I went missing?

“Thank you, Will.” He nods, and we fall silent. His gaze flicks back to me. I wonder what type of man he was as a husband. Was he a good one? Was she always laughing?

I want to know all of these things. Yet there’s a bitter twist I don’t entirely understand.

“Do you plan to ever marry again?” I ask.

“No,” he admits. “I loved her, no doubt in my head about that. And I assumed I would never meet anyone as amazing as she was.” He pins me with a stare. “But marriage was something she wanted; I never wanted it.” He leans back over and grabs his drink, reminding me to do the same. As soon as I do, his hand is waiting expectantly for me to place mine back in it.

“Do you want marriage?” he asks.

It wasn’t something I’d seriously considered, not until recently, after watching Honey and Rya. It’s inspiring but also something I’m certain happens in fairy tales. But if I met a man like that, I suppose I would want it.

“I think I do.” I’m smiling as I say it, thinking of Honey and her happiness. It’s all Maria talks about as well. I always thought it was a sign of weakness, but the women here in New York have proven that otherwise.

“I hope you get everything you want, Alina.”

It feels kind of… done. Like that’s the answer we both wanted to hear.

That what we’re doing between us is just that—sex.

It offers me a bitter twist but also a foundation and understanding as to where we stand. He’s a man not willing to step away from his past, and I’m a woman only looking at my future.

“I think we can go to your room now,” I tell him, finishing my drink and placing it down.

“You needed liquid courage to come back to my room?” That playful side of his is back.

I laugh as I lean over and brush my lips against his. I graze my lips along his jaw and then whisper into his ear, “No, I just feel more comfortable now, knowing there are no expectations.”

“Well, I did give you a plane, so I at least want some head.”

I laugh, and he cockily grins and pulls me up from the day bed. I grab the bottle of champagne and say in a sing-song way, “I guess we’ll see what we can manage.”

CHAPTER 30

Alina

I’m pinned against the door before it even shuts behind us. His mouth is on mine, his hands curving over my figure and crumpling the soft fabric of my dress. I’m arching into him, my body an absolute whore for his touch. The only thing keeping me in this room is him, as I focus on his every touch and demand.

The bottle of champagne slips out of my hand and falls to the floor, but he ignores it; he grips my ass and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the bed.

We pull away from each other momentarily to appreciate one another. His beautiful blue eyes, a raging storm of desire, stare into mine, and that cocky smile forming a dimple makes me want to slap him for it. But not until after his head has been between my legs.

He shifts my weight, now holding me with only one arm, as he moves a piece of my hair out of my face. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

My heart skips, and I hate the way it twists a new sense of unease within me. Because flattery like that should only be sexual, it shouldn’t make me feel any type of way. Especially after the conversation we just had.

“You still talk too much,” I say as I lean down to kiss him. My manicured nails dig into his cheek as I bite and pull on his bottom lip. He chuckles as he throws me onto the bed. I jolt under the force, but before I can adjust myself, he’s on his knees with his head between my legs.

I arch over him as his mouth remorsefully attacks my clit through the fabric of my panties.

“Fuck, I missed this sweet pussy,” he purrs as he pushes the scrap of material to the side and his tongue strokes me. I sigh in relief, and anticipation swarms in my core. No matter how many times I’ve masturbated and fantasized about the first time, it’s not as good as the real thing.

This man knows how to use his tongue. My fingers rake through his hair as I push him closer to me, demandingly and hungrily. He chuckles as he inserts a finger. “You’re awfully greedy tonight, milady.”

“Keep calling me that and I won’t let you taste this sweet pussy ever again,” I say as I shove his face back to work.

For once, he doesn’t have a smartass comment. He just busily goes to work, eating me out as God intended for him to do. He inserts another finger, and I’m shamelessly rolling my hips into him, looking for the high of my next release.

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