Page 123 of Wedlocked

“You do that to yourself?” he asked, voice calm.

I didn’t answer.

“Take those pants off.”

I didn’t move.

He wrenched them down my legs and stood, pushing his hands under my arms, and lifted me the rest of the way out of them. The part inside me that felt immeasurably small was suddenly in the spotlight, all my vulnerabilities on display.

“How dare you put on clothes that aren’t mine?” he practically growled. “You’re only allowed to wear clothes that have touched me first. You understand that?”

I avoided his gaze.

He caught my chin, and though I felt his ire, his touch was gentle. As he pulled my face around, his imposing stare beseeched mine. “I bought more clothes so you’d have more to wear. Ilikeseeing you in my clothes. It’s satisfying when you walk around smelling like me and it’s my clothes covering you and keeping you warm. I like having pieces of myself on you when we’re apart.”

Oh. “You do?” I whispered.

“Oh yes, princess. And the next time I see you in clothes that aren’t mine, I’m going to rip them off you just like I did those.”

Goose bumps prickled my naked body, the air in the room chilly, and his words washed me in awareness.

“You walked around all day thinking I was mad at you. Even though I told you I wasn’t.” The disappointment in his voice was unmistakable.

My face lowered.

He pushed it back up.

“You are not too much.” His voice was firm. “You are enough.You are all I want.”

“But—”

“Enough.”

My stomach was fluttery, slightly nauseated from all the turmoil. Everything inside me was scattered from shouting and adrenaline. I clung to his words like a lifeline, so desperate to believe him.

I shifted forward, and he moved with me. My breath hitched. The need for him was so urgent it warped into desperation. I reached out, but my hand stalled between us.

“You can do it, princess.” He encouraged me, waving his fingers in invitation.

I swallowed, shifting a little closer. He nodded, praise lighting his face, and my fingers made landfall on his skin, skirting beneath the open front of his shirt and gliding along his side.

I whimpered quietly, stomach full-on buzzing now and making my body tremble. Grazing across the rounded flesh of his defined pec, I went right for what I wanted and curled my fingers around the barbell in his nipple. The second I met the cool metal of the bar, I whimpered again, shuffling even closer, so close we were practically fused at the chest.

“See how good that feels,” he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle my cheek. My chest rose and fell as I twisted and tugged thepiercing, loving the way his skin gave and rebounded beneath my touch.

His hand curled around my side, floating at the small of my back. I swayed, our chests meeting. His skin was warm where mine was cold.

Still holding his nipple, I slowly lowered until my forehead was pressed against his shoulder, and my eyes slid closed. “You don’t want to break up with me?”

His body tensed, and the fingers against my back tightened. “Break up with you?” he echoed. “Oh no, princess. I want to marry you.”

Shock had my eyes flying open and my head whipping up. “What?”

“Marry me.”

The unexpected words tilted my world on its axis, whipping up a cocktail of contradictory emotions.Did he really just say what I think he said?

Amusement and affection glimmered in his eyes. “You heard right, princess. I asked you to marry me.”

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