Page 73 of The Reluctant Wife

The gentleness in his tone brings a lump to my throat. A pressure knocks at the backs of my eyes.

I slip my arm about his waist and turn my face into his shoulder. And it feels so good. So right. The strength in his body bleeds into mine. My blood heats. The solidness of his chest invites me to sink into him. I draw a breath into my lungs, aware I’m sniffing him and unable to stop myself. He feels so reassuring. So unshakeable. It feeds my own confidence. There’s a whisper of a touch on my head, and I realize he’s pressed his lips to my hair. My heart melts in my chest. My bones feel like they’re turning to mush.

I burrow further into him, enjoying the closeness, feeling his heartbeat echo mine. He wraps his other arm around me, his grasp tightens, and I become aware of how I’m plastered to him. How my breasts are flattened against his chest. How his muscles are rigid, and his biceps feel like they’re made of granite. He seems to have turned to stone. And when I lower my hand to his crotch, I gasp. The thick column tenting the fabric is hot and vital, and bigger than I remember. I’m so turned on, I’m panting. My body feels like it’s about to self-combust.

"What are you doing?" he rumbles.

"We should seal the deal, don’t you think?"

His body stills. Except for the rise and fall of his chest, he’s completely still. “Does this mean you'll marry me?” His voice is a deep, dark vibration in his chest that curls around my nipples and pinches my nerve-endings, making my clit throb.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Instantly, he releases me, only to wrap my hair around his hand and tug. I gasp. My head falls back. Pinpricks of painradiate out from my scalp and arrow to my pussy. My clit throbs; my pussy lips seem to engorge. I’m held immobile by his grip, my throat bared to him in a gesture of submission.

“Say it aloud so I can hear you properly,” he orders. The command in his voice sends a delicious spiral of want to my core.

“Yes.” I tip up my chin. “Yes, I'll marry you.”

“Good girl,” he rumbles.

A whimper escapes me. And when he bends and drags his nose up the column of my neck, I shudder.

"Let’s get one thing clear; you don’t give the orders. Understand?”

I nod.

"Out there, you might be the Princess of Verenza, but when it’s just the two of us, I’m your Master."

The confidence in his voice is an aphrodisiac that turns my pussy into a melting mess.

"You’re mine to do with as I want. Mine to punish if you disobey. Mine to reward when I decide you’ve earned it. Understand?"

The dominance in his words lights a million fires in my body. I’m burning up. My breath coming in short quick pants.

"Say it." He yanks on my hair.

I yelp, more in surprise than in pain. "Yesss," I hiss. "Yes."

In response, he bites down on the side of my throat. It’s a gesture of ownership. And possession. And control. And so hot.

“Anyone could walk in on us, but I know the thought of that is only going to add to your arousal,” he growls.

A shiver ripples up my body. The flames in my belly seem to leap up to my chest. He must sense how turned on I am for he leans back and stares into my features. “You’re my lusty little plaything aren’t you, Empress?’

I nod. Him calling me his plaything should definitely not ramp up the need in my body, either.

He kisses the very place on my skin where he bit me, and a low moan bleeds from my lips.

He places his other hand over where mine is wrapped around his length through the crotch of his pants. And when he squeezes down, his shaft seems to thicken and fill my palm. He swipes my palm over the steel pillar, and my nipples tighten. My thighs quiver. He drags his nose up the exposed column of my throat, and I shudder. My chest rises and falls. I squirm around, trying to get closer, and he laughs.

The sound vibrates through his chest and sinks into my blood. It ripples across my skin and turns my knees into jelly.

He continues to drag my hand over his swollen shaft and pins me in place with the hold on my hair. The fact that he’s able to control my movements with such little effort ratchets up my need. I try to turn my head to look at him, but he clicks his tongue. "Patience."

I huff.

It draws another chuckle from him. The gravelly, very masculine sound slides down my spine and settles between my legs. Everything he does seems designed to increase my arousal to fever pitch. I wriggle in place, trying to inch closer, but his hold on my hair tightens. Pinpricks of fire skitter across my scalp, and that turns me on even more. My toes curl, and my clit throbs. I swear, I’m going to come just from the anticipation.

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