Page 179 of A Forgotten Promise

I stand in the door, not wanting to interrupt the moment. And I’m not going to lie, but seeing a brawny man petting a tiny kitten is downright sexy.

He is still a growly, domineering asshole most of the time, but he lets his softer side come out more often. At least at home.

“This animal is therapeutic.” The timbre of his voice washes over me like honey.

I guess I can’t go undetected. My husband has some special sense knowing where I am all the time. “Did you work from home again?”

“Maybe.”

“Because of Coco?”

“She calms me, everyone benefits.”

I laugh, and Coco stirs and jumps down, rolling around on the ground before she saunters away.

“Sorry I interrupted your cuddling time,” I tease.

“I prefer your cuddles.” He looks at me with that devilish gaze and pats the seat beside him. “Come here.” It’s an order, andcuddlingis not what he has in mind.

“We have guests arriving in two hours, and there are things to prepare.”

“What things? The caterers will take care of everything, and they’re here in one hour. Plenty of time to check how soaked your pussy is, and decide where you would like my cock.”

“I need to shower and get my hair done—”

“I said come here, The Morrigan.”

Shivers shudder through me at his command, and at that stupid name he says in that sexy Irish accent. It rolls off his tongue with such sensuality, I almost want him to use it more often.

I amble to him, taking my time, using my modeling training to sway my hips just the perfect way.

He eats me with his gaze, tapping his fingers on the backrest, slowly losing his patience. I’m going to get it if I continue teasing him, but fuck if that isn’t half of the fun.

When I reach the sofa, I jut out my hip to the side, perching my hand on it, and strike a pose as if this was a catwalk.

He doesn’t move, but the heat from his gaze scorches me, regardless. It’s a hot, sweltering day at the end of June, and there are fans running around the patio to manufacture the breeze that left Manhattan for the summer.

My hair is flowing, and the hem of my dress shimmies.

“Nice dress. Take it off.”

I don’t know why I am such a sucker for his aloof commands. I grab the hem of the dress and pull it over my head, dropping it to the ground.

Moving one knee to the seat between his legs, I rake my fingers through his hair. Corm grips my hips and leans in.

“Look at the mess you made of your panties. I was going to dirty you up, but I see you started already.” He buries his nose between my legs and inhales indulgently.

The approving hum reverberates through me with heat and want and need, and just everything.

I moan audibly when he squeezes my ass.

He looks up, gazing up and down between my thighs with his chin and devouring me with his eyes.

I’m desperate for him. Every. Single. Time.

“What is it going to be? Where do you want my cock?”

“I have a choice?” I try to sound teasing, but I’m just a choked-up mess. Not even two minutes in. Jesus. “Aren’t you in charge?”

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