Page 93 of Finding Lord Landry

He replaced his hand with his lips on mine and kissed me until we were both gasping for air.

I scrambled for my pants, yanking them open while Landry fumbled in his pocket for something. My idea was to relieve the tension with a quick frot, but he had something else in mind.

He spun me around, pressing me face-first into the thick wool coats. I grabbed onto them to keep from tumbling through them into the wall.

“Lan—!” I squeaked as a slick finger pressed against my hole. Relief and arousal hit me in tandem, sharp and dizzying. I didn’t give a shit what he was using for lube as long as it worked.

“Shh,” he cooed softly in my ear, his chin nudging my hair away from the side of my face. “That’s it. Let me in, beautiful. Good. Just like that.”

The feel of him inside me made my eyes sting, not from pain but from the sheer fucking rightness of it. I’d missed him so much—the way he took over, took care of me, made me feel like the center of his world and my pleasure was his sole focus.

“I love you,” he breathed.

A whimper slipped from my throat.

Landry’s low voice went straight to my balls. “Shh, don’t say it. Don’t.”

My nose burned, eyes welling. He felt so fucking good as he worked his way inside me, slow and deliberate.

“I love you so much,” he murmured. His cock felt like it was in my throat. The stretch burned, forcing me up on my toes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice raw and rough in my ear. “You have no idea what it does to me when you walk away like I don’t mean anything. Like this… us… is only physical.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong. That it had never been just physical. That saying otherwise had been the only way I knew how to protect myself.

But he slid a hand over my mouth. “Don’t say it,” he begged. “If you don’t want a future with me, lock me out of the bedroom tonight. Because I’m too weak to stay away on my own, but I can’t spend another night wrapped around my executioner.”

His voice broke on the last word.

I reached back and palmed the back of his head, pulling him closer before turning and capturing his lips. The kiss was searing, desperate. He might have worried it was a goodbye, but I forced him to feel my surrender instead.

Without a word, I tried to tell him everything. That I loved him. That my future was his, however he wanted it.

His hand came around to stroke my cock, sending me immediately into the stratosphere. Landry clamped a hand back over my mouth to stifle the sound, but the restraint only drove me higher, wringing every last drop from me.

Just as his movements stuttered and his breath caught with his own release, voices broke through the haze.

A man’s voice grew louder as he reached the curtain. “Your coat is in here, ma’am. Let me fetch it for you.”

Landry ground into me one final time—a defiant, lingering pulse of pleasure—before reality crashed back. He pulled out and shoved me deeper into the alcove before snatching a coat off the rack. He threw it on and pressed me into the darkness of the back corner, hiding as much of me with his body and the heavy fabric as he could.

A woman’s voice followed, far too close. “And my husband’s also? His is a dark gray overcoat with a cashmere scarf tucked into the collar.”

I held my breath and prayed the coat around us didn’t have a scarf attached.

Rustling. A murmur. The sounds of a man checking tags.

Then, the woman let out a satisfied sigh. “Ah, lovely. Thank you very much.”

Footsteps receded.

The curtain dropped closed.

And I exhaled.

“You’re shaking,” Landry murmured.

“I was almost the center of a global sex scandal.” I was aiming for a joke, though it was too real to be funny. “But I suppose it would have quieted any concerns about how real our marriage was if we’d been caught, wouldn’t it? We could’ve blamed newlywed passion.” I laughed nervously.

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