Page 51 of Tempting My Billionaire Master

He carried me over to a nearby armchair and sat down, settling me in his lap. I was now straddling him, our bodies joined intimately. My heart raced as I prepared to take control, eager to show him just how much he meant to me.

I braced my hands on his shoulders and began riding him in earnest, relishing the way his gaze glazed over and his breath turned to ragged growls.

Ethan’s hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements, squeezing and caressing. I knew he loved watching me take my pleasure from him, loved seeing me come undone in his arms. I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel.

“God, Chloe, you drive me wild,” he rasped, his voice strained with desire.

Leaning against his chest for support, my fingers dug into the meaty flesh of his muscles. I never wanted this moment to end, lost in the sensations of our love.

“Show me how much you want me, Ethan,” I whispered, challenging him to take us both over the edge.

Ethan’s gaze burned with a wild, untamed desire as he gripped me tighter, pinning my body against his. He began thrusting from below, each movement powerful and deliberate, leaving me breathless and wanting more. The new angle allowed him to hit just the right spot, building the fire in my core.

Ethan sucked one nipple into his mouth, biting down gently. A jolt of pleasure shot straight to my core and I cried out, grinding against him.

The chair creaked under us, the library filled with the sounds of harsh breathing, flesh meeting flesh, my cries of ecstasy as Ethan slammed up into me.

“Please, Ethan,” I panted, feeling my orgasm build within me. “Come inside me.”

In response, he slapped my ass, the sting of pain transforming into pleasure that rippled through my body. I craved more, and he obliged, his hand connecting with my flesh again and again as I teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

“Ethan,” I whimpered, fisting his hair and bringing his mouth to mine. Our kiss was messy, desperate. “Harder…”

Ethan held nothing back, pounding into me brutally as I crashed over the edge with a cry, tremors wracking my body.

“Chloe… I’m…” Ethan roared, releasing himself inside me, filling me up completely. The power of his orgasm only magnified my own pleasure, and I reveled in our connection.

I collapsed onto his chest, spent and panting, while he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. We remained like that, the world outside disappearing as time seemed to stand still. My fingers traced the scar on his shoulder, a symbol of everything we’d been through together. Glancing at my engagement ring, I realized it could never compare to the connection that scar represented.

Ethan reached over to the nearby table, grabbing a slice of Jess’s cherry pie. Taking a bite, he grinned. “This is really good. I need to get the recipe.”

I laughed, tracing circles on his chest. “Good luck with that. Jess supposedly guards her secret ingredient like a state secret.”

“Really? I bet it’s nutmeg,” he teased, and we both laughed.

“I love you, husband,” I whispered, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.

“Forever and always, my beautiful wife. I love you too.”

Wedding One

Chloe

“I do,” I whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and disbelief that this moment was actually happening. The pastor’s eyes twinkled as he announced to the room, “I now pronounce you husband and wife!” He then gestured toward Ethan and said with a grin, “You may now kiss your bride.” Ethan took my hands in his and as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, the little church in Pinegrove erupted with cheers and applause.

Ethan’s kiss was gentle, but I could feel the animal passion he was holding back, making me look forward to the evening even more. When we parted, I gazed up at my husband, still unable to believe a man could be so impossibly handsome. His green eyes sparkled, framed by thick dark lashes. His tailored suit fit him impeccably, accentuating his wide frame and athletic build, exuding an air of elegance that was impossible to ignore.

With only three days between our proposal and impromptu wedding, there hadn’t been time for me to find a proper wedding dress. Thankfully, Elisabeth had loaned me her own wedding dress, which she’d kept carefully preserved in the attic. It was a simple yet beautiful gown in rural American style—delicate lace overlay on the bodice and a flowing skirt that gently brushed the floor as I moved. Any fancy designer gown would have felt out of place here in this small wooden church, among these wonderful, authentic people who had become like family.

Ethan took my hand and we turned to face our guests, a mix of delight and nervousness swirling in my stomach. The Insomniacs sat in the front row, tears of joy in their eyes, while Jess and Amanda were sitting on the other side, whispering something to each other and giggling like schoolgirls as they threw glances our way. My cheeks flushed, wondering what risqué theories they were concocting about our wedding night.

Behind Jess and Amanda sat Patrick with some of his police buddies. He tried to look relaxed, but the beads of sweat on his forehead and his nervous glances at Amanda betrayed his anxiety.

“Ready to head out, Mrs. Hamilton?” Ethan murmured, his lips brushing my ear and sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

I sighed happily. “Absolutely, Mr. Hamilton.”

Arm in arm, we walked down the aisle as cheers and applause erupted around us.

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