Page 43 of Claiming Genevieve

Although, I think grimly as I run a hand over my mouth,fighting has always felt a bit like foreplay with her.

“It’s…” I can’t think of anything to say. There isn’t any way to prove that we haven’t slept together tonight, not unless one of us tells, and it’s not in either of our best interests to do so. “Are you trying to get an annulment, lass? You won’t get anything out of this if you do.”

“Of course not,” Genevieve snaps. “But you remember our agreement, don’t you?” Her hands tighten on the edge of the bed, as if she’s bracing herself for a fight. “We only sleep together on the days when it could get me pregnant.” She licks her lips, and my cock goes from half-hard to ragingly erect in an instant. “This isn’t one of those days. Nights.”

“Are you sure?” I know I sound like an idiot, but I don’t fucking care. My entire body feels wound tight, my cock straining against the front of my suit trousers, my entire being focused on her. I want her desperately,needher to the point of pain. I’ve all but rubbed my cock raw stroking myself to the thought of her every fucking morning and night since I first met her, and I can’t quite wrap my head around the idea that I have tokeep waiting.

But I won’t force her. I’ve never been the sort of man to do that, and I’m not about to begin now.

Genevieve looks at me with a flash of irritation in her eyes. “Yes. I went to the doctor. I’m tracking my cycle. It’s going to be another few days before I’m fertile.”

Something in the primal part of my brain clicks off at hearing her sayfertile, and my cock throbs painfully again. I clear my throat. “Well, if it’s a few days, maybe we should try tonight anyway. You know, I hear that a man’s semen can stay viable in the?—”

“Rowan.” Genevieve cuts me off, but her eyes don’t quite meet mine. “I’m not doing this tonight.”

I swallow hard, trying to think past the fog of lust that clouds every part of my mind. My gaze sweeps over her, as if to intentionally torture myself with how beautiful she looks tonight. Her hair is thick and loose in those soft curls, spilling down her shoulders and back. Her lips are a soft rose, the same shade as the first night we met, full and plush. And that fucking dress—she looks like a goddess in it, and since those church doors opened, I’ve been fucking dreaming of the moment when I’d peel it away from her body and get to see every inch of her for the first time.

Something tightens in my chest, an emotion that I hadn’t expected, gripping me. I’ve never been sentimental about sex, never viewed it as anything but a means to achieve pleasure for both myself and my partner. But I can’t help feeling, in this moment, that I’m losing something. That bynotgetting to take Genevieve to bed tonight, I’m missing out on something I’ll never get the chance for again. At least not with her.

“It’s our wedding night, lass,” I say softly. “Do you want to miss out on that?”

She looks up at me sharply, a hint of surprise on her face. I want to tell her I’m as shocked as she is at the sentiment, but I can’t seem to speak for a moment. All I can do is look at her. All I can do is ache for her.

“I said no,” Genevieve says softly. Her eyes meet mine. “Are you going to respect that?”

Something snaps in the air between us, and I narrow my eyes at her. “I’d never hurt you, Genevieve. You should know that.”

My voice is reproving, tense, and she nods, looking away. I stand there for a moment, as if hoping she might change her mind, and then I shake my head, taking a step back. “I’ll just go and change in the bathroom, then,” I say awkwardly, clearing my throat. “While you get ready for bed.”

Genevieve nods, not looking at me. The tension between us has turned to an awkward heaviness, and I turn away just as I hear her speak again.

“Rowan?”

The sound of my name on her lips somehow makes me even harder. I hadn’t known it was possible. My cock feels like it’s about to fucking snap in two.

“Yes?” I manage, turning back toward her, and she gives me a helpless, frustrated look.

“I can’t get my dress off by myself.”

I swallow hard.Fuck. I’d wanted to take it off of her as badly as I want to breathe, but this feels like just another form of torture. I walk toward her all the same, because I’m beginning to believe that there’s not a fucking thing on earth I could deny this woman.

Genevieve turns away from me, reaching with one hand to sweep her hair over her shoulder. Her upper back is suddenly bare, the smooth pale skin entirely revealed above the severe line of her wedding dress.

The back of it is a row of small buttons leading down to the base of her spine, looped over a zipper. I reach up for the first one, my heart suddenly beating harder in the hollow of my throat as I undo it.

My cock pulses. I undo another one. And another. It feels like there’s no blood left in my upper body. It’s all in the eight inches between my thighs, pulsing like a second heartbeat as I flick open button after button and resist the urge to touch her anywhere else. She’s so close that I can feel the warmth radiating off of her skin. I can smell that herbal, salty scent of her perfume, smell her skin beneath it, the vanilla of her shampoo. I want to run my lips over the nape of her neck, drag them down her spine. I want to kiss every inch of flesh that I’m about to reveal as I finish undoing the buttons and reach up to start to drag the zipper down.

I’m so hungry for her that it feels like I’m starving.

Swallowing hard, I start to tug the zipper down. Inch after inch of her creamy flesh is revealed as it slides open, and my pulse pounds in my temples, my cock cramped and throbbing in the tight space of my trousers. I want her so fucking badly it hurts.

I drag it all the way down to the bottom, and Genevieve presses her other hand to her chest, holding the dress up. I see the necklace I gave her sparkle in the low light of the room.

“Thank you,” she says softly, and I know I’m dismissed.

Blindly, I shove myself up from the bed, pivoting on my heel and striding quickly to the bathroom. I catch a brief glimpse of the shock on Genevieve’s face at my abrupt departure, but I couldn’t stay there a second longer. Not unless I wanted to fall on her like a starving animal.

I shut the bathroom door behind me, hard, flipping the lock as one hand goes to my belt. I drag it open, yanking my zipper down as I palm my aching cock free, wrapping my fist around it with a hiss as the relief of skin-to-skin contact washes over me.

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