Page 49 of Exposing Adonis

That stubbornness turned me on so much. It was the control I loved to break.

I unbuttoned her jeans, just enough to loosen the entrance before slowly, inserting my fingers over the warmth of her lower belly. I teased at the trim hairs that led me to the apex of her thighs, where a wetness greeted my hand.

“It’s too soon for marriage, maybe.” I’d marry her right now, if she’d let me. My fingers dipped inside her and she gasped. “A ring is just an oath to be mine. Would you wear it?”

“No,” she gasped as my finger stroked the soft, smooth folds, sliding their way between them again. “I’m too fucking old for a promise ring.”

“Then marry me,” I said against her ear, her hair fluttering on my breath. “Then we’ll be real grown-ups.”

I circled her clit with my index finger and she instinctively spread her legs for me, opening herself for more.

“I can’t …” her voice rose in a slight, questioning inflection. “You need to stop. A nurse could come in at any moment.”

“I’ll stop when you agree.” I threatened, continuing to harden my ministrations as her breaths became uneven. Her fingers grasped at my forearms, clinging. But not once did she try to push me away. “Why can’t you marry me?”

I bit down on her ear. She whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed.

She whispered, “Because my parents think you’re a priest.”

“Father Deacon Callum gave up his vestments for you,” I said with a chuckle. She was grasping for control, and losing. “That’s easy to fix. What else?” I renewed my stroke of her clit, and she whimpered. “Tell me everything that’s wrong, so I can fix it.”

“We don’t know each other. At all.” Her legs were shaking, her inner thighs rubbing together as her hips moved in time with my finger. “It’s barely been a couple months since… uh!”

“I have a dossier with your blood type, your last surgery, your high school transcripts,” I listed them, one after another. “Every address and base you’ve lived on, and every mission you went on while in the Army. I even know what books you’ve read.”

“But …” she swallowed, trying to speak. “I … my parents don’t know you … they wouldn’t … oh!”

Her head fell backwards onto my shoulder, against my wound, and the scar she had inflicted. But I didn’t care. A little pain was worth the beauty I was about to witness. The bite of pain just heightened my intensity, and my need.

“I’ll bring them to the castle. Lay it all out if that’s what you need.” I reassured her, planting a kiss on her slender neck. My free hand moved up her body until my palm rested against that delicate pulse point.

“You’re on drugs,” she whispered. “This isn’t a good conversation to have when you’re on narcotics.”

“You handed me a knife moments ago! But you’re afraid of a harmless ring?” My hand tightened around her throat, restricting her air, and still she did not push me away. I wanted to know what depths of depravity she could take pleasure in.

“A knife is safer than a ring.” That was a phrase only my Atalanta would ever say.

Her hand covered her open mouth, her eyes flaring wide as shivers wracked her little body. Her climax was sweet, the heat of her skin against my body making me hard. She was so warm, her tan skin flushed. Even through her clothes, I could feel her temperature rise. I wanted to bury myself in her. To rip these cables off, and have her on the awkward hospital bed.

But I refrained. The IV’s and tubes would notify everyone of what I was doing with my woman, and no one had a right to see the pleasure on her face except for me.

“Go to sleep,” I whispered into her ear, my moistened hand slipping from her jeans. I touched the beautiful ring finger of hers, taking its measure. It was tiny. Just like her. I’d need something custom made. I needed to get Geordie’s help, if I was stuck in here. I’d carryherring in my pocket every minute of the day, waiting for that feeling of glorious inevitability to place it on her finger.

But like that feeling of fate, I knew that my ring would be there. Sooner, rather than later.

Chapter 22

Lea

Wespentdaysinthe hospital. Almost a week went by. Callum was still sleeping most of the day; the pain meds were kicking his ass. But he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. He still needed to be in a very, deep sleep before he’d relax his hold enough for me to slip away.

The moment his eyes opened, he would yell for me, until I ran back in and slipped my hand in his. He’d grip it with all his strength, as though I was falling off the edge of a cliff and he was the only thing keeping me from certain death. If he had his way, I’d be in his arms all the time. He’d follow me to the bathroom if he could.

My brother’s room wasn’t far, but Dr. Laurent was always at his side. Today, his door was open. Alastair was standing outside, a mug of tea in his hand, with the Earl Gray tag dangling from its side. When he saw me, he grinned, then tilted his head into the door.

I walked over, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Dinner and a show,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Have a look.”

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