Page 135 of The Obvious Check

“Sleep?” he asks with raised brows before he rests his hands on my thighs and pushes the fabric of my dress higher. “You can't seriously expect me to sleep knowing my wife is wearing these,” he says, his fingers tracing the edge of the white lace he picked out for me this morning.

I answer him by slowly unzipping my dress, watching his eyes darken as the fabric pools around my waist.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands are on me instantly, and I can't help the way my body responds to his touch. Everything feels electric, like my skin is on fire every time his hands touch me.

“I'm officially the luckiest bastard who ever lived,” he growls against my throat.

Cade lets out a growl. Low, deep, and guttural, and is the kind of noise that scrapes across my skin like sandpaper and sinks straight between my legs. His hands are already on my breasts, greedy and reverent all at once, and I grind against him shamelessly as I feel his hardness grow under me with every slow roll of my hips.

My head tilts back, chasing more pleasure, more friction, more everything, but then his hands grip my hips, stilling me. “As much as I’ve thoroughly enjoyed being used as your human vibrator,” he murmurs. “I was kinda hoping to participate?”

Cocky bastard.

I lean down, press my hands against his chest, and kiss him like I’m trying to brand myself into his mouth. He kisses back. It’s messy and filled with everything he says out loud.

He loves me. He’ll fight for me. I never have to worry with him around.

Without breaking the kiss, he flips me onto my back and shrugs out of his shirt and then his pants. My hands roam his body unapologetically, dragging over every muscle and feeling it flex under my touch.

He’s down to his black boxers when he moves toward the nightstand.

“If you're getting a condom…” I pause. “We don’t need it. I'm on the pill, and we're married now,”

His hand freezes on the drawer, and one eyebrow lifts. “Duly noted, Mrs. Bright.” His smirk is undeniable now. “But I was, uh, getting something else.”

He pulls out the purple ring pop and gives me a pointed look.

“Cade!” I groan. “I already told you no.”

“And I heard you,” he says, his tone innocent even though there’s a glint in his eyes. “Relax, I’m not putting it anywhere without your express permission, Pretty Girl.” He slides it onto his finger. “But I do have a surprise.”

Before I can argue, he’s on me again, settling between my thighs and pressing me into the mattress. His mouth drags along my jaw, trailing down to that hypersensitive spot behind my ear as his hips grind into mine.

With only thin fabric between us, I can feel every inch of him, and it's driving me completely insane.

“Cade,” I breathe, arching into him.

“Shh, Pretty Girl,” he whispers, his fingers tracing lazy circles between my thighs. The move drives me insane. “Let me worship what’s mine.”

It’s a lie. He doesn’t worship. He consumes.

When his mouth follows the path his hands blazed and he starts pressing kisses along my stomach, I moan his name in frustration.

He lifts his head, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Guess I’ll have to find a new way to keep you quiet, huh?”

Then he backs away, and the cold air hits my skin.

“No,” I whimper, desperate and undone. My fingers claw at the sheets, my body arching toward him on instinct.

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t soften. He just raises his hand, the one with the candy ring, and holds it to my lips.

“Taste,” he commands

I obey, parting my lips, and he slides the candy inside, past my tongue. With my eyes on him, I close my mouth around it. I suck deep and slow, letting the sweet flavor explode in my mouth.

His jaw ticks and a low groan rumbles from his throat as his hand slides into my hair, holding me in place as he watches my mouth work over the candy.

I hollow my cheeks, and swirl my tongue around the candy, keeping my eyes on him, letting him know that I’m pretending it’s him. The desperate look that crosses his face makes me feel powerful in a way I’d never experienced.

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