Page 63 of New Storm Rising
“W-what?” I demanded.
“Why, trap you here, of course.” His eyes burned into mine with ice-cold flames. His hand slid down my body, slipping between the folds of my dress. “With my skills.”
How had ninety-nine percent of the female population of this planet neglected to try and marry this man?
Like I said. People are idiots.
“Now,” he breathed against my skin. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
I opened my mouth to respond—whereupon he took the chance to claim my mouth with his. His tongue teased my own, twirling and dancing. As if in rhythm to the same silent music, tingles were dancing all across my body, telling me to writhe, to clutch him closer and never let go.
I think I’m gonna listen.
No, I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. If he really was doing this to trap me, to make me into a compliant little wife and—
Just then, his hand found a certain spot.
“Aaah!”
Oh, to hell with it! Let’s take a holiday from independence!
“Now, my dear wife, tell me…” His eyes bored deep into mine, promising heat from hell and pleasure from heaven. “Will you stay right where you are, nice and obedient?”
“O-of course not, I—aaah!”
“Would you like to rethink that?”
“I-I’m not that easily maniiiiiih…!”
“Yes.” A gentle kiss brushed the corner of my mouth. “You’re so strong-minded. You’ll be able to resist, won’t you?”
“Y-yes!”
“So…” Something evil glittered in his icy eyes. “You won’t mind if I dial up the heat a little, will you?”
Oh, heck!
“Now wait just a minute, I—aaah!”
“What was that?”
“Yespleasemorerightnow!”
“That’s what I thought I heard. Now…let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Somewhere in the background of my mind, I registered a soft noise. Like…from a pair of trousers hitting the floor.
And then he was there, on top of me. Cold. Hard. Indomitable.
Oh yes, let’s get down to business! I love business! I want to be a businesswoman!
“Come,” he told me, hovering inches away, his proximity nearly driving me wild. “Let me show you exactly why it was a good decision to marry me.”
***
Cock-a-doodle-doo…
“Yes, please, more…” I mumbled, the dream image of Mr Rikkard Ambrose doing interesting things to my body. “Harder…harder…”
