Page 113 of The Wrong Husband
"Oh, stop that."
"Stop what?" He lets go of my hand, and instead, jams both of his in his pockets.
"That." I wave my fingers toward his face. "You’re trying to be all cool and casual when really, you’re being all grumpy and growly inside."
"I’m not grumpy and growly," he growls back.
"See." I jut out my chin. "You’re growling at me."
He opens his mouth to speak, but a growl emerges again.
“Definitely growling.” My lips twitch, but I manage to keep my mirth at bay.
He slams his lips together and takes a few deep breaths, which results in those perfect teardrop shaped nostrils of his flaring in and out—I hope he never finds out that I think his nostrils are perfect—then seems to get a hold of himself.
"I was growling, but now, I’m not.” The hard line between his brows relaxes.
"Okay." I draw in a breath.
"Okay." He rolls his shoulders, seemingly calmer now.
"Better?" I ask cautiously.
He nods back, just as cautiously.
"Can you tell me why you’re so upset?"
To his credit, he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. "I’m jealous of anyone else who sets eyes on my beautiful bride," he bites out.
Something hot and melting coils in my chest and drips through my veins, like honey spilling from an overfull honeycomb. Rich, thick, and sticky, and flooding my bloodstream with too many feelings. "Oh." I bite my lower lip.
Instantly, his eyes fasten on my mouth, his gaze sharpening. That not very well-hidden beast inside of him peeks out from behind his eyes. I swear, his entire demeanor changes. That dark, primal part of him I’ve sensed from the moment I met him seems to saturate his personality.
"But that’s not the real reason you’re upset, is it?" I venture, wondering how far I can prod this lethal version of him. There’s the Connor who’s tender and understanding. Who respected me enough not to overstep the line in invading my privacy by placing cameras in my house or investigating my past.
Then there’s this version—animalistic, visceral, and so very sexy. Both sides of him are appealing. Together, they constitute the best possible combination I could ask for in a man. But I want more. I want to unleash that part of him he keeps under control. That carnal side he’s hinted at and never fully revealed.
Can I get him to show me what would happen if he fully let go of the boundaries he’s laid down between us.
He must sense my thoughts, for his jaw clenches, and a fierceness sweeps over his face. "You want to know the real reason I was upset?"
His voice has turned gravelly, with an underlying menace curling around my waist and keeping me rooted to the spot. It’s like there’s this heaviness in the air, a static electricity lighting up my nerve endings and causing the hair on my forearms to rise.
"Yes," I manage to whisper, "I do."
"I was upset because"—he bends his knees and peers into my eyes—"I want more from you."
"More?" Anticipation runs down my spine. I have a sense I know what this man is talking about. This man who is now my husband, who I sensed could surprise me in ways I couldn’t imagine, who I instinctively sensed could show me the kind of pleasure I’ve never experienced before. He would, surely, want something in return.
He nods slowly.
"I want you to give yourself up to me fully. I don’t want you to hold back anything from me. I will not let you hold anything back. I want to know your innermost thoughts, your fears, your deepest insecurities. I want you to give yourself up to me completely. Can you do that?"
40
Connor
She hesitates. A myriad of emotions cross her face. Eagerness, lust, then a flash of apprehension. A part of me is disappointed that she didn’t say yes right away. That my wife…had to think before answering whether she could give herself to me completely. It’s up to me to change that. It’s up to me to coax that level of surrender from her. If she doesn’t feel comfortable accepting me completely, if she’s unable to trust me fully, thenIhaven’t done a very good job of giving her the reason to do so. Conviction tightens my chest. A surge of determination turns my insides into a river of need.
