Page 67 of Mistletoe Missus
“Ah, shit...” I whimpered, unable to hold back as my eyes rolled, but he grabbed my chin and forced my head down.
“Look what you fucking do to me, Wife,” Mitt roared, his voice deep and husky with passion. “You are slick, so damn tight, and my heaven on earth.”
I watched his veiny, bulging cock slip in and out of me. He made my head dizzy, and it was a good thing he held me or else I’d collapse. Mitt Morgan was rocking my world, and I was ruling him.
I was Mitt’s goddamn angel who wore a crown.
“Yes, Mitt...” I whimpered, my head against his cheek. “And you are my everything.”
I did Mitt in.
A long, drawn-out groan rumbled through Mitt’s chest as he roared out. He couldn’t hold back. My words were his undoing, and he gave into his release. Completely, undeniably, Mitt gave up his power to me. He gave me everything he had and pumped endlessly until there was nothing left. No one but us. I was his, and he was mine, entangled together as we breathed heavily. He wrapped me up with him, never to let me escape, and I wouldn’t ever let my husband go because I was in love with him. Forever. Until the day I died.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Darkness
Tinsley
Asmile curled at the edges of my face, and I was beyond happy. Mitt had left me on the edge of my seat, clinging to anything and trying not to fall. The tumble would be the end of me, and I’d never be able to get back on my feet, but Mitt had stopped the never-ending loss of balance from grace. The constant back and forth between us and the bickering fights were gone.
My husband had given in to me. He had expressed his need for me unlike any man had before, and he wanted me all for himself. He proved his point when we had feverish, mind-blowing sex in my brand-new car, and there was no turning back the clock. Especially when I might grow our child inside of me.
The idea Mitt had sprung on me in the heat of the moment. I pondered afterward, when he held me in his arms, if he regretted his decision. The thought nagged at me until he invited me to join him for dinner this evening at his office. I teased him about protection this time around, but he informed me not to bother. All he needed was me, and all he ever wanted was me.
Mitt’s mood shift had changed me completely. I was in an upbeat mood as I made my way from the bedroom and through the hallway. The tight leggings and sweater dress I wore wentperfectly together. I wanted to wear something comfortable, but easy enough to discard. The thought of a romantic evening with my husband made the desire pool in my core and I became slick between the thighs. Mitt had a naughty way of getting to me, and I’d never tire of the sensations he brought to my body.
Mitt wanted me to join him and become closer to each other instead of being together strictly for business. This marriage between us wasn’t solely based on convenience anymore. The hatred was melting and the icy walls we had put up were going away. Love had shone through for me and maybe for him someday, too. His need to care for me and protect me had somehow made him into someone I could trust, even with blackmail looming over my head. Mitt had proven he’d do all it took to help save my company, and I didn’t have to worry about him taking my career away from me.
I’d always be on high alert around Cyprus because he was dangerous. He held a sinister side to him that he kept hidden from the world. His icy hands seemed ready to seize everything in my life if I didn’t comply, but he had no reason to worry. I was in love and no longer wanted a divorce. I wanted Mitt for better and for worse.
A text message caught my attention.
There was a picture from Mitt with an intimate candlelit dinner and reservations for two. The sweet gesture made me giggle as he grinned for the selfie and held up a glass of bubbly champagne. He was drop dead gorgeous, and I couldn’t wait to get to him.
We both had earned this evening after a hard day’s work. Mitt had won a court case, and I had scheduled several appointments for upcoming events in the months ahead. Everything was going right, and nothing would ever be wrong again.
Mitt: No champagne for you, Wife.
I pouted. Which quickly turned into a smile. My hand rubbed against my belly as I hoped a baby grew inside, and I couldn’t wait for the weeks coming.
Me: Right. Not good for a possible little one in my tummy.
Mitt: But I have deep-dish pepperoni pizza.
My stomach growled in delight.
Me: I’ll be there soon.
I dropped my cell phone into my purse and peered out the front door. There wasn’t a snowflake in sight, and someone had plowed the lane after the last blizzard. All I had to do was walk outside to my car, but there was a limousine parked out front. I didn’t recall Mitt’s order for Albert to drive me to him.
Confused, I opened the front door without grabbing my car keys and made my way toward the vehicle in question. As I got closer, someone stepped out, and I assumed it was Albert but his reluctance to greet me made me uneasy. Albert always took his job seriously, no matter what mood I was in. Maybe my bitter attitude over the last few weeks had gotten to him, but the idea of him stepping back from certain duties made me sad.
What the hell was wrong with Albert?
Instead of heading to the far back door, I went to the driver’s side and tapped on the tinted glass. The window rolled down without hesitation, and to my surprise, I didn’t see Albert behind the wheel. Instead, there was a thin man who seemed far too young to have any experience as a chauffeur. His lack of knowledge definitely showed because he didn’t even wear a hat like Albert did.
I missed the old man already.
