Page 96 of Princess of Pride
Is he being truthful? “I’m listening.”
“For one night, I want your complete submission. I want your virginity. I want to watch as you take every inch of my cock into your tight, sweet body. Because it’s mine, Emery, and no one else’s. Mine to take, mine to claim, mine to ruin.”
Good god. Each word causes my sex to pulse and my panties to soak. Part of me wants this too. Another part fears I’ll never leave that bed. “If I do all that, you’ll let me go?”
“If you still want to leave.” He dusts fake lint from his pants.
“How do I know I can believe you?”
He quirks a brow. “To deliver?”
Does he have to say it in that sexy voice like he’s a romance voice actor? “To keep your word and let me go back home?” America is home, regardless of the house I’m in there.
He leans forward. “You’ll have to trust me.”
I give him a pointed look.
“Would you prefer a blood oath?” He murmurs something in Gaelic that’s made even sexier by his intense aqua stare.
“What did you say?” I ask, a bit breathless.
“You are blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I pledge to you my living and dying, equally in your care.”
Oh hell. If he were to talk like that while we’re having sex, I would tie myself to his own bed. “Do you mean it?” Stupid question asked by a silly woman.
A tiny smirk twists the corner of his mouth. “It’s a Celtic wedding vow. I would have pledged it to you at the alter had you been paying attention.”
That day resurfaces in my head, fuzzy and filled with turmoil. I was angry with everyone—Mom, Pippa, my dad, but mostly Lachlan for lying to me. For bringing my worst fear to life—I married a man I’m attracted too, a man I could fall for, and a man who wants me too—sexually anyway.
“It’s your fault,” I murmur, my gaze a blur on the desk.
He chuckles deep in his throat and sits back. “How is it my fault?”
I glance up in time to see his bright white teeth and smile.
“You left and didn’t come back until the wedding day. I had zero time with you. If I had the chance to get to know you better and to learn you weren’tgay?—”
“Like you assumed,” he interjects.
My gaze narrows. “…I wouldn’t have been in shock. I could have prepared myself for… you.” I gesture to his ridiculously gorgeous face and sculpted body.
“We could always do it again.” He stands.
“Do what?” Get married?
He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. I tilt my head back and meet his amused stare. “Take as long as you need to read what I sent you and accept my terms but know this: I do not think we’re better apart. And I’ll be kissing you senselessly every day, multiple times a day, whenever the mood strikes meso you can practice your breathing. You’ll need it for the night I consume every inch of your body.”
With that, his lips meet mine, hungrily like he’s been waiting to do this. Like he’s been missing it. He fists my braid and tugs my head back farther while plunging his tongue into my mouth, rolling it in ways that have me panting. He twists my other hand behind my back and holds me closer, possessing me and sending a clear message.Hedecides when this kiss ends.
I don’t resist him, although I’m not sure why. I like it? I want it? I missed this too?
For two weeks, I told myself I didn’t miss anything about him. Had I been lying to myself?
His hard cock presses against my lower belly. I want to rub against it.
“I can’t wait to trace every inch of this delectable skin with my tongue,” he murmurs between kisses, and I almost faint.
I’ll never survive him. “Lachlan?” I mean to ask him something, but it’s gone the moment I say his name.
