Page 147 of Butter My Biscuit

“It started when I knew I was losing you. You’d tell me I was being stupid, and then it’d turn sexual, and I’d wake up, aching for you.”

I shake my head. “The Harrison Valentine Kiss of Death strikes again. Workseverytime.”

She fists her fingers through my hair and grinds against me, stealing wet kisses every chance she gets. “Did you wear that navy suit to your rehearsal dinner for me?”

“So, we’ve started Nothing But Truths?You sure you’re ready?” I smirk, allowing her to back out, to stop this game before we start it. “I won’t go easy on you, princess. It will get raw.”

“We both need this,” she confirms with a nod as I grip her ass, feeling the weight of her against me as I grow thick. “So?”

I meet her gaze. “Yeah, I did. I wanted it to destroy you. I wanted you to remember every single time I’d worn it this year and how you’d ended up beneath me.”

A moan escapes her as she keeps her rhythm. “It worked. And I hated you for it,” she admits. Then, she’s whispering in my ear, “I hope you packed it.”

“I did.” I take claim of her mouth. “You weren’t innocent though. You wore myfavoritecolor. And made damn sure that dress fit you like a second skin so I could see every torturous curve. It’s like you wanted me to notice how hard your nipples got when you were around me.”

“I’m a monster,” she says, placing her forehead against mine. “Did it work?”

“Fuck yes,” I say with a growl, loving how she feels against me. How her breaths soften and her eyes flutter closed.

Her head falls back on her shoulders, and she grabs my T-shirt. “Did you think of me when she was wearing my perfume?”

I dig my thumbs into her hips as we spiral together. “Yes. Every single time.”

“I hated smelling you on her,” she hisses, her breath growing more ragged. “It drove me insane.”

“Take what you need, princess,” I urge, rubbing my thumb against her clit as she rocks against my restricted cock. I feel like I might burst through the seams of the worn jeans as I buck against her, adding more friction against that needy little clit.

“I’m so fucking close, but I need more of you. I can never get enough. I’m addicted to you,” she mutters, her body tensing as my mouth slides up her neck.

Seconds later, she’s gasping and shattering with my name on her lips. I hold her against me, allowing her to come down from her high, and we stay like that for a few minutes. With her on my lap, as we cruise the streets of Paris at night.

“We’re almost to the hotel,” I whisper, hard as a fucking rock, knowing exactly how much time we had from the airport if there was no traffic, but also not wanting her to move.

I like holding her like this, like we’re frozen in a moment of time. It’s almost as if she has to peel herself away from me, and I understand. I just need to be with her, to hold her, to make sure she knows that what we have isn’t going anywhere.

“I owe you one.” She smiles with hooded eyes and messy hair, then settles down next to me, drinking the champagne straight from the bottle before handing it to me.

I press it to my lips and sip. “For how much you fuckin’ tortured me over the years, you owe me a thousand.”

The limo smells like her pleasure, which is also written all over her face. Five minutes later, the car slows, and the door swings open. Our bags are carried to the front desk, and we silently take an elevator to the top floor. When I open the door to our honeymoon suite that has the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, she smiles, but it slightly falters. She doesn’t even have to say what she’s thinking—I know.

I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her body and kissing the back of her head. “I’m here with you right now. That’s all that matters.”

She turns, and she grips my T-shirt with tight fists. “Do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“With a single glance.” I sit her on the edge of the bed and kneel in front of her. We’re almost eye to eye. “And you know it goes both ways. One look, and you’re in my damn head, reading my thoughts. Like right now, what am I thinking?”

She scrolls down to my mouth, studying it before grinning. “You’re thinking about how you want to lay me down on this bed and worship my body.”

“Nailed it.” I shrug, placing my hands on her thighs and looking up into her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t.”

“You promised nothing but truths,” I say, interlocking my hands with hers and kissing her fingers. “If I couldn’t have you, I wanted to erase you. Every part of you. Every memory. The sound of your laugh. All of our traditions. How your hair blows with the window down in the summertime. Your perfume. The way you whisper my name when you come. Or how your body fits so perfectly against mine when we sleep. I was fucking destroyed. The thought of there not being a chance for us when I believed there was no other choice nearly killed me. I was ready to burn down the entire world without a single regret. And I would’ve without a distraction. I was reckless and should’ve never let it go so far. There was never a chance I’d have gotten over you even if I were with someone else.”

She places my face in her hands. “I wanted to do the same.”

“Are you still moving away?” I rub my finger against her cheek.

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