Page 65 of Stolen Vows
“If you go any lower,” he rasps, “you’ll create a problem you might not be able to fix.”
I move my chin, looking up at him. His eyes are still closed, but his face has lost that passive quality. A vein in his forehead strains.
“Did I not prove last night that I’m very capable of a solution to this particular problem?” I purr.
He grunts, and then in the next second, he’s sliding his arms around me and yanking me up, twisting my body so I’m straddling his waist. I squeak, immediately covering my breasts with my forearms and desperately attempting to ignore the erection pressing below me.
“Should we make sure it wasn’t a fluke?”
My face heats, a mix of arousal and shame scorching my skin. “I…I wouldn’t know what to do.”
One of his brows arches. “Suddenly, you’re above learning?”
“Don’t you think we should get back to the auction? People are going to wonder where I went, and I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“My, how we’ve changed our tune so quickly. A few orgasms, and you’re finally concerned with my well-being?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “If you cause problems, they’ll inevitably trickle down to me. That’s all I meant.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy; I can handle trouble.” He yanks my arms away from my chest, drinking in the sight of my bare breasts. The liquid fire in his gaze kindles something dark and twisted in my gut, making me tremble. “Now let me handleyou. Crawl up here and sit that pretty cunt on my face.”
Horror zaps through me. “What?”
He grins. “You heard me.”
My limbs lock up as I continue staring at him, but a flood of warmth spreads down my spine like drizzled honey. Still, I feel stuck, torn by the knowledge of the pleasure he’s able to wring from me and the haphazard belief that I don’t want anything to do with him.
How many times do you have to repeat something before it becomes true? Am I protesting because I genuinely can’t see this marriage working, given the shoddy deal it was built on and the distance between us since? Or am I clinging to that because it feels like there’s nothing else that makes sense?
Maybe I reject Leo because it feels right to. It feels likeme.
And maybe I don’t want to admit that I haven’t felt likemesince I left Boston seven years ago.
Not really.
Something has always been missing. Something that feels less out of reach here, in his embrace.
Leaning forward, I awkwardly move my knees, crawling up his torso like he asked. My heart is a kick drum beating against my ribs, and he shifts under me, sliding lower on the bed. Once I’m halfway up his stomach, he grabs my hips and manhandles me; I have to catch myself on the headboard to keep from hitting it, and then to steady my quaking arms.
His lips and nose line up directly with my pussy, and I cover my mouth to avoid revealing how vulnerable I feel.
“Sit, baby.” It’s unnerving how gentle his voice is compared to the roughness of his grip. “You’re not gonna hurt me. Not like this anyway.”
My fingers scrape against the headboard, and I start to lower myself inch by inch. Apparently growing impatient, Leo squeezes and yanks me down, sealing his mouth to me so thoroughly that I cry out with the unexpected heat of him.
“Oh myGod.”
He lifts my hips for a moment, his eyebrows drawing in. “Are you asking for forgiveness?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Keeping your cunt from me all this time qualifies as a deadly sin, I’m afraid.” Another lick, just the tip of his tongue againstme, and my thighs quiver. “So go ahead and pray,stellina. I’m the only one who can grant you mercy.”
My chin almost touches my chest as I peer down at him, my heart thrashing inside against my ribs. “You’re not my god.”
A long pause ensues as he seems to contemplate this. His eyes darken, hot sparks ebbing within his irises. “No, but you’re mine. You’re right in that you don’t need forgiveness—Ido. Let me repent.”
I can’t breathe when he looks at me like this or when he says these things. Instead, I just nod, and he moves back in, devouring me slowly, like we have all the time in the world.
