What?Why is she thinking abouthimright now?
I take a second to clear my head. To cool off enough to answer her random question.
“Yes,” I admit, dipping my face to her tender neck for a nibble. “He was a monster, a butcher, and I take pride in having ended his life. I’ll never apologize for that.”
Her pulse visibly flutters. “You remind me of him,” she breathes the admission, so low I almost don’t hear her. But I do.
I rear back, shock rippling through me.What the fuck?Her comment feels like being doused with ice water.
“Look, I may not have the best personality, but I amnothinglike him. You hear me? Nothing.” I grind my teeth. How can she think I’m anything like that piece of shit?
Though, in all honesty, have I been anything other than demanding and cruel since our wedding? Apart from the sex last night, have I been kind, caring, or generous? Not really.
I shouldn’t have said what I did about her brother at dinner. All I wanted to do was push her away—it worked, all too well. Regret sears my chest.
Her soft, pleading voice soothes some of my hurt. “Show me. Show me that you’re not cruel. That you don’t get off on tormenting or threatening me. Show me that you’d never hurt me. Because all I’ve seen of you so far is someone very much like my brother—and I hated him.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?
Anger heats my blood. What did her brother do to her? Did he hurt her? It sure sounds like it. My vision tints with red. I wish he were alive so I could kill him all over again.
Stroking her hair, I stare deep into her blue-grey eyes. “Broc meala, I will show you that I am, deep down, a much better man.”
“Prove it.” The desperation in her voice guts me. How can I deny her wish? We’re married. We’re in this together for life.
“That’s a challenge I’ll accept.” I claim her mouth in a ravenous kiss. She trembles beneath my touch.
Threading her fingers through my hair, she deepens our kiss. She wants this, she wants me, and damn if I have the strength to deny her any longer.
Has my resolve to distance myself from her fallen like a house of cards? Yes, it has.
Do I give a shit? No, I don’t.
One look from this woman, one word, and she’s under my skin. When I have her in my arms like this, whimpering and writhing against my straining cock, tasting like heaven, I can’t think straight. Nor do I want to, consequences be damned.
The full moon’s light shines through the gauzy curtains, softly illuminating us. Elena hastily unbuttons my shirt, like she can’t wait to feel my skin, scars and all, and I’m drunk on her desire.
Grabbing the front of her dress, I rip it in two, from her neckline to her waist. I bought the thing, I can destroy it if I like.
Her surprised gasp, and full breasts spilling into my hands, are worth every penny.
Playing with her peaked nipples, I suck her bottom lip between my teeth. She moans, grinding her needy cunt againstme as her hands explore my chest and shoulders, face and hair. It’s like she can’t get enough.
“Please,” she moans, “I need you inside of me. Now.”
I doubt she’s ready for me yet.
With one hand supporting her ass, I slip the other between her thighs to find her pretty pussy thoroughly soaked. She’s dripping wet.
I groan. Quickly unzipping my trousers, I release my cock and line myself up. I don’t know if she can take me or not, but I want to try. Slowly.
She whimpers as I push into her tight cunt. Fuck, she feels like paradise—this is heaven, right here on earth.
“Tell me to stop if it’s too much. I can get the lube?—”
“More. I need more.” She pulls me closer.
Hope rockets through my chest as I give her more. I give her every thick inch of me, and she rocks her hips, moaning in pleasure. She’s perfect. There’s no doubt in my mind that she was made for me, and only me.
