Jealousy and rage scalded his insides. For so long, he’d thought of her as exclusively his. His virgin bride, his precious wife, his one and only love. To accept that she’d lain with others and that she’dliedto him about it…
Everything I did was because I loved you so much and knew that you’d never love me back as Pandora Smith.
Bloody hell,wouldhe have married her had he known the truth of her origins and all that she’d done? His gut knotted; he didn’t know the answer. Yet the thought of never having been wed to her, never knowing the love and laughter and passion they’d shared, never having the boys…
His eyes shut, his head falling back against the tub. It was too bloody much to contend with. Pressure roiled in his head, his groin. God, he just needed to release some of his pent-up frustration…
He fisted himself again. He tried to summon up a fantasy that didn’t involve Penny… but it was impossible. From the moment they’d met, she’d been his every desire. His one and only. Cursing himself a fool, he couldn’t deny that the past month hadn’t changed that fact for him one whit. He still lusted after his damned wife. A woman who’d made a fool of him. He frigged himself harder, the water slapping against the tub. Her name wrenched from him in a tortured groan as his pleasure spiked, his balls tautening.
“Marcus?”
His eyes snapped open; his gaze locked with Penny’s through the haze of steam. Heart pounding, his blood rushing hot in his veins, for one disorienting moment, he didn’t know whether this was part of his fantasy or reality. The distinction didn’t become any clearer when she shrugged off her robe, revealing a sensual slip of creamy satin and lace. She untied the bow on her left shoulder, his mouth watering as the bodice fell, revealing one perfect round breast crowned with a ripe cherry nipple. She untied the bow on her other shoulder, and the negligee fell completely to join her robe on the floor.
“I miss you so much,” she whispered.
Hell. Bloody fucking hell.
His vision darkened, and the next instant, he was out of the tub. He didn’t have time to think, didn’t want to. His primal instinct took over, and he reached for what was his.
~~~
Relief. Desire. Excitement.
The emotions hit her simultaneously, a barrage that left her breathless.
Her pulse leapt as Marcus stalked toward her, water sluicing off his lean, hard form—and by all that was holy, he was hardeverywhere. Her gaze dipped to his groin, and her knees quivered. His cock was huge and thick, boldly erect, his bollocks swinging heavily between his muscled thighs as he prowled towards her. Jerking her gaze back up, she saw his eyes were smoldering and heavy-lidded.
All man, her husband.
Everything she’d ever wanted.
He reached for her at the same time that she reached for him. Their bodies collided, the impact of hard and soft sending a shock of pleasure through her system. His kiss was crushing, equal parts hunger and anger, and she didn’t care. Having him back was more than she deserved. More than she’d hoped for when she made her daring play a moment ago. Moaning, she reached up, winding her arms around his neck, closing the distance between them in the only way she knew how.
An instant later, she was driven backward, her back meeting with hard smooth tile. Her neck arched against the wall as his lips closed around her nipple—not gently as he’d done in the past but with a ferocity that made her gasp aloud. The edge of his teeth grazed her, and her pussy clenched. When he suckled hard, wetness gushed between her legs.
Then his mouth was back on hers, claiming and savage, and the glory of it made her wild. Her fingers tangling in his wet hair, she rubbed herself shamelessly against him, whimpering as her budded nipples dragged against the taut planes of his chest, the wiry hair an exquisite friction. Lower, she felt his poker-hard staff prodding her belly, so she pressed even closer, wanting it, wantinghimwith every fiber of who she was.
All of a sudden, she was lifted off the ground, her back against the wall, Marcus between her spread legs. His eyes glittering, he notched his cock to her and brought her down on the rearing shaft. All the way. So deep his head nudged her womb. No sooner had the pleasured whimper left her then he did it again, lifting her and slamming her down on his rod.
On the third rise and fall, she flew apart. Her entire being convulsed around the thickness holding her aloft, piercing her very core, the heart of who she was. Through the misty bliss, she heard him grunt, the slapping of flesh as he drove into her again and again. She held onto him, her hands clutching his bunching biceps, her legs circling his flexing hips, so she felt and heard his fulfillment. His powerful body quaked against her, his groan reverberating against the tiles.
Dazed, happy, she inhaled the scent of him, stroked the slick muscles of his back. It was heaven to be with him this way again. Words tumbled through her head.
I love you. I’ve missed you. Forgive me, and I swear I won’t lie to you again.
She searched for the right thing to say.
He pulled out so abruptly that she gasped. Her feet landed on the slippery tiles, and the moment she gained her balance, he let her go. Leaning over, he retrieved her clothes from the ground.
“Get dressed.” He tossed the items at her.
She caught them out of reflex, clutching the satin to her chest. Happiness evaporated the instant she saw Marcus’ face. Hard jaw, harder eyes. He turned from her, and wrapping a towel around his waist, headed for the doorway.
Stunned, she said, “Where are you going?”
“Out,” he said curtly.
“But after we… I mean, we just…” she stammered, “we ought to talk…”
