Elexia Donovan is my very existence.
I will prove it to her every moment. Ravenous for her, I sink my cock in, pushing the head past her entrance. When I hover above her lips, she bites the lower one and sets our bound hands on the table. On the edge of the table, her legs gloriously spread and her body ready to receive me, my wife’s head drops to her shoulders. A delicate, delicious arch. Chest thrust up. Nipples hardened to elongated points, desperate for my mouth. Firelight bathes her flesh.
Bolts of heat overthrow me at the sight of her glowing like a Celtic goddess, all molten gold and wild promise, daring any mortal man not to fall to his knees.
Inch by inch, I sink into her until I’m fully seated.
“Sir…”
She lifts her head, sultry bedroom eyes burning clear through my soul.
She sees a redemption arc. She sees a man who could be saved. But the gospel truth? She will redeem me every moment of every day. Because I’ve found my purpose in possessing and protecting her.
So, I move. Harder than the time on the bed—not just making love anymore. This is me fucking her, rutting her, driving myself so deep into her, no God or the Devil himself could ever wrench us apart.
Every moment is better than the last.
Without stopping, I trail my lips down her arched throat. I scrape my teeth along her lovely skin, rocking her deep andviolent. My body quakes with the need to jet into her, but I’m holding the tidal wave back.
Her free hand works its way into my curls, and I groan as I suck her breast, laving the peaked nipple with my tongue. Once I’ve licked, sucked, tongued, and teethed those nipples till they’re swollen rubies, I clutch her pretty arse and eject myself to the tip. Our gazes collide as I pause here, taking her in.
She holds my lower arm, gripping tight, then peers down at my erection. “Are you going to make me beg?”
“Beg for what, Mrs. Donovan?” I lean in, cheek brushing hers, then whisper in her ear, “What do ye want of me?” I pull back just a little.
Her lips pull into a glower, both feminine and feral. Just like the library, she sucks me in, my demanding savior. “For fuck’s sake, Liam, please just give it to me. Give me everything,” she snarls, teeth bared. A vow she’ll bite me again. Hell if I can’t wait for that.
Her claws come out, the free hand scraping the back of my neck and tugging at the ends of my hair. “Fuck me with every bone in your body and every breath in your lungs,” she commands like the queen she is. “Let me feel it all. Take everything else away. Just us.”
“Well, in that case…”
I unleash years of Family chains binding me. With every ruthless thrust, I break them and feed her my cock, ramming in and out, shaking us both to our core. I impale her again and again, rocking hard as thunder. I’ll be fucking her long into the night. Only a few periods of respite to take care of my goddess.
Her pretty arse bounces as her hips try to match my rhythm. Her gorgeous tits swing against my chest. I’m a man starved for her, ravaging her. Like the sea itself had shaped her and set her before me as a test of devotion.
I fuck her on the table until we both crash together, riding the tides of our climaxes.
I bend her over the counter and fuck her against it, her hair coiled around one hand while the other holds her fingers against her clit, drawing circles until those inner muscles spasm around me again.
I take her down on the couch, one leg over my shoulder, while I lick her to oblivion—and maybe surprise her with a few honeymoon toys. Not replacements but gifts.
And Lexie…she shows me what it feels like to be loved by a real woman, a wife hellbent on riding and feasting on what belongs to her. By the time she’s done with me, I’m not just a new man. I’m her husband in the truest sense—body, soul, and every dark corner of me surrendered to her.
An hour before dawn, we find ourselves wrapped in fresh blankets on the couch, her front to my chest this time. I listen to her heavy pants, adorable mewls, and the moan she makes when she rubs her face along my chest.
“Lexie…” I summon her.
“What?” she mumbles, her lids still closed.
I kiss the top of her head and hold her stronger. “I will spend the rest of my life lovin’ you.”
“Hmm…” she yawns. “Likewise.”
And if I ever commit a wrong, because they’ll come, so they will, as is the nature of any two souls bound so tight, I will gladly fall to my knees. I will grovel, and I will worship at her feet. Not as some book character looking for a way out of the dark, but as the doting, dominant husband who knows he’s been given a gift from the gods.
“Thank ye for kidnapping me, my sweet savior,” I hum against the side of her head, smiling to myself because she’s already out. “Sleep well, mo Róisín.”
CHAPTER 29
