Page 94 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

“Oh, I know,” I gasped out, his tongue swiping up my torso and toward my breast. “But I thought I’d taught you to be a little more spontaneous.”

He came to a stand and bent his head to take a breast in his mouth, moaning. My hands went to his hair, and I tangled my fingers in his thick, wavy strands. He sucked harder, and I arched into him.

He still wore his trousers, his hard length straining against the fabric, and I rocked my pelvis into him, rubbing and getting a taste of the friction I desperately needed.

His teeth nipped at my neck, tongue flicking out. “You just can’t listen, can you?”

“No,” I said. “You might like your plans, but my favorite thing is disrupting them.” I palmed his cock, and he let out a feral groan, his hands going to my hips.

I yanked his trousers down, and he kicked them off, and finally there was nothing between us. He hooked his hand under my thigh and lifted it. I wrapped it around his back, tugging him as close as I possibly could, his hard length pressing right into my entrance, stretching it open.

We both moaned at the same time, and he thrust into me in one quick motion.

“You want to know another secret?” he said, slowly pulling out.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but nod.

“I like when you disrupt my plans.” He thrust into me again, the movement hard and demanding, and I wanted every bit of it.

He stopped, pulling out and whirling me around, bending me over so that I was staring at our reflection in the mirror. “I want you to see exactly what you do to me.” He gripped my hips tight, fingers digging into my waist, and he pushed into me from behind.

My lips parted, plump and red, my eyes wild, and my hair mussed.

“Now eyes on me, Aoife,” Lor said as he thrust harder, and for possibly the first time ever, I listened to my husband and watched him.

Sweat beaded his skin, his muscles corded, his eyes completely black. He looked like a man possessed. My fingers went between my legs, and I rubbed that bundle of nerves as Lor’s movement became frantic. His jaw clenched, brows furrowed, and he slammed into me again and again, rattling the table underneath me.

“Fuck, Aoife,” he groaned out. “You’re so tight, and you take me so fucking good.” His thrusts punctuated his words.

Pleasure ricocheted through me, every thrust bringing me closer to my release. I kept my gaze on Lor, watching the way he lost himself in me. This man who was so controlled, so rigid in every part of his life, was coming undone because of me, and I loved it. I loved that he could be vulnerable with me, that he trusted me enough to give up the control he always seemed to need. His hips snapped as he slammed into me again and again, and my fingers pressed harder into my center, the movements faster and faster, in time with Lor.

“I’m going to come,” he said. “I’m going to—” He let out a string of curse words as his body went taut. He looked so unbelievably beautiful as he came apart, mouth parted, eyes feral, cheeks flushed.

His gaze locked on mine in the mirror, and that was all it took for my release to rip through me. I cried out as he pulsed inside of me, hands gripping me tight, and I ground my ass against him, wringing the last drops of his seed from him.

He bent over and pressed a kiss to my back, then slipped out of me. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and I straightened unable to look away as he walked toward the bath chamber, his muscled back and sculpted ass truly a sight to behold.

He returned a minute later with a damp cloth and gently wiped my thighs, cleaning me with such care, such tenderness that I wasn’t sure how I ever could’ve denied that I loved him, how I ever could’ve not known what this was between us.

Afterward we lay down on the thick rug in front of a crackling hearth, Lor settling his big body behind me, winding his arm around my waist.

He nuzzled my neck with his nose, and I turned to face him. “Do you know what day it is?” I asked.

His brows furrowed.

I traced his strong, straight nose, and he shuddered. “It’s the day one of us is supposed to cede our crown or be forever bound to each other.”

His face grew serious, that mask slipping over that he’d perfected so well. The mask I now saw through. “Both of us ruling together,” he said. “How does that make you feel?”

“Not nearly as terrified as I thought I’d be.”

He smiled. “That’s an improvement, at least.”

“I feel . . . free.” My breath hitched on the word, but I realized it was true. I didn’t feel trapped or bound or chained or any of the other hundreds of feelings I’d had during my lifetime. I was free to be the queen I wanted to be, free to be the wife I wanted to be, free to be me, and it felt impossibly right.

Lor leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. Heat stirred between my legs, and I shifted so that my entrance lined up with his cock, already stiffening against me. His eyes flashed, and he gripped my leg, pushing it upward until we were at the perfect angle for him to slide into me.

This time, we moved slow, savoring each other, kissing and whispering, stopping to touch each other, to explore each other’s bodies. I rocked against him, loving the feel of his hard length rubbing against my center as he slowly pulled out and thrust back in. My release came first, and that was all it took for Lor to unravel. He fisted my hair and told me how much he loved me while he pulsed into me.