Page 72 of To Tango, with Desire

“The things I want to do to you, Amira . . .”

I held my dress against my body. I was naked underneath except for the scrap of underwear and my garter.

I gasped, turning to face him. “The garter! We forgot to toss it.”

“Allow me.” Zane knelt on the floor. “Open your legs.”

I did so, a little too eager to feel his touch. He ducked under my dress and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I yelped as his fingers circled my ankle, but managed to stifle a moan when his lips grazed the inner part of my bare thigh. My bare toes gripped the soft, plush carpet beneath my feet.

“A—are you using your teeth?” I whispered, feeling his mouth brushing against me.

I ached for that mouth. For his teeth and tongue to do all the wicked things I’d dreamed of over the past few months.

When Zane emerged, triumphant, I gripped the bodice of my gown.

“Need help taking off anything else?” He stood, facing me, the invitation hanging in the air between us.

I shook my head.

“Then I’ll say goodnight, wife.”

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against mine. It was a soft, teasing kiss. And before it went too far, he pulled back.

“I’ll see you in bed. And I promise not to bite, unless you beg.” He winked.

Taking off his jacket, he walked over to his closet. And I walked over to mine.

It was going to be the first of many long, sleepless nights.

AMIRA

I woke up with a start. Immediately, I knew Zane wasn’t beside me.

Turning over, I touched his side of the bed—still warm. He hadn’t been gone long then. Blinking, I shivered. I’d fallen asleep wrapped up in his arms and had felt peace that was unexpected, given our situation. Or maybe it was post-wedding exhaustion.

It was odd to think that I was now a married woman. I swung my legs out of the bed, playing with the rings on my finger.

I looked over my shoulder and could see the bathroom light was on, the door slightly ajar. Slowly, I walked over to it and was about to nudge it open when I heard Zane groan. From this angle, I could see him in the shower, the water sluicing down his muscled back.

Was he—

My mouth fell open and I eased the door open a fraction. He had one hand pressed against the shower wall, but the other was obscured from my vision. By the jerking of his shoulder, I knew exactly what he was doing.

I watched in fascination as he groaned again, pumping his cock. I wanted to see him hard and thick and aroused, to watch his face as he came. But I was going to have to settle for a view of his ass, tight and bunched as he pleasured himself. And what a view. The guy—my husband—was ripped. Tall and muscular and so damn hot, it kind of hurt to look at him.

Lusting after him wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to do this right. I’d already learned so much about him, so really it was a good thing that we had this ban in place.

Really good.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to step back.

“Amira.”

Oh shit. I froze, drawn back to the gap in the door.

Heart pumping in my chest, I heard him again. Low and guttural, he said my name, caught in his own pleasure. Igniting my own.