Page 67 of Outcast’s Vow

“You’re very headstrong, wife,” Baptiste rumbles.

I grab his tie, pulling him toward me, but not rewarding him with a kiss.

No, not yet.

Instead of submitting to his desires, I raise a finger to his lips, hushing him instantly.

“Shut up and let me lead, husband.”

Baptiste’s eyes lock into mine, gleaming green, as I begin to slowly undress my man. Piece by piece. Layer by layer.

First, the buttons of his shirt. He doesn’t move as I unwrap him. He merely watches me with the edges of his lips curled in delight. Then, I unbuckle his belt. Taking my time as I tease him. There’s a delight in how I can rein in this beast. The belt drags before it flutters to the ground.

I look up.

“Now kiss me,” I command.

Baptiste takes my face gently and brings me to him. His kisses are playful. But also relentless.

I feel his smile against my lips.

But I don’t let him take hold. Not completely. Not yet.

“My turn,” I say, flicking my shoes off and unfastening my necklace and jewelry.

But before I can take off my dress, Baptiste rests one hand on my neck, his thumb tenderly rubbing against my collarbone.

“Not all the way,” he hisses in my ear. “Keep it on.”

A shiver runs through me.

My dress straps are half-pulled down. But I’m still not giving up power that effortlessly.

Baptiste leans in to kiss me again, but I tilt back.

And then, before he knows it, I’ve skipped over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, raising my dress up to my thighs, and beckoning him with my eyes.

“Chase me,” I tease. “Come and get me. Let’s christen our new home together.”

He comes to me, grabbing both my wrists with one hand and pinning them above me against the glass. I allow him, lifting my wrists for him, offering them up. With his spare hand, he takes hold of my waist. My palms press against the cold while my chest heaves against his heat. I don’t resist.

I wriggle dramatically against his grip and pout.

“You’re all talk and no action.”

Oh, he hates that. It burns him.

And he reacts.

Protection slides on.

“You shouldn’t test me, Highness. You don’t want to see what I’m capable of.”

“Show me,” I murmur.

And he does.

His spare hand reaches under my dress, splitting open my thighs with manly strength. The sheer power of his grip makes me tremble.