She looked him right in the eyes as she spoke, and the sincere regret he saw in her face just about melted him.
“You trusted me, Kitten. You always have and you always will. Do you think I don’t know that?”
One shoulder rose and fell. “I doubted you, Hunter. I really did. And I hate myself for it.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You don’t have a thing to apologize for. You were jealous and confused, and that’s on me. I should have called and told you the moment I recognized her in the video feed. I didn’t, and,” he added with a hint of a smile, “I deserved every lash that well-honed temper of yours doled out. Okay?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
A tear snaked down her cheek. “For always getting me.”
“Well, Kitten, it’s been a long course of study. But I do enjoy getting educated.”
She started to laugh, but he silenced her with a kiss, relishing the taste of Jamie mixed with whiskey. A familiar taste and one he never tired of.
He started the kiss slow, but it didn’t stay that way. His wife was responsive as hell and always had been. Her lips parted in a silent demand that he kiss her harder. At the same time, her fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer in an equally strong demand that he deepen their kiss. Their connection.
She squirmed on the couch, her soft moans shooting straight to his cock, and all he wanted in that moment was to claim her. To take her right there. To hold her hair as she sucked him off, then take her hard and fast as she screamed his name.
He wanted to own her. He wanted to do every dirty thing he could think of to her, just to prove she was his. Just for the joy of knowing that she would obey. More than that, that she wanted to.
But he couldn’t. Not now. Not tonight.
She deserved sweet kisses and soft caresses. And he wanted to show her how much he loved her. How much he cherished her.
She was his life, his love, and he’d brought her pain today. Not intentionally, but that didn’t matter. Tonight, he was going to hold back on his urge to claim her.
Tonight, he was simply going to make love to his wife.
Chapter Ten
“With me,” Ryan says as he stands, holding out a hand for me. I take it and follow, eager for whatever he has in mind. He pauses at the foot of the bed, then lets his gaze roam over me. He comes closer, then takes the hem of my T-shirt and starts to pull it up. “You, Kitten, are wearing far too many clothes.”
“No argument from me,” I say, my finger going to the buttons on my jeans. I shimmy out of them, taking my panties too. Then I kick them free of my feet and stand there, hyperaware of my body as I wait for Ryan to tell me what to do.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, then urges me onto the bed with him. I follow, then suck in air as his tongue teases my nipple before he closes his mouth over my breast and gently sucks while his fingertips caress the curve of my waist.
It’s sweet and loving and tender—and it’s not at all what I want.
I squirm a little, hoping he’ll slide his hand down to my cunt and finger fuck me hard or tease my ass or even bite my nipple. I want to feel electricity tingle inside me. I want to be on fire.
I want him to do every dirty thing we’ve ever done and then some. Because as wonderful as making love with my husband can be, right now, I need to be taken. Fucked.
I need to be owned, and while I know I should just tell Ryan that, what I want is for him to know it. To understand me the way that he always has before.
I know why I want it—other than the fact that I will always, eagerly submit to Ryan. But this is more than that. I get that it’s because of Felicia. I know that some part of me is fighting in protest against the thought that there’s ever been another woman, much less a wife.
His hands still roam my body, and he claims my mouth in a gentle kiss. It’s tender, loving, and I moan with genuine pleasure as his lips trail kisses down my neck. I’m turned on—hell, yes, I am—but I want more. Need more. And I pull gently away and meet his eyes.
For a moment, we only look at each other. Then I feel something shift. A change in the air. In the temperature of the room. There’s heat now. Electricity.
“Hunter,” I say, but he interrupts me.
“No. I talk. You do what I say. Understood?”
God, yes. I almost come right then. Instead, I say, very clearly, “Yes, Sir.”
I’m practically giddy with relief. He knows. Somehow he always knows exactly what I need.
He gets off the bed, leaving me on the mattress. He’s still in his suit, and now he takes his jacket off along with his tie. He tosses the jacket over a chair, but the tie he keeps in his hands. “Lean back, Kitten. Hands on the mattress. That’s my girl,” he says when I comply. “Now spread your knees and put the soles of your feet together.”
I do, feeling the incredible stretch in my inner thighs. And the heat of my pussy, fully exposed to him.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “And wet,” he adds, easily sliding two fingers into me as if to prove the point.
“What toys did you bring?” he asks, and my whole body responds from nothing more than the tone in his voice.
“I—toys?”
He chuckles, then slides me closer to the end of the mattress so that my toes are just peeking over.
“Toys,” he repeats, getting on his knees, then tugging me forward until my cunt is right over his mouth. His tongue laves me as his hands hold my thighs open, keeping me firmly in place.
“I know you, Kitten,” he whispers between lashes of his tongue. “Tell me where they are and I’ll look for myself.”
“Don’t you have any here?”
“For all the other women I fuck?” He kisses the inside of my thighs, the stubble of his beard on my sensitive skin feeling amazing. “Is that what you’re telling me? Do you want to watch me touch another woman?”
I shake my head. “No.” There was a time when watching a guy with another woman would have turned me on. But not now. Not with Ryan. With him, I don’t share. “Never,” I say.
It occurs to me that if he really wants to push the envelope—wants to prove just how thoroughly he owns me—he could bring in another man to fuck me while he watches. “You don’t…?”
“I don’t,” Ryan says, obviously reading my mind. “But what humbles me is knowing that you would if I wanted it. Wouldn’t you?”
I nod. Because God help me, if that’s what he wanted, I would. But I don’t want to. I don’t want anyone’s touch but Ryan’s.
“Good girl.” He rewards me with a kiss, and his fingers slide inside me. Greedily, I hump his hand, feeling like I truly have been a good girl, but all too soon he pulls his fingers free, leaving me hot and needy and longing to be fucked, teased, spanked, everything. Right now, I’m nothing but need, and I want to melt into Ryan’s arms and let him use me to satisfy every one of his wicked cravings.
“Come on, Kitten. Tell me. Where are they?”
“Pink rolling bag,” I concede, shooting him a grimace when he chuckles.
He takes the tie that he’s been holding and secures it over my eyes. I consider telling him I have a blindfold in the bag but decide I should keep my mouth closed. Then he tells me to stand.