“It’s different with you.”
I love you.
The words fought for freedom as he patted my arm, pink in the cheeks.
After we landed, the cab took us to a small apartment over a cobblestoned street in the Marais. Vinn stopped at a grocery store for cold cuts, cheese, and a baguette. Then he took our suitcases up the narrow staircase into a dingy flat.
“I know it’s not a five-star hotel, but this is the better way to travel. Trust me.” He slid the bread over the kitchen table and washed his hands. “You want lunch?”
I grasped him from behind. I held him for a solid minute, refusing to release when he gently pulled at my arms.
Vinn tensed. “You letting me go anytime this century?”
“Nope.”
“All right then.”
He guided us into the bedroom with me trailing him. I laughed as we faced the tiniest double bed.
“That can fit one of my ass-cheeks, maybe.”
“We’ll make it work.” He yanked me on the mattress.
“Have you been to Paris before?”
He nodded. “A few times.”
“Did you go with someone?”
“With a girl, you mean?” Vinn’s mouth curled as heat stole over my face. “No. Never wanted to.”
My pulse pounded. “Why not?”
“Nico gave me advice once. About marriage. I took it to heart, I guess.” Vinn's fingers trailed my temple. “If you find a woman you think is the one, travel the world with her. Visit places that are hard to get to. And when you come back to Boston, if you're still speaking to her, marry her at the airport.”
“But you did everything backwards.”
“I figured the fake engagement thing was close enough. Stress either pushes couples apart, or it binds them closer. You and I have that covered. Don't we?”
We did.
My stomach knotted. “Have you ever been in love?”
He hesitated. “No. You?”
I pictured Vinn as a younger man, that beaming smile, his hand closing mine over the shell. Then I thought about his murder confession and all the things I'd done in the name of love.
I met Vinn’s soft eyes, hesitating.
I couldn’t lie to him.
“Yes.”
“Love seems to make people miserable as hell.” He darkened as his gaze dipped to my throat, at the seashell hanging there.
“Sometimes it really hurts.” I gripped his hand, flipping it over to admire the gold band. “It’s like drowning and breathing the sweetest air at the same time. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I smiled at him, but Vinn glowered.
He grabbed my neck. He hovered an inch from me, bristling. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. Don’t you forget it.”
Of course you are, you idiot.
I love you.
Tell him. You’re married.
It made no sense to keep the truth from my husband, except for the violent fear jangling my nerves whenever I opened my mouth. I'd already said I-love-you in so many ways. I'd skipped classes during midterms so he wouldn't be alone while he recovered in the hospital. I should've confessed, but the past decade had thoroughly jaded me.
He would never love me.
Maybe it was beyond him.
I needed to live with that and stop forcing him into a box, but my heart broke at the idea of never being loved. What if I told him, and he patted my shoulder like I’d paid him a nice compliment?
The battle waged within me as we spent the day sightseeing. We visited art museums, kissed under the Eiffel tower, and ate brunch. I had a bounce in my step, but what I looked forward to most was wrapping up the evening in bed.
We retired to the flat after dinner to “rest,” which was code for “fuck” because he pressed me against the wall the second we closed the door.
My pack hit the floor.
His elbow bumped the switch, bathing us in semi-darkness. Outdoor lights slid across Vinn’s face as he gripped my arms. His punishing hold sent a warning shiver through me. I angled my head. He stiffened when I went for the kiss.
Great. He was in a mood.
“What’s got you all bothered?”
He glowered at me, his voice filled with reproach. “Every Frenchman in this city thinks it’s all right to ogle my wife.”
A fierce breeze swept the wings of my butterflies.
I rolled my eyes. “Nobody’s ogling me.”
“You haven’t noticed, but they are.”
“Better not take me to Italy. You know how the men behave over there.”
“Do I ever.”
“Or the South of France. Topless beaches.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Vinn’s hands glided to my waist as he guided us toward the living room. “I’ll have us there in an afternoon just so I could admire the light from the water bouncing off your tits.”
I laughed. “Then everyone else could see me.”
“They would have my permission.”
I gaped at him. “Really?”
“There’s a big difference when I invite others to watch what they will never be allowed to…” he broke off, his fingers brushing my breasts, “touch.”
My blood pounded like an awakened river. He fondled one globe, his thumb teasing my nipple to hardness. I went limp. All day, we'd exchanged chaste kisses because Vinn wasn't a fan of PDA. My body sang as he slipped under my bra. His warmth enveloped my tits, and he squeezed, dragging a moan from me. Then he ripped the shirt over my head. My seashell dangled on my neck.
He gripped the chain. “I will fuck him out of you.”
Good luck with that.
Holding the necklace like a leash, he yanked down.
My knees hit the floor.
His fist balled my hair and the golden string. His expression was tight with strain, as though he'd held off on dominating me, and it had cost him. He smiled, but it was without humor, and the tension grew between us, stretched beyond endurance.
“Who do you belong to?”
My pulse beat erratically. “You. Always.”
“Show me.”
A hot tide surged into my thighs. I stared at him, amazed by the enthusiasm his command gave me. I unzipped his jeans and tugged them down my husband’s gorgeous legs. I stopped to stroke the slab of thigh muscle before splaying over the bulge straining against the fabric.
He was so hard. His briefs didn’t want to come down. I pulled the elastic, and the heavy weight of him dropped into my hand. I leaned forward, hands braced on him. My tongue traced the head throbbing with his heartbeat, and then he tightened his hold. I cringed at the hair-pulling as much as I relished his possession.
He slid inside my mouth, velvet wrapped around steel. He didn't give me time to adjust. Vinn took his pleasure first. A sensual flame ignited in my pussy. Slick arousal pooled into my panties as he sawed my tongue. It was a relief for him to seize control so he could fuck me however he pleased, to submit to this burning ecstasy. We might've not known what to do with our words, but our bodies communicated just fine.
Vinn tapped my cheek. “Do you want them to see?”
I looked at the half-open window, tempting a breeze. We weren't that high above street level. Anybody could glance up and see Vinn taking my mouth.