Page 43 of Hidden Heir, Italian Wife

She was pinned to the wall, arms tingling from being raised so long, but she didn’t care. She only wanted the friction of his thrusts. The animalistic noises from his throat that told her he was as wrapped up in this as she was.

And just when she feared he would lose control and leave her in a state of abject arousal, he slid his touch to rub and press and detonate her climax.

She screamed.

CHAPTER TEN

“I came into wake you and heard you were in the shower.” Jax rose from the table to hold her chair, gaze skimming the silk pajamas her mother had given her yesterday. They were a frosted mulberry color with gray lace on the cuffs.

“Mom gave them to me, since we’re not taking a honeymoon.” She looked down at them rather than meet the heat in his eyes. The subliminal,I know what you did last night.

The bondage in the hallway should have satisfied both of them, but after they’d undressed and she’d washed off her makeup, she had worshipped every inch of him, using her mouth to draw him into a tensile arrow of muscle before she rode him as though she hadn’t seen him in years.

The activity had left her whole body sore in the most delicious way.

As she started to take the chair, strong hands caught at her and drew her to face him. He cupped the side of her neck and nuzzled her temple, lips scuffing her cheekbone.

“Thank you for last night.”

She shivered under the onslaught of his tender caress. He inhaled as though drinking in her scent.

She had trusted him and let herself go. Now she felt unprotected. Wary. What would he do with all this power she’d granted him?

“I could eat you for breakfast,” he said with a run of his lips into her throat, then up to her mouth. “But after today, you’re mine forever so I’ll be patient.”

He left a lingering kiss on her lips, then slowly released her, allowing his hands a final roam across arm and waist and hip before he lifted the cover from her plate of avocado toast.

She sank down, shaken from nothing more than a good morning fondle.

“Do you need anything from your apartment before the movers take everything to storage?” he asked as he poured her coffee.

“I told them to stand down.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m keeping the apartment.” She attacked her food. Nerves had kept her from eating much at dinner last night and she’d worked up an appetite with him overnight.

“Your place isn’t big enough for us to use when we visit. If you don’t want to stay here or with my parents, I’ll buy something.”

“Mom and Quinto want to use it. I didn’t realize they’ve been wanting to semi retire and travel. They were staying for me, to help with Sofia, but now they’ll buy something in Virginia Beach and work here on and off.”

“You’re giving yourself a place to come back to,” he accused.

Her pulse tripped. She had to fight to swallow her bite.

“I’m being realistic.” He was all about being practical, wasn’t he? “You haven’t spent a night trying to soothe a child with an earache, or seen her when she’s overtired or had too much sugar. Parenting might not be for you, Jax.”

“I’m insulted. Have you read the prenup? You already have options if you and I arrive at irreconcilable differences.”

She had. The terms were very generous—provided she give their marriage a year and attend counseling if things grew rocky.

“We’re trying to establish trust, Bree. That’s difficult for me when you’re giving yourself an off-ramp.”

“We’re getting married after four days of knowing each other. Of course I’m giving myself a safety net. But it’s also less stressful. I was losing my mind with making decisions and worrying I would forget something that would wind up in a storage locker. This way, Mom can send me anything I forgot. I can start paring down the next time we’re here.”

He pursed his mouth with dismay, but seemed to accept it.

They ate in silence until his phone pinged. He glanced at it. Frowned. Looked at her.

---