Page 219 of Wild Card

“Warned Cruz and Ember not to put you in this.”

“I chose it.”

“Every fucker in that room was eyeing you, watching your moves, thinking of ways to fuck you.”

“You’re absurd.”

“Watched three guys adjust their dicks when you pranced across the dance floor.”

“I didn’t prance, it’s called dancing.”

“Didn’t like it.”

She braces her hands on my chest and moves steadily, the friction building. “Pretty sure the blood-thirsty growls and fiery eyes proved your point.”

“Not enough.”

She bends in, dropping her lips. “I love you, even when you’re an overly possessive, ridiculously archaic ogre.”

“Changed my mind. No need to burn the dress. I’ll rip it to shreds where there is nothing left.”

I nip her bottom lip and slam up, feeling the metal scrape along her smooth heat.

“God, that feels good.”

“Ride me, baby. Give me the image of you on my dick to get me through the rest of this night.”

She moves in rhythm with my thrusts. Her warm breath hitches when my thumb circles her clit, teasing until she’s panting.

Savage hunger rages inside, needing to hear her come apart, screaming my name.

“Look at me.”

Her green eyes rise, filled with lust, desire, and love. They penetrate into me, rooting so deep my control snaps. I tighten my grip on her waist, holding her to me as I flick her clit and drive relentlessly upward.

She fists at my shirt, moaning and then convulsing. I cover her mouth, swallowing her screams as I explode with her.

Sweat trickles down my neck and back, my vision spotting with each pulse of my dick.

She whimpers, tearing away and tucking her face into my neck.

Her breathing settles and she kisses along the underside of my jaw. “Another thing I can cross off my bucket list. Wedding sex.”

“You made a bucket list?”

“Not officially.”

“What else have you crossed off?” I run my hands along her bare back, another reminder of why this dress will never make it in public again.

“Wall sex, hospital office sex, pool sex, and bonus points are wedding sex at a public winery.”

“Sounds more like a fuck list.”

Her hand curls around my neck, urging me to tilt and face her. Her eyes glow in a shade of green that’s a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. “It’s a mental tally that keeps getting better and better. It has more than sex.”

“Graduating top of your class, becoming a doctor on there?”

“Those were goals. This is different. It started when I met you. It also includes falling madly in love, understanding true commitment, allowing myself to imagine a future.”

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