Page 50 of Forgive Me, Father

More heat crept into my cheeks and ears, and I just held on to him tighter.He pulled out his fingers first.My arousal was all over his hand.

“Why are you blushing, little runaway?”

“I never knew my body could feel this way.I was told many things, and I was waiting for something completely different.Not this.”

His eyebrow furrowed.“Meaning what?”

“They said the first time hurt, well it did, but I was told it would take time to feel good, if that ever happens.”

Alfonso nodded.A nervous, shy chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it.

“It’s okay.I think I know what you are speaking about.”

“You do?”

He nodded with a smile.I had a gorgeous husband, and it was hard to imagine that he was mine.

“Is there…” I took a deep breath, not knowing how to ask this.

“Speak, woman.Use your words.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how to ask this?”

“Ask.”Another command.

I took a deep breath.“Can someone get addicted to this?”

Italian words flowed effortlessly from Alfonso’s lips, his voice like a soft melody before he kissed me again.I couldn’t seem to get enough of him, and a quiet fear settled deep in my chest, that he might be the one to unravel me completely.

EIGHTEEN

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

We shareda shower and by the time I drifted off in his arms, it was nearly eleven.When I woke, a wave of relief washed over me to find him still lying beside me, his presence a quiet comfort in the stillness of the room.

His erection tented the sheets.I just wanted to touch him, to devour him.I could feel myself becoming addicted to him, and I knew it wasn’t good.Not this early in the relationship or contract, or whatever the fuck this was turning into.

I tore my gaze from the tentpole and slowly let my eyes travel up his chiseled stomach, tracing the defined lines and sculpted muscles.

His V-line made me swallow hard.My throat went dry as my gaze slowly traced his six-pack, no, eight, if you counted the subtle muscles flanking the center.And that damn ‘V’ that led down, disappearing just beneath the sheet, drawing my gaze back to his erection.

How did he stay in such incredible shape?I’d never seen him run, and there wasn’t a single piece of gym equipment in the room.

Gothic tattoos, dark and intricate, spread across his chest and stomach.The white rabbit, etched in bold ink, served as a constant reminder of just how dangerous my new husband really was.

I knew his temper; it terrified me when it was aimed at me.Because I also knew what he was capable of.

I took him in slowly, my eyes tracing the rise and fall of his chest with each steady breath.

My teeth gently nipped at my lower lip, the soft scrape a silent reflection of just how irresistible he looked.

His well-defined chest muscles were easily one of my favorite features, followed closely by his strong jawline, framed by a neatly groomed beard.Those full, succulent lips seemed to have a life of their own, making me ache to kiss him awake.And then there was his nose—perfectly shaped, adding to the striking profile that took my breath away.

My eyes flickered up to his, and I jumped slightly, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.His green eyes were already locked on me, unblinking.

Alfonso’s lips curved as my cheeks warmed, knowing that he had watched me while I was ogling him.

So embarrassing.

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