Future husband.I do love the way that sounds.
I’m planning on making my future wife come until she sees stars and forgets the unconventional start of our relationship.
“Undress me,” I request.
Lyra’s delicate throat bobs as she swallows. I want to bite it—I want to bite every part of her and mark her as mine with bruises and scrapes. I want to fuckingdevourher, and I’m done denying myself the pleasure.
The idea that I was once determined to release her feels preposterous. What could I have possibly been thinking when I decided that she was beneath me?
She won’t be a ball and chain around my ankle. She’ll be the one who pullsmeup, just as I intend to uplift her.
My Little Bird’s hands move to my button-up. She starts unbuttoning, one button at a time, her hands fumbling and knees trembling. A smile touches my lips. Her reaction to me is pleasing, but the fear in her touch… that can’t remain. I slowly brush my fingers over her thighs and settle my hands on her waist, sweeping my thumbs over her skin.
She finishes unbuttoning me hurriedly, then draws her hands away as if I’m made of lava.
I arch an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “Do I appear undressed to you?” I ask mildly.
She blows out a long breath, steeling herself, as if I’ve asked her to do an impossible task. Slowly, one item of clothing at a time, she strips me. I don’t miss the way her eyes linger on my chest and body—she may not likeme,but she’s susceptible to my looks.
I’ll need to exponentially amp up my charm with her. It’ll be a tricky process, since she’s the first woman to refuse diamonds and flowers from me, but I’ll find a way. I always find a way to achieve my goals—my entire life is evidence of that.
I stand when she gets to my pants, and she recoils. “Easy,” I soothe. “I’m just making it easier for you. Undo my belt and get on the bed.”
She swallows again. Follows my instructions, then climbs onto the bed. I shuck my pants and boxers as she climbs to the head of the bed, then positions herself on her hands and knees, facing the headboard.
I chuckle. She resists even when she’s submitting.
“On your back,” I request mildly. “I want to see your face.”
“I don’t want to look at you.”
“I didn’t ask what you want. Are you looking for a painful punishment?”
My words are as effective as expected. Lyra flips over to her back and glues her gaze to the ceiling, but there’s a hitch in her breath.
“How many times have I fucked you this last week?” I ask, putting a knee on the bed.
Lyra’s brows draw together, and her nose wrinkles in an adorable, heart-warming gesture. “Eight times?”
“Fourteen,” I correct. “Since the night of the gala. Would you happen to remember how many times you’ve orgasmed?”
Her frown deepens. “Enough,” she says hesitantly.
“None,” I reply. “I’ve been in a bit of a hurry, slipping in a quick fuck here and there, but you’ve been holding out on me.” I slide a hand up her ankle. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
She shrinks into herself, eyes widening. I wonder if she senses where I’m going with this.
She starts to turn over again prematurely, assuming that I’m going to spank her for her resistance. I squeeze her ankle and shake my head.
“No pain tonight,” I tell her. “Not unless you go out of your way to earn it.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll extract what you owe me.” I tilt my head to the side as I consider her, nudging her legs apart and settling between them. “How many times do you usually orgasm when I take you?”
Her gaze starts to fill up with delicious panic. “Once.”
“Liar,” I breathe. “Two or three times. More, when I have enough time.” I let a smile curve my lips. “Can you sense where I’m going with this?”