Page 27 of His Secret Wish

Her nipples were tight little points pressing against the inside of her bra. They ached to come out and play, for his fingers or his lips to tease them until they were red and swollen. Nipple play had always been a big turn on for her, and she could occasionally orgasm by only having her nipples tweaked and played with.

He balanced his forehead against hers. One of his hands slid up her side to cup her breast. He ran his thumb back and forth across her nipple, making her moan. She kept it low, since she didn’t want to announce to the world what they were doing out here.

He gave her nipple a pinch, sending a streak of heat through her. She wasn’t able to stop the next moan from escaping, but Owen captured her lips and swallowed the sound. His tongue slipped past her lips again, and her tongue automatically met his, ready to spar, stroke for stroke.

They kissed for what felt like forever, sipping at each other’s lips, brushing each other’s tongues, like they couldn’t get enough. Like this was the last time.

Which it very might well be.

She pushed that unhelpful thought aside. There was no room for those kinds of thoughts in this fairy tale. At least not tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’d worry about it, but tonight was just for feeling. Living in the moment. She pulled away from his lips, needing a moment to compose herself.

The song inside changed to a slow one. Which also happened to be one of Isabella’s favorites. She smiled up at him, feeling drunk even though she hadn’t had a drop to drink tonight. “Dance with me?” Her voice sounded like she’d been asleep for a hundred years.

“Of course, mi cariño. Anything you want.” His eyes were shadowed in the darkness, but there was a hint of something that looked an awful lot like love glinting back at her.

But that was far too much to handle at the moment. She could worry and fret about it tomorrow, when the music wasn’t playing, and there wasn’t magic in the air.

She pressed herself against him. He slipped his arms around her waist, his hands resting just above her butt. Burning through the soft cotton of her dress. She gyrated her hips against his to the slow, grinding beat.

One of his hands slid lower, cupping her butt cheek, giving a squeeze. He rolled his hips against hers, meeting and grinding to the song. She pressed her face to his chest. His heart thumped against her cheek.

Time seemed to stand still as they danced on the porch, lost in their own little world.

She tilted her head back to watch him. He was staring down at her, heat and need shining in his gaze. She could completely understand, mostly because she was sure her gaze held the same heat, the same need. It had been so long. Too long. She needed him, needed to feel him against her, inside her.

He pressed his lips to hers again. But this wasn’t like their other kisses tonight. This one was nothing but want and heat and lust. His tongue swept against hers, devouring and conquering. She met him stroke for stroke, her own desire rising out of control.

She dragged herself away from his mouth, and he chased her, brushing another quick kiss against her lips. Her lips felt swollen and tingly. As did other parts farther south. She was achy with need.

“Let’s go upstairs.” Her voice was husky, deep with need.

He nodded, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchen door. She smoothed a hand over her hair, although the humidity in the air had already done a number on it. Her skin was tingling and hot, and as he pushed open the door, her cheeks prickled even more.

There was no doubt what she and Owen had been doing, and were about to do, and traipsing through the kitchen with members of her family sitting there was completely embarrassing. Which was ridiculous, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

Although, it wasn’t like she and Owen weren’t technically married, and everyone here thought they were still together, so getting flustered was silly.

She held her head high, but she hadn’t needed to worry. A couple of people turned to glance at them, but an energetic game of cards had broken out, so no one paid the least bit of attention to her and Owen.

Owen led her to the stairs, but had to let go of her hand so they could make their way up. He indicated she should go ahead of him, so she slipped past him, making sure to brush against him on the way by. He growled, the sound low enough only she could hear it. Her lips curved up in a smile. She loved getting a reaction out of him. He was usually so stoic, so restrained, that when he let go, it was thrilling. When she was the one to make him lose his cool, it made it super sweet.

And, if she was being honest, being the only one that every heard or saw him like that—they’d been each other’s firsts in every way, and then had gotten married right out of high school—used to make her preen like a peacock.

The idea that, in the time they were separated, someone else could have seen him like that made her heart ache like someone had jabbed it over and over again with a paring knife. Small, sharp cuts that added up so quickly, you didn’t know you were even bleeding until it was too late.

No, no, she refused to think about that. Not tonight. Not when she was so close to getting what she wanted, even if, until this moment, she’d never realized how badly.

She walked up the stairs, making sure to swing her hips extra hard with every step. If he wanted a show, she’d give him a show. She took her time, ran her fingers along the banister in what she hoped were a seductive way. Not that she knew what seductive finger work looked like.

Geez, she was so out of practice when it came to this stuff. And it wasn’t like she’d been very good at it to begin with. Owen was the only person she’d ever been with, and when they were younger, all it took was a stiff breeze, or a little exposed skin to get either of them in the mood. She’d never had to do any sort of seducing.

The idea she was doing it now was both enthralling and terrifying.

She hit the third-floor landing. The only light came from a small, dim nightlight plugged into the socket at the end of the hall.

He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. His lips trailed tiny kisses along her exposed shoulder. She rested the back of her head on his shoulder, tilting it to the side. Her skin buzzed with sensation.

“You feel so good, mi cariño.” The words were a low rumble against her skin.