Page 70 of The Wrong Groom

The floor seems to tilt under me as I put together what he means.

He bought the restaurant.

Closed the whole place down, just so the two of us could be alone in it. My feet go still, and so does my mind. I open my mouth to tell him he shouldn’t have, that he didn’t need to do any of this…

But before I can get a word out, his lips are on mine again.

Chapter 23

Gabriel

I don’t waste a second. The instant Alexis’s lips part under mine, I take the kiss deeper, pouring all those weeks of pent-up hunger into it. The fire that’s been building between us has finally caught, and now that it has, I don’t think it’s ever going out.

There was no rational business reason for me to buy Liora—especially at the astronomical price I just paid for it. But right now, I feel like it’s the best thing I’ve ever spent my considerable wealth on.

Because it got me this.

This moment, with the woman who’s been working her way under my skin since before the day we said “I do.”

The only thing that matters right now is Alexis, and making her mine. Truly mine. She wants me to teach her about sex, so I’m going to show her everything I know and then some—here, and a hundred other places, until she can’t remember a version of herself that didn’t know exactly how good this could feel.

My hands find her waist and grip hard, and the heat of her body against mine sparks my cock right back to life. The minutes I spent away from her, offering an obscene amount of money to the owner and settling things with the staff, felt like an eternity, and I ached for her the whole walk back.

She gasps against my mouth, her fingers twisting in my shirt, and the desperation in her movements tears through what little control I have left. I lift her by the waist, and she yelps in surprise as I carry her to the nearest table. It’s still set with expensive cutlery and half-finished plates the last customers left behind, and I sweep it all aside with one arm. Glass shatters, the sound loud in the quiet room.

I don’t give a shit about the mess though. All that matters is getting my gorgeous wife undressed and getting my hands on her. I set her on the edge of the table, and she looks up at me with wide eyes, her skin already pricked with goosebumps. She watches me peel her pants and panties down and off, and when I part her knees and see how wet she already is, it takes everything I’ve got to hold myself together.

I drag my tongue across my lower lip, inhaling deeply as her scent fills my nostrils. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”

Her pupils dilate, and her breath hitches when I kneel in front of her and reach out to tease her with my fingers, parting her folds and baring her glistening clit to my gaze. She grabs the edge of the table, her knuckles going white, and traps her lip between her teeth as if she’s holding a sound back.

I still my hand as I hold her gaze. “Don’t be quiet, sunshine. I want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels.”

I ease one finger inside her, then slowly add another, stretching her a little without taking it too far. She exhales sharply and clenches around me, and a groan slips out of her when I curl my fingers and draw them back, finding her g-spot. Her back arches and her eyelids droop, her dark lashes fluttering.

“Oh my god. Holy shit.”

Despite my urging to get loud, she says it so quietly that if this place weren’t dead empty, I’d never catch it. That’s fine. I plan on having her scream my name before I’m through—loud enough to ring off every wall in here, so there’s never any question who’s making her feel like this.

I keep teasing her, massaging her g-spot and teasing her clit, taking my time with it as I tell her, “Shirt off. Bra too.”

She seems so lost in the pleasure of what I’m doing to her that it takes her a second to move, then she tugs at her shirt with jerky movements, yanking it over her head before disposing of her bra. I track every action with hungry eyes, savoring every new inch of skin as it comes into view. Every part of her is perfect. It’s hard to believe no man has ever treated her the way she deserves, but I’m so damn glad it gets to be me. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it right.

When she starts working her hips against my hand, silently begging for more, I slide my fingers free and bring them to her mouth. Her lips part on instinct, and I drag the wetness across them, watching her tongue chase the taste of her own arousal.

“Good girl,” I rasp. “See? There’s nothing I need to teach you. You already know.”

She moans, and the sound is so fucking hot that I have to cover her mouth with mine, drinking it up, devouring it. My cock jumps again, fully hard and straining toward her. But this is the moment I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks, and now that I have her in front of me, naked and wanton and mine, I plan to take my time.

My hands move up to her breasts, cupping and kneading them as I kiss her. She moans into it, her head tipping back, and I nip at her lower lip before following the line of her throat with my mouth, kissing down to her collarbone. She tastes as good as she smells, like honey and vanilla and amber, better than any of the fancy desserts on Liora’s menu.

As my hands move to roam over her again, tracing the curve of her waist and gripping her thighs, one of them brushes something cold, and I realize there’s a dish of ice cream with handmade chocolate sauce drizzled on top still sitting on the table. I glance over at it briefly, and a wicked thought fills my mind when I realize it hasn’t even been touched. Whoever ordered it was clearly asked to leave by the staff before they got to indulge in their dessert.

Their loss, my gain.

I rise to my feet and pick it up with a sinful grin.

“Lean back a bit,” I instruct Alexis.