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If I made him happy, if I gave him what he wanted, all while entertaining him, he’d let me become a part of his life.
And while adultery was common in our world, I really didn’t want that either, even if that would be almost impossible to achieve.
I didn’t want to wonder who he was fucking, I didn’t want to worry if he was using a condom or if he was getting some slut pregnant with a child who might resent the legitimate kids we had—and that wasn’t as ludicrous as it sounded. Crazy shit happened all the time in our world, and when you thought about the money that was floating around, it made sense.
I didn’t love Eoghan. I didn’t know him. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t work toward attaining something that would make us both happy, and that would, given time, make us like one another.
Love wasn’t something I was aiming for. Maybe, in my heart, I cried out for it, but hearts had no place in business deals. If I’d learned anything from my father, it was that, and it was time I put that into practice.
At my challenge, just like I’d known he would, Eoghan fell for it.
Of course, I hadn’t anticipated his response.
I hadn’t expected any of this, truth be told. I hadn’t thought he’d eat me out on the kitchen counter, nor had I imagined he’d manage to wheedle that embarrassing shit with Maxim out of me. Then, when I’d told him my biggest fantasy? I had to admit, it was only because I was orgasm drunk.
What I’d achieved with my hand and what he’d done with his mouth?
Sweet fuck.
It was like nothing I could have imagined.
My hand gave me as much pleasure as a really good scratch when you had an irritating mosquito bite.
His mouth? I felt like my entire being was going to implode.
When you were shoved headfirst into that, into feeling something like that, there was no way you were going to come out unscathed.
Even now, as he began to trace his fingers around my clit once more, making me grit my teeth as the sensitive nub flared to life with a whimper because it was still tender, he chivvied, “You can watch it if I’m there.”
“Porn is private,” I retorted. “I might like something you don’t.”
His lips curved, and a wicked light appeared in his eyes. “I’ll willingly reenact anything I see you watch.”
The notion excited me more than I could stand, and he saw it.
Damn his hide.
I pursed my lips like I was contemplating that, and muttered, “Okay.”
“So gracious,” he replied, and then he dipped his chin and kissed me.
He tasted like me. Soap from the shower I’d just had, salty juices that I knew came from my pussy. I’d tasted it once or twice, knew it was inoffensive, but on his lips, it tasted different.
It tasted sexy.
A shaky breath escaped me as I surged upward, unable to stop myself from slipping my hands through his hair and holding him to me.
Eoghan, as a man, was beautiful. As my husband, he was still a stranger. But what he did to my body? What he’d made me feel this week? Safe? Protected? Somehow, all of that morphed into a need so powerful, because I knew that he’d make me feel good.
My friend, Lisandra, had lost her cherry to Myles Harrison in our class, and she’d been sore for a week afterward—plus he’d told half the locker room, and she’d been humiliated.
Eoghan wasn’t a little boy.
He knew what to do with his body, knew what to do with mine, and I was a willing student because I was so beyond ready for sex that I knew if he didn’t put his dick inside me soon, I was going to go crazy.
He chuckled at my kiss, at first, then, when he seemed to sense how hungry I was, he stopped laughing. His tongue thrust into my mouth, flicking against mine, making everything inside me wonder what it would be like for something else to be doing that.
I shuddered, clasped my legs around his waist, and seconds later, he was hauling me up and into the air.
