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My voice is tight when I say, “Why does that sound like a goodbye?”
“Our wedding is three weeks away,” he says, as if that’s all the explanation I need.
But I read the fine print hidden between each word. Rowan still plans to give Sam the manor, and then he’s going back home to Seattle. Both things I can’t blame him for, but in this moment, I would give anything to change.
This fake engagement started as a simple business transaction, but somewhere along the way, we’ve become completely consumed by one another, despite the mountains dividing where we are now and where we want to be.
“Comfort or solution?” I murmur, swiping my thumb across his thinly bearded cheeks.
Lines form between his brows, and I cover them with a kiss until his frown melts away.
“Comfort,” he whispers as his fingers slip beneath my skirt. Nails lightly scrape my outer thighs before his palms glide agonizingly slow toward my waist where he holds me tight. “Comfort, Molly. Please.”
That one desperate plea has me closing the gap. I inhale his shuddered breath the moment our lips meet, and the satin texture of his mouth is the epitome of decadence.
His tongue circles mine, probing for more, urging me to respond with equal fervor before he reclaims my lips. The passion in which he ravages my mouth stirs a burning desire, an aching need for more.
Rowan breaks the kiss for a fraction of a second, and I tug his hair while he mindlessly murmurs across my lips. “Fuck. Tell me you’ve craved this as much as I have.”
“Yes,” I assure him. “Every day.”
My body molds against his perfectly, arms folded around his shoulders as he tracks more compliments up the side of my neck. “Forget the engagement. Right now, you’re my wife, and I’m going to worship you as such.”
Stitching tears from the force of him yanking the top of my dress down. I throw my head back as my breasts spill over the bunched fabric, and he buries his face between them, nuzzling and skimming his stubble across my nipples.
My wife.
Nothing has ever felt more perfect than those two words, and what an honor it would be to stand by his side. I’d be damn proud to have this man’s last name branded on my heart for eternity.
I moan. “That feels incredible.”
There’s no guesswork when we’re physical. Our bodies know exactly what to do, no thought required, and it’s as freeing as it is addicting.
I’m obsessed with each of these seeds he’s planted within me. A garden full of sensations that bloom and burst with color for him, and only him, and I see them all clearly when I shut my eyes, arching into his hungry mouth.
“I want to bruise these pretty tits of yours so badly, kitten.” He laps the spot he was sucking gently. “Can I?”
No way I’m denying him when he’s asking for permission for once. “Yes. Yes, please.”
His teeth clamp down, and I shout in ecstasy when he sucks harder, bringing blood to the surface. He leaves four purple bruises on my left breast and three on my right before hoisting me up on the piano.
My toes smash the keys and they clang disjointedly, making me grin. But Rowan’s determined as he hooks my knees over his strong shoulders.
The moon’s high in the sky, casting its icy white glow through the windows, and I lie back, bracing myself on my elbows.
He parts my skirt, baring my core to his covetous gaze, and when one fingertip swipes down the center of my panties, I jolt. “God, you love this, don’t you? You’re trembling.”
I lift my head, but his teeth are already clamping on my upper thigh—and holy hell, it hurts so good.
“Rowan!” I’m hyperventilating when he gives the other thigh the same treatment.
“Keep my name in your mouth, wife,” he growls before drawing more skin against his tongue, then releasing it with a wet pop. “Sexiest sound I’ve ever fucking heard.”
He swirls firm circles over the spot with the tip of his tongue. The combination of wet and hot shoots currents of pleasure through my core, and unable to resist, I reach beneath my panties and touch my aching clit.
I slip one finger inside when he stops to watch, and his eyes are drunk with lust. “That’s good, baby. Keep doing that. Get my meal ready.”
“Oh, god.”
