Mr. & Mrs.: An Arranged Marriage Romance
Page 6
“Bora Bora.” His husky words are a saccharine caress against my neck and shoulder.
His fingers lightly trail along my sides and stomach and cause me to stutter. “H-how long are w-we here f-for?” His warm lips on my ear send shivers down my spine.
“I rented it for the weekend.”
I’m slightly disappointed at the short amount of time we’ll have. “Oh.”
“I’m thinking we might need more time, though.” He spins me to face him, and before I can process what’s going on, our mouths are melting into one another. He steals my breath and leaves me panting for more all in a single second. This man flips me inside out, and yet, holds me together perfectly. His touch is soft, gentle, but oh so sweet.
He doesn’t push for more; we savor the kiss as our bodies do all the talking. I’m not ready to pass this point right now, and I’m so grateful he understands that. It doesn’t stop me from wanting him, nonetheless.
The way he holds me protectively in his embrace shows his caring disposition. The firm grip he has on my hips exhibits his dominating presence. I love both. I’ve always dreamed of the day I could hand over the control to someone who wouldn’t abuse my trust and love. For the first time, I feel like Jordan could be the one.
My one.
Jordan
Sweet, innocent Megan. She has this pull that draws me to her. I can’t keep my hands to myself as she tentatively touches her tongue to my own exploring one. Having her in my arms while we’re both nearly naked is a dream. Having her underneath me would be pure bliss.
As much as she wants to fight me, I can feel her body giving in to this torrential attraction between us. The light breeze cools our overheated bodies as I deepen the kiss and draw her frame further into mine.
Her fingers dig into my biceps when I nip and suck on her lip. “Jordan,” her breathy voice makes me want to purr like a fucking kitten.
Forcing myself to pull away from her delectably addictive lips, I say, “I have plans for us today.”
Her eyes are closed as she breathes deeply. “What are we doing?”
“I can’t for the life of me fucking remember.” I groan when she bites the corner of one lip. Sheer sin. This woman is going to own me.
“Oh. Maybe we could collect seashells or something?” The light in her eyes and voice makes her seem so much younger than her years.
I couldn’t deny her if I tried. “Whatever you want, Mag-pie.”
Her smile brightens her entire face as she skips away humming and rummaging through the tiny closet. I bet she doesn’t notice that she didn’t bring a suitcase, and I had clothes sent in overnight. Reaching around her swaying ass, I grab a pair of board shorts and head to the bathroom to clean up.
If she wants to collect seashells by the seashore, we’re damn well going to do it until she’s content. I
’d originally planned a snorkeling expedition, but given her pregnant state, I doubt it’d be good for her or the baby.
At this rate, I figure the peace and quiet with just the two of us will be a great chance for us to play twenty-one questions.
I can still hear her humming as I power through my shower and get dressed. Leaving the small enclosure, I see her in the tiny kitchen chopping some of the fruit I had the fridge stocked with.
“I hope this okay?” Her shy question has me wondering where the woman from ten minutes ago went.
“Of course. You’re welcome to anything in here. Hell, anything anywhere. You want it, Megan, and it’s yours.” I’m sure I’ll have to repeat that statement every time she wants or needs something.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, going back to cutting the pineapple in her hands. I’m fascinated as I watch her work the knife with precision and skill. Not once nicking her fingers as she skins the fruit.
“Do you enjoy cooking?” I ask her. I’d love to see her in my kitchen.
“Sometimes.” Her short answer doesn’t tell me much.
“Do you prefer to do it for just you or a few friends?” She freezes at my query. Looking up, I see hesitance in her green gaze. She’s afraid to connect with me. Walking around the counter, I stand beside her, placing my hand over the one she’d just taken off the fresh fruit. “Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you’re thinking, I want this. I want us. This may have been a marriage of convenience for us both in the beginning, but I ache to have you as my real wife. I want everything a loving marriage entails, Megan.”
We don’t look at each other after my passionate words, and she doesn’t move, which is fine. She’s likely processing the sentiments and how much she can trust them. I want her to, but I accept I’m going to have to earn everything with this woman.
Megan