He gave me a sheepish grin. “I was eighteen and horny. That was romance to me then.”
I snickered. “True. I just remember wanting you to be my first.”
His cheeks flushed. “I hope it was worth it.”
I liked that I could embarrass him. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know you’re God’s gift to women.”
“I don’t care about women, Sinclair. Just you.”
I smiled, but I felt a little uneasy. Comments like that made me think he saw this marriage as more than the arrangement than it was.
After dinner, we returned to the suite where Wyatt poured more champagne from a new bottle and led me to the little balcony. The lights of the suite were off, so we had only the moon to light the night. It reminded me of all the times by the oak tree sitting in the moonlight, talking, having passionate sex and basking in our love.
“You probably think I never thought about you, considering the way I left,” he said, turning his head up toward the moon. “But no matter where I was…the jungle or the desert, wading through a river or through mud, I’d look up at the moon and think about you. All those nights we’d sit in the moonlight under the oak tree. I was a world away, but we were looking up at the same moon.”
His words reached into my heart and grabbed hold. I was losing the battle to keep from falling for him again, as proved by how I leaned into him, and pressed my lips to his.
His kiss was soft and sweet, his hand lightly stroking my back. “I used to dream of this too. Of holding you again.” He lifted his head and looked down at me. “I promised I’d keep my hands to myself, but I’d do anything to touch you, Sinclair.”
I nodded, and kissed him again. He let out a groan and then scooped me up into his arms. He kissed me hard, and then carried me into the suite. Still holding me, he climbed on the bed. He was on his knees as he set me down on my knees facing him.
“This time it will be slow,” he said as he unzipped my dress.
“What if I want fast?”
He grinned. “Next time.” He pushed my dress from my shoulders, cascading kisses over my skin and making me shudder.
I undid the buttons of his shirt, leaning in to kiss his chest as I exposed it.
“Yes, touch me, Sinclair,” he said, holding my head to him.
I pushed his shirt off and ran my hands over him. “How do you want me to touch you? I want to make you feel good.”
He cradled my face. “You do, baby. Every time.” He leaned over and kissed me, slow, thorough, and my heart expanded in my chest at the emotion I felt from him.
We finished undressing, facing each other naked, still on our knees. His dick was long and hard, pointing straight up. I had an urge to kiss the soft, velvety tip. I’d never done that before, but after what he did to me on his kitchen table, I wanted to do the same for him.
I looked up at him. “Do you like blow jobs?”
He let out a frustrated growl. “Every man likes blow jobs.”
I began to lean down, but he stopped me. “Next time.”
“You said fast next time,” I argued.
“The time after that then.” He sat back on his heels, pulling me onto him to straddle his thighs. “This time I want to be inside you, Sinclair.”
It was hard to argue with that. I ran my hands over his shoulders and then leaned in to kiss him. We kissed for a long time, my pussy rubbing over his dick until I couldn’t take it anymore. I shifted, adjusting so his dick settled at my opening.
He pulled back from the kiss and looked at me. Our gazes locked and I slowly took him inside me. His eyes held passion and desire, but also emotion that scared me.
When he was completely seeped inside me, he once again cradled my face. He looked like he might say something, but instead he kissed me. His hands moved to my breasts, cupping and kneading them. He pinched my nipples, and I gasped as it sent spasms to my pussy.
He groaned and pulled away from the kiss, lifting one of my breasts to his lips. He licked my nipple and blew lightly, making it pucker and tighten.
“Wyatt.”
“You’re amazing. So, fucking amazing,” he said as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, and again my core clenched around him. I started rocking, needing to feel him move in me, against me.