Don't Promise (Don't 3) - Page 299

I held my left hand forward as he slipped it over

my ring finger. It sparkled in the candlelight.

“It’s perfect.” I admired the stone on my hand.

“It’s big enough, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Sam, are you kidding? It’s bigger than big.” I could feel the weight of the platinum circle my finger.

“Good. I want everyone to know you’re my wife. That you belong to me.”

I crawled into his lap. “I do belong to you.” I pressed my forehead to his. “I’ll always belong to you.”

His arms circled my waist and I pressed my lips to his. I’d never been this happy. I’d never felt such love and warmth.

“And what about you?” I teased. “How big a ring do you want?”

He looked at me. “I have to wear a ring? I’ve got this one.” He held up his right hand, showing off his national championship ring from last year.

I nodded. “Oh yes. Not during the game, of course. Or practices. I understand that. But I want everyone to know you are this ballerina’s husband.”

He tugged at the back of my hair, dragging his lips over my throat. My breath quickened. I loved how it felt when he held me in his arms. When he directed my movements. When he created the dance between us. I was ready to burst into flames thinking about his next step. How he would position my body. How it would feel when we were taking each other, owning each other, promising ourselves to each other with a new commitment between us.

“If the ballerina wants me to wear a ring, I’ll wear it,” he growled behind my ear, kissing my skin roughly. I shivered.

“Yes, I want you to wear a ring.” I bit my lower lips as he pushed the shirt off my shoulder.

“Deal.” His hands skidded under my shirt, pushing my bra over my head with it.

He grinned widely. “You know what I’m going to do now?”

I licked my lips. I could only hope. “What?”

“Fuck you with nothing but that diamond on.”

I sighed as he picked me up from the floor and carried me to the bed. I watched silently as he peeled my pants over my legs, doing exactly what he promised. Was this happening? Was I engaged to a man who I had given my body to so freely, my heart tumbling quickly after?

Sam threw his shirt on the floor and I eyed him hungrily as he stepped out of his jeans. This man was going to be my husband. The father of my children. My life.

We would decide everything together. Our lives would forever be entwined.

I looked into his wickedly handsome eyes as he crawled on top of me.

“We’re getting married,” I whispered.

“We are.” He lowered his tongue to my breast and flicked the tip over my nipple. I arched toward him. “You’re going to be my wife.”

“Ohh,” I moaned. I’d never realized what a sexy word wife was in English.

He sucked it into his mouth and I felt the deep coiling in my belly start to tighten. My hips began to move.

He kissed me, as he settled between my legs. I was soaking with want and need. With a thirst I’d never had for him before. I wanted my fiancé to melt into my skin. Get lost with me in our desire. Climb and crawl against each other until we couldn’t breathe anymore. I wanted the friction of his skin, and the smell of his sweat to cover me. I wanted all of his cock inside of me, making me his, owning me in a new way.

With Sam, my body was free and beautiful. We fed each other’s need for raw and primal energy. We matched each other’s steps. Pushed each other’s stamina. Took what we wanted, and gave each other everything.

He hovered over me as I dug my heels against the firmness of his ass. He was torturing me with his cock, gliding it back and forth against my clit. I whimpered for his release.

“You know I want you, Sam.” I panted.

Tags: Violet Paige Don't Romance
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