16
Lyon held Kira’s hand as they walked through the lobby of the Mandarin and tried to act like he didn’t want to rip off her clothes.
It wasn’t easy.
After his meeting with Damian he’d returned to the hotel and taken her shopping. Watching Kira try on clothes, seeing the pleasure on her face as she chose things she loved, not just for herself, but for their new home, and on one occasion when he couldn’t talk her out of it, for him, was the highlight of his day excepting one feverish encounter in the dressing room at Chanel.
He’d wanted to shower with her when they’d returned to the hotel, but she’d insisted on getting ready for dinner alone, wanting to surprise him with one of her new dresses, and he’d spent the entirety of the evening staring at her in a magenta dress with a plunging neckline that made him consider taking her to the women’s room and fucking her senseless before they even got to the first course.
He didn’t think he was alone. He’d seen the desire in Kira’s eyes too, had watched her eyes travel over him before he’d put on his suit coat, had seen the flush spread over her chest.
Now he was minutes away from ridding her of the dress and satiating his hunger for her. His blood was hot, his body on fire in a way he’d never experienced. The fact that he had this kind of hunger for a woman he’d once despised, a woman who was now his wife, was a puzzle he wasn’t interested in solving.
The doors had barely slid open on the elevator to the Presidential suite when Lyon pulled her inside. He was pressing her against the back of the elevator car before the doors had even closed.
She gasped as he pressed his throbbing cock against her stomach, and he cupped her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his without preamble, diving in with his tongue as his hands traveled down her neck.
He bypassed her wool coat to slip a hand inside the neckline of the dress and groaned when he came in contact with her silky skin. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he cupped her breast in one hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers as he took their kiss deeper.
She moaned against his mouth, reached down to slip her hands inside his trousers, and wrapped her palm around his pulsing shaft.
He was almost relieved when the elevator doors opened. He could have easily come in her hand and that was not the plan for tonight.
No, tonight, he was going to fuck her mouth, and then he was going to make her come until she was begging for mercy.
They spilled into the suite, dark except for the Manhattan skyline shining in through the picture windows in the living room.
He didn’t take his mouth off hers as they moved toward the bedroom, just slid the coat from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor while he devoured her lips and tongue like a man dying of thirst who’d just reached the last well in a vast desert.
She pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders and started working the buttons of his shirt while he reached around to the zipper at the back of the dress.
“Wait,” she said.
He growled against her mouth. “That command I won’t obey, wife.”
She pressed on his chest and looked up at him. “I bought something special. For tonight.”
He thought of their visit to La Perla that afternoon. It had been the one store she insisted on visiting alone, and she’d sent him away to get a drink at a nearby restaurant when she’d entered the store full of lace, silk, and satin lingerie.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want to waste something pretty on tonight? Whatever it is, I plan to rip it from your body as quickly as possible.”
She smiled. “There’s more where it came from.”
He liked the sound of that.
They walked into her bedroom without discussion. They always made love in her bed, because he was the one who decided whether to visit.
He almost laughed at the thought. There was only one person in control of this situation, and it was the woman who held his heart — and his cock — in her hands even though she didn’t seem to know it.
She walked to the side of the room where the bags were stacked from their morning shopping trip. “Give me five minutes, will you?”
“Five minutes.” He heard the threat in his own voice, wondered if she would be afraid of him, then saw her lips part with desire. It only made him want her more. “Then you’re going to take me in that sweet mouth of yours.”
She drew in a breath and nodded, and he turned away from her before he put his cock in her mouth then and there, expensive lingerie be damned.
He shut the door to the bathroom and poured himself a glass of water from the tap. He could feel the promise of a headache in his temples and he scanned the countertop for aspirin before spotting Kira’s open toiletry bag, the familiar cap of a bottle nestled in the corner.
He only hesitated a second. He just needed some aspirin. She wouldn’t mind.
He removed the bottle and was moving to open it when his gaze snagged on the label.
Prenatal.
He turned the bottle around, his wine-soaked brain struggling to keep up with what he was seeing.
This wasn’t aspirin. It was a bottle of prenatal vitamins.
He felt a surge of euphoria followed by a plummet of despair.
She hadn’t told him, which could only mean she wasn’t happy about it. That she was trying to make peace with it.
He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, then spun toward the door.
She was standing at the end of the bed, clad only in her underwear. “I said five min — ”
She stopped cold, an expression of shock descending over her features as her gaze dropped to the bottle in his hands.
“Lyon, I — ”