He just didn’t know that reason yet, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.
She curled her hands into fists on her thighs. “Never.”
That’s it? Just a simple word? “I won’t give you an annulment until you admit it was your idea. Until you stop blaming me for this.”
She glared up at him, somehow making it appear that she was looking down at him, instead of the other way around. “Then I guess we’ll have to live happily ever after, because I don’t believe it.”
“Fine by me.” He said it in a smug way but the idea didn’t sound too scary. His throat should have been threatening to close up on him from the mere thought, but he didn’t leave. Didn’t even want to leave. What. The. Fuck? “I could handle that.”
She pointed at him. “See? You’re the one who wants to be married to me. If you didn’t, you’d be panicking right now. Just like I am.”
“Of course I’m panicking.” He lowered himself onto her, making her lie back on the bed. She flopped down without a struggle but her eyes had all the fight in them. “I have a surefire way to forget all about that.”
“Are you still drunk?” She put her hands on his chest, holding him back. “Not happening, husband.”
Something about that word on her lips just felt right, despite the sneer in her tone. Shit. Maybe he was still drunk. It would explain why he was still here, with his wife. But he didn’t want to think about that right now.
Instead he pressed his body to hers, his c**k nestled in between her legs. Reaching between their bodies, he tugged at her robe. “Liar.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Am not!”
“Are too.” He lowered his face until their lips were a breath apart. “Tell me you asked me to marry you and I’ll leave. I’ll let you go and give you the annulment you so desperately want. But you have to say it first.”
Her nails dug into his skin, stinging. “And if I won’t?”
He nibbled on her lower lip and she whimpered. That small sound did weird things to him. Made his whole body strain for more. “Then I’m f**king my wife in my honeymoon suite in my bed until she can’t remember why she refused to admit she wanted me in the first place.”
“I’m not your wife,” she said, her voice little more than a breathy whisper. “And I refuse to say it.”
He closed his mouth over hers, his tongue immediately seeking hers. As soon as they touched, all of the stiffness left her body. Groaning, he ran his fingers up her side, ripping the robe open. She arched her back, begging him without words to take her. To make her his. She might not want to admit it out loud, but she clearly wanted to be here.
Wanted him.
He spread her robe wide. She clung to him, her eyes closed and her breathing heavy. He nibbled at her neck, then moved lower. Left a trail of kisses down her shoulder and over her breast. He didn’t stop until he took her nipple in his mouth, sucking deeply. She cried out, her nails raking over his skin. He was filled with the need to make her want him as much as he wanted her. Inside of the bedroom and out of it.
He had no intention of falling in love with her—after all, love may have worked out for Brianna and Kiersten, but it had been a disaster for his other sister and his parents—still, he knew he liked having her around. Despite himself, he liked Morgan. Liked her independence, her confidence, her commitment to her dancing, her sense of humor. And after they fixed this crapshoot of a marriage, then he wouldn’t mind seeing her again. Stupidity or not. He knew he should be seeing yellow lights right now. Maybe even red.
But to him—the world was green.
He scraped his teeth against her nipple again. “Mike,” she moaned, digging her fingers in his hair.
Desire shot through him, heating his blood, and he slid his fingers in between her legs. He cupped her mound, slipping his fingers inside of her. She was wet and ready. And, damn it, so was he. He moved his fingers inside of her, rubbing his thumb against her clit. She cried out and pumped her hips up, rotating them desperately.
Standing up, he grabbed one of the many condoms sitting on the nightstand and rolled one on. Next, he slid down her body, leaving little love nips as he went. She tasted so damn good. He’d never get enough of her. Okay, that thought may have made the light go red for a minute. But he knew what he was doing. He wasn’t going to fall for her. He knew better.
By the time he reached the top of her thigh, she cried out. Moving in a little bit, he thrust two fingers inside of her and flicked her clit with his tongue. Her muscles squeezed down on his fingers, begging for more. Looking up at her, he traced a finger over her sensitive flesh. “Say you want me.”
She gripped the sheets with white knuckles. “What? Are you insane?”
“No.” He swirled his tongue over her again, sucking gently. She tensed, her whole body straining for release. His own need demanded he stop this game. Demanded he bury himself inside of her and f**k her until she couldn’t walk straight. But he pulled back again, stilling his fingers inside of her. “Tell me.”
“Please,” she panted, her cheeks flushed. “Stop talking.”
“After you admit it.” His mouth dried out. If his plan backfired, then he would kick himself in the f**king nuts. If she told him to f**k off, he would die. “Tell me you want me.”
“Just take me,” she said, her arms open to him.
And he wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to. “Say it. Say you need me as much as I need you.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “Why?”
“I—I need to hear it.”
And he did. But…why?
She seemed to sense how important this was to him. How much he needed this right now. And for once? She didn’t fight him. “I need you. I need you right now.”
And then, within seconds, he was on his knees, and he was pleasuring her with his mouth. Her legs tightened around his head, squeezing tight. He swirled his tongue around her clit, sucking and scraping and licking. Her cries got louder and harder, her hips moved faster and more demandingly.
She froze, her whole body tight and tense. When she collapsed against the mattress, he positioned himself at her entry, rubbing the tip of his c**k against her clit. She cried out and convulsed again.
When he shoved into her, she was still quivering from her climax. And her inner muscles squeezed him tight, drawing him in deeper. He’d always prided himself on being able to last for hours. Being able to make a woman come all f**king night. He could almost sit back like a bystander, coldly calculating his next move.