Arrogant Master (Arrogant #2)(43)
I'm still safe in this cocoon, but he has my hands, pinning them as he kisses and makes love to me.
That's what he's doing.
He's making love to me.
This feels like love-sex.
I could stay here forever like this, soaking in the heat of his body as it weighs me down. I'm not even concerned with coming right now. My body craves his closeness, that elusive connection with Dane that always felt as if it were within arm's reach seconds before he'd yank it away.
For an entire hour, Dane makes love to me, and for an entire hour, nothing else matters.
We finish just as emotionally spent as we are physically, and he lingers inside me for a moment longer than usual before rolling off. He heads to the bathroom, and I turn over, covering with sheets and sinking into a pile of pillows as my body shakily recovers.
Dane returns a few minutes later and climbs under the blankets. I fully expect him to keep to the opposite side and be out like a light within seconds, but the warmth of his hand on my stomach sends me reeling. He pulls me into him, into his arms.
He doesn't say a word.
I stir the next morning with my face flush against his chest, waking to the sound of his beating heart against my ear.
THIRTY-SEVEN
DANE
Bronson drives us to work Tuesday morning. I typically use this time to reflect, maybe answer a few emails, gather my thoughts, or admire the country landscape before it morphs into a sea of buildings.
But today I'm taking in a different view.
Bellamy glides her hand along her skirt, picking off a stray piece of fuzz. Her long legs are crossed, and she's staring straight ahead. We haven't spoken much this morning besides a few pleasantries at breakfast while I read the news on my iPad, and she chatted with her sister about which courses she would be taking come fall.
"I loved a woman once."
Bellamy's attention snaps in my direction.
"Only once."
She angles herself toward me.
"She was my sub," I say, squinting out the dark window at the cars we pass. "But then she became much more than that."
Her hands fidget in her lap.
"The woman destroyed me. I played with fire, and I got burned. I promised myself I'd never do that again." My hand slides into my pocket, covering the red Cartier box I tucked away that morning.
"If this is about last night … you don't have to say anything … I know you just did that because – "
"Please. Let me continue."
She buttons her full lips and nods.
"I'm a powerful man, and love is a powerful emotion. I don't know that I'm quite ready yet to put myself out there or to throw around a word that makes people do crazy stupid things." I slide the box out and set it across my lap. "The only thing I do know, is you do something to me, Bellamy. Even when I'm dominating you on the outside, I'm submitting to you on the inside. While I'm not quite sure what to make of that, I do know one thing."
I place the box in her lap.
"I'm not ready to let you go yet. I'm not done with you yet."
Bellamy cracks the box open and pulls out the golden Cartier bangle. I lift the matching golden screwdriver.
"This bracelet," I say. "Symbolizes commitment. It sanctifies our inseparability."
"Is it an item of ownership?" She examines the sparkling, bezel-set diamonds.
"This is different." I twist the screwdriver in my fingers, the only device that can unlock that bracelet from her wrist as soon as it's fastened. "This is separate from that."
"Fine," she says. "I'm not done with you yet either."
She slips the bangle over her wrist and holds it out for me to secure. I twist the flat screw and tighten it, leaning over to steal a kiss the second I'm done.
We soar down the interstate in the back of my limo, and I take her hand in mine, eyeing the gold bracelet as the diamonds glint in the early morning light.
"I've never been in love before," she says, breaking our peaceful silence. "And I'm not saying that I love you, Dane. But I think I very easily could fall in love with you...that is, if you let me."
I squeeze her hand.
"So all I'm asking," she continues, "is that you're gentle with me."
I press the top of her hand against my lips, the corners of my mouth lifting. "You have my word."
EPILOGUE
BELLAMY
ONE YEAR LATER
Puerto Vallarta at night is vibrant.
Puerto Vallarta in the morning is serene.
Puerto Vallarta in the middle of the afternoon, on a sandy beach with ocean waves crashing behind a makeshift altar is breathtaking.
My gauzy ivory dress whips around my legs as I carry a bouquet of calla lilies down a sandy aisle scattered with pink rose petals.
Dane stands under the canopy, his hair soft and free from product as he dons an untucked white shirt and cuffed linen pants. I smirk imagining Beckham picking out his clothes and helping him get ready. I could easily get used to casual, relaxed Dane, but I'm sure I'd miss his buttoned-up counterpart. All I know is I'm madly in love with every faceted side of that man.
Our gazes hold as a solitary cellist plays Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat Major.
My sister waits up ahead, smiling bright and blinking away tears. Odessa is seated next to Jensen on a folding chair. Beckham grips Dane's shoulders and gifts him a reassuring pat as he tosses me a wink.
I invited the girls out under the guise of a ladies' weekend, and I casually mentioned they could bring the guys too, assuring we could all do our own things and meet up in the evenings for couple-y things.
Little did they know, they were going to be attending a wedding.
I sent my parents a letter last month, right after Dane proposed. Perhaps it was my way of closing that chapter of my life, but I assured them that I was happy, Waverly was thriving, and that I hoped someday they would understand that our lives were never supposed to belong to anyone but ourselves.
I simply did what needed to be done.
No one replied. Maybe the letter was intercepted or maybe it was ripped to shreds and burned. I'll never know. That's in my past. I'm moving on with Dane, and I'm going to live this amazingly beautiful life to the absolute fullest because it's all mine and it's such a gift.
Dane takes my hand after I hand my bouquet to Waverly and gives it a gentle squeeze, and a justice of the peace begins the ceremony.
***
We dance under a starry sky under a blanket of stars. My toes freeze in the ocean water, but none of that matters. I can't stop staring at my beautiful husband. Our guests have long since retired to their hotel suites, but neither of us is ready to end this magical day yet.
"Thank you for this beautiful day." I rise on my toes, bringing my mouth to us and stealing a kiss.
I can do that now.
I don't have to ask for permission.
Of course we still play sometimes.
Behind closed doors, when he says the word, I fall to my knees, submit to him, and cherish every moment. A tiger can't change his stripes, and I would never expect Dane to suppress his deepest desires.
But our power has balanced. I am his equal. I love him, and he loves me. As Dane would say, it's deliciously uncomplicated.
"You're most welcome," he says, his mouth tasting mine.
The wind whips my hair around. I've celebrated hard today. My makeup is melted. My hair is a mess. My eyelids are so heavy I can barely see anymore. But I want to keep going because the moment this day is over, all we'll have are the memories. I dig my toes in the sand as if that could anchor me to this moment, and I slip my arms around my husband.
"It's you and me," he says, kissing the top of my head. "Who'd have thought our broken, twisted paths would've led us here?"
Dane twirls me in the moonlight and smiles. For the first several months of knowing him, he rarely offered smiles. Now they're a mainstay.
My love makes him happy.
"Aren't you exhausted?" he asks, pulling me back into him.
"Deliriously so." I grin, breathing in the salty air as it mixes with what remains of his cologne.
He threads his fingers through mine and pulls me away from the lapping shore. "Come. This day isn't over until I make love to my wife."
The End.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AMAZON BESTSELLING AUTHOR Winter Renshaw recently celebrated her third 29th birthday. By day, she wrangles kids and dogs, and by night, she wrangles words. She loves peonies, lipstick, and balmy summer days. Chips and salsa are her jam, and so is cruising down the highway with the windows down and the air blasting while 80s rock blares from the speakers of her Mom-UV.
She would describe her writing style as sexy, conflicted, and laced with heart. Her heroes are always alpha and her heroines are always smart and independent. HEA guaranteed.
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PAGE AHEAD for a BONUS/DELETED scene from Arrogant Master …
BONUS/DELETED SCENE – UNEDITED
*This was originally chapter 2!
My father sits at the head of the dining room table, exactly where I predicted he would be.
"I'm so sorry." I rush to the seat next to him, smiling like a fool who's just won the lottery, and yank out a chair before plopping down. I'm getting out of here, and it starts now. Tonight. "You'll never believe what happened tonight!"