The Marriage Mistake(62)
Her heart shattered at his flat tone. She wrapped her arms around him for body warmth and listened.
“I found him in London. He ended up just an old drunk who didn’t give a shit. No exotic past or legitimate excuses.”
“Did you ever speak with him?”
“Yes. He knew who I was when I saw him in the bar. And he didn’t care. Never wanted me as a baby, and didn’t give a shit that I grew up. He gave me money. He thought that should be enough.” Carina wondered what it felt like to have your own blood deny you any part of their heritage or memories. No wonder he isolated himself so much. No wonder he never wanted to take a chance on anything permanent. “But I was finally able to let it go. I was tired of living my life for a ghost that never really was. I left London the next day and never looked back.”
They both knew it was a lie. Everyone looked back. But for now, she allowed him the space.
“I think your mom forgave him. I think your mom still even loves him in some way.”
He craned his neck and looked down at her. “No. Mama never mentions him. Why would you think that?”
She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Because he gave her you. And you were worth everything, Maximus Gray.”
Something flashed in his eyes—an emotion she never spotted before. A tenderness that spread over her like honey and melted every part of her body.
She pressed her mouth to his. With a low groan, he slid his tongue inside and thrust deep. She linked her ankle over his calf and shifted her weight. He stirred to life.
“Damn, one day you’re going to make someone a great husband.” The words popped out of her mouth and she cursed. “Ah, crap, you know what I mean. Don’t get your ego in a tangle. This is just about sex.”
“Thanks for reminding me of my use and purpose.” Her fingers drifted, wrapping around his penis and playing. He groaned and allowed her free access, until his erection throbbed in her hand and power pumped through her veins. “Baby, you’re killing me.”
She slid down his body, straddled him, and lowered her mouth. Then smiled. “Not yet, but I will.”
She took him fully in and closed her lips around his shaft. The scent and flavor of him urged her on, and she spent long minutes enjoying giving him pleasure. Harsh expletives shot from his mouth and made her even hotter. He reared up and grabbed her before she could protest. “Condom,” he hissed out. “Now.”
Carina fumbled but got it on in seconds. With one quick motion, he lifted her up and over.
He filled her and pushed every other thought out of her mind but how she could take more of him. Tilting her hips, she set the motion, until he couldn’t wait any longer and took control. She rode him in a furious frenzy until they both came apart together. She slumped over him in a big melty pool of satisfaction and wondered if she’d ever walk again. Or do anything again without thinking about Maximus Gray.#p#分页标题#e#
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
She tamped down a giggle at the cranky tone, though his body seemed happily satisfied. “I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”
“We’re on orgasm number ten. We’re past embarrassing.”
“A banana.”
Instead of laughing, he waggled a brow. “Damn, that’s hot.”
Carina laughed with delight and realized she may just still be almost in love with Max.
Almost.
She bit down on the sudden surge of emotion. No, she’d never admit or express such words again, not since that night she’d burned the love spell and dreamed of marrying the man she loved with her heart and mind and soul.
Instead, she said nothing. Just kissed his face and held him close. And waited for dawn.
Chapter Eleven
He’d left the blinds open.
The weak light of morning pierced through and reminded him the night was officially over. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept deeply, her cute little snores confirming her exhaustion. What the hell was he going to do?
Leave her a note? Bring her coffee? Discuss the night? Remain silent? The endless options stretched before him and as a man, he was already guaranteed to pick the wrong one.
Her rich hair spread out on the pillow like a dark angel, and he spotted the telltale signs of stubble burn over her cheeks and neck. Her lips looked puffy and bruised. A sliver of guilt pierced through him. Had he used her too hard and too well? He never thought of her as a virgin. Every motion confirmed her open, raw sexuality. She was a wet dream come true—a purist with the body and soul of a seductress. In bed she exhibited a naked truth that confirmed she gave all of herself. Just like in her life.