The Resistance(99)

“Hi,” I whisper, leaning against the doorway, feeling better just seeing him.

He turns and my eyes travel down, noticing his pants hanging open. His tattoos show and I can’t lie, I missed them. “C’mere,” he says, leaning back against the large ledge of the window. When I walk, my skirt flows behind me and this time, his eyes travel down to my exposed legs. “I like the dress.”

“Thanks,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands slide up and down the outside of my thighs.

“I like it, but I want it off. Do you want to keep it?”

My eyes go wide, and I laugh. “You want to rip my dress off me?”

His right hand slips between my thighs and moves up slowly until he discovers his wedding gift. “No panties?”

What else do you get the man who has everything. “I figured what’s the point if they were going to be destroyed anyway.” Brushing one of my fingertips across his eyebrows, I say, “I didn’t count on the dress being its replacement.”

His fingers find the spot that makes me fall apart and he begins rubbing softly. “I haven’t kissed you enough today. That needs to be remedied,” he says, pulling me closer by the back of the neck.

Tightening my grip on his shoulders, I kiss him. My tongue tingles when it touches his and I can taste the cinnamon gum he was chewing. He pulls back, his hand leaving me as he slides my skirt up. I’m exposed to him—baring my soul as much as my body. He kisses the apex of my thighs then his tongue tastes me, ending with a kiss. Standing abruptly, he spins us around until I’m the one with my back against the window sill. He lifts me by my waist until I’m perched on the ledge. The lower half of my body is left exposed as the skirt flares out around me.

With his hands, he gently pulls my knees apart, licks his bottom lip then bites it. “You look so fucking sexy like that.”

Grabbing him by the loose ends of his belt, I pull him closer until his legs are between mine. Crossing my ankles behind his knees, I trap him. The warmth of his palms roll over my shoulders as one works its way up the back of my neck and into my hair. He pulls my hair together, holding it in his hand then pulls down, causing me to look up. My hazels meet his greens and the desire he has for me shines from within. “Don’t ever doubt how much I want you. I always want you so much. Too much.” Before I have a chance to respond his mouth crashes into mine and he kisses me hard and deep, frenzied and passionate. He takes and takes, pressing himself against me.

I pull back, resting my head against the cool of the glass, trying to catch my breath. Standing over me, he leans forward, his hands going flat above my head and looking down, trying to calm himself. He’s failing. His chest pumps in and out, his fingers tap on the glass, the sound of impatience or lust.

The cold marble under me penetrates the tulle of my skirt, making me shiver, so I lift up as he stares out over the bright lights of the city. I touch my tongue to his chest and follow the curve of the tiger tattoo. His skin is smooth just bordering on the outside of his light chest hair. Reaching up, I take hold of his shoulders and drag him down. Arms swoop under me, his hands chilled from the glass as he lifts me. Our mouths are bonded until he tosses me on the bed. “I want that dress off. Now.”

I sink into the down comforter and watch as he drops his pants to the floor, his prominent erection thick and hard. I detach the belt that holds the skirt on and roll to my stomach. “Unzip me.”

Starting at my feet, he wraps his large hands around my ankles. “I like these shoes. Keep them on.” I peek over my shoulder and see him moving onto the bed. On his knees, straddling my body, his hands slide over my calves to the back of my thighs. A kiss to each leg leads his warmth to my backside as he pushes the short dress up and over my ass. His breaths deepen. “I want to be inside you.”

“Unzip me, Dalton.”

The tips of his fingers drag along my back as the zipper comes down with ease. I slink underneath him and sit up on my knees. When I get to my feet, my dress falls to the floor. Wearing nothing but an expensive pair of high heels, I feel provocative, empowered. “You ready for me, my hot husband?”

I’m yanked, landing on my back in the middle of the mattress. Leaning over me, he says, “The question is…” He pulls my arms above my head, and spreads my legs with his, positioning himself over me. “Are you ready for me, gorgeous wife?”

“Always.”

His body becomes one with mine, stirring a groan from deep within his chest while my breath is whisked away. With each thrust, I’m pushed higher as he grips my wrists tighter. In an instant, he releases me and lowers, his mouth finding my breast and covering it, peaking it. He bites and I gasp from the pain, his tongue swirling around to ease the effect. Touching his head, I pull him up to face me, eye-level. His thrusts are still intense despite my efforts to slow him down. “Make love to me, Dalton.”