“Why not? I was forced to,” she deadpans, those golden flecks like tiny daggers to my chest.
I’m not sure if it’s her confession of not having been touched by another man in the last decade that has me spiraling, but before I know what I’m doing, my eyes land on her mouth. Soft lips tantalize me, the bottom one fuller than its counterpart, begging to be tugged, sucked, and pulled. When she sees my tongue lick my suddenly parched lips, her breathing picks up, drawing my attention away from her luscious mouth back to the fullness of her breasts.
“There is no need for you to be nervous with me,” I say, my voice rough and telling. “I’m not a stranger. I’m your husband.”
“Right now, they are one and the same,” she replies despondently, lowering her gaze from me and onto the mirror in front of us.
“If that’s the case, then why were you disappointed at the fact that I would rather sleep on the couch than share a bed with you?”
“Who says I’m disappointed?”
“Are you saying you aren’t?”
“Disappointment was my father telling me at seventeen that I was to marry a man I’ve never met. A sworn enemy at that. Disappointment was me being sent out to live in a country where I have no family or friends to speak of. You wishing not to sleep in my bed on our wedding night pales in comparison. In fact, I’m sure it’s the only blessed reprieve I’ll get for what undoubtedly will be a life filled with more disappointments.”
Fuck does she know how to push a man’s buttons!
I tug the ties of her corset again, this time forcing her back to be flush against my chest. I do my best not to focus on how her body perfectly molds itself to mine in all the right places, or how easy it would be for me to lift up her flowing skirt and sink deep inside her. I’d make sure to erase the word ‘disappointment’ from her vocabulary, one thrust at a time.
Instead, I lower my mouth to her ear, her skin instantly breaking out in goosebumps with just my warm breath tickling her long neck.
“If this is your way of enticing me into your bed, then someone should have taught you the art of seduction.”
“Seduction?” She breathes out the word in such a way it feels like a gentle stroke to my cock. “You’ve won your prize, fair and square, Tiernan. Why seduce someone if the world views them as already yours?”
Fuck.
I swallow the groan that wants to come out at the sound of my name on her lips.
“Is that what you are, Rosa?” I ask as my fingers run circles on her bare shoulder. “Mine?”
As I anticipated, she refuses to give me an answer, but she doesn’t have to. My wife’s body betrays her when she’s unable to hide the shiver that runs down her spine.
“To do with as I please?” I add hoarsely as my hand travels up from her shoulder onto the pulse point on her neck, feeling her heart rate speed up under my fingertips.
“Is that how you saw this playing out tonight? That I would take you just because some piece of paper said you were mine?”
“If I’m not yours, then whose am I? Not mine, that’s for sure. I’ve never been mine.”
The melancholy that resurfaces in her voice stops me cold in my tracks.
I take a step back, and immediately she lets out a relieved breath.
“One thing you should know about me if we are to get along is that I don’t believe in ownership. I prefer my women to come to me willingly. I know that doesn’t mean much considering the situation we find ourselves in, but I will not take something that isn’t freely given. Hence why I am going to sleep on the couch. So breathe easy, Rosa. Your virtue is safe.”
I watch her forehead crease in confusion but don’t say anything more on the matter. With nimble fingers, I start taking the rest of the ties out of her corset. When I pull the ribbon out of its last loop, her dress falls to her feet in an instant, making my breath catch in my throat, and I curse the fates that delivered her to my door. If I knew that underneath the dress would be virginal white lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination, then I would have forced her to sleep in the damn thing.
Gorgeous sun-kissed skin glistens along every groove and valley of her body, only serving to stretch my restraint to its fullest extent.
No one could ever mistake Rosa for a delicate flower.
She’s all woman.
Long legs that lead up to thick thighs and a mouthwatering pear-shaped ass, paired with a slender waist that is perfect for large hands to grab on to.
However, when she turns around and I see those ample breasts being covered up by lace, as well as her crossed arms, I frown.