“Exactly what my pa and her dad wanted. Marriage. Babies. A union of not only families, but businesses.”
“Who broke it off?”
“I did,” he says while he takes a sip of his water. I can’t help but stare at those lips and wonder how many countless hours were spent sucking perfect Iris’s nipples. How many times they sucked on her clit . . .
“You broke it off?” I ask.
His expression grows serious as he twists his water on the table, staring at the glass and swishing liquid. “She was perfect. Everything a man could possibly ask for. She cooked. She kept our place clean. She even would greet me when I came home, naked, begging me to fuck her.” I honestly think I could throw up. His eyes flash to mine. “But she was empty. A shell. There was no substance to her. Sure, fucking her at first was fun, because who doesn’t like sex? But after a while, I noticed the lack of life in her pupils. There was no passion. No excitement. She didn’t love me. She was just playing the part, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want this woman playing a role for the benefit of our families. I broke it off and then fled to the States, hoping and praying I’d score a teaching job.”
Trying to swallow the confession about their sex life, I push past it and focus on what he said. “What, uh . . . what’s it like fucking me?”
When I look up at him, I catch the tick in his tight, tense jaw. His expression is unwavering and he never diverts his eyes away as he answers me. “Fucking you feels like I’m brought into another world, your world. There’s emotion behind it. There’s passionate need. There’s feeling in your touch, in the way you grip my hair, in the way your pussy clenches around my cock. I feel you, Cora, to my bloody core. I feel you. I never got that with her. It’s why I’m addicted to you, and only you.”
My lips roll together and I can’t help but feel silly for even asking. I married this man because a guy who pushes a gondola around for a living basically bet me I wouldn’t. There was nothing between us other than a passion for eating pretzels while drunk. I spent the first month of our marriage harassing him, making his life a living hell to scare him away. And then I proceeded to humiliate him in front of colleagues because I have a hard time letting someone in, someone I care about. The foundation of our relationship is based off mini liquor bottles and lies.
I have no basis to even be asking him the things I’m asking him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling completely ridiculous. “I had no right to ask you that.”
“Yes, you did,” he says. “You’re my wife, Cora. You have the right to ask me anything.”
I let out a deep sigh. “You take that title so seriously. Why? You barely know me.”
“Remember what I said about loyalty?”
I nod.
“You have that loyalty until you strip it away. So, yes, I take the title seriously. I take our marriage seriously, and I’ll do everything I can to see if we can make this work, because I like you, Cora. With you, I feel I’ve made the right match. Even if it was accidental in the beginning.”
With you, I feel I’ve made the right match. That’s what hasn’t made sense. Why he chose to stay with me, especially when I was—am—a hot mess. Keenan never thought I was worth his time, let alone his loyalty. “Marriage to you was only for what I could get from you. Your fucking fortune. Why are you stupid enough not to know that? Why would I want to be married to you?”
God, I hated that moment when Keenan yelled those words at me. Yet, in front of me is a man who’s choosing to be loyal because he made vows he won’t recant. He wants me for me.
Attempting to lighten the mood, I ask, “How’s that going for you so far?”
“Could be better if my wife were to actually sit next to me.”
“I think that could be arranged, but first . . . shall we get dessert?”
“I was hoping your pussy would be dessert tonight, but I can always have two.”
My cheeks flame.
“I’m never going to complain about two desserts.”
“I’m trusting you, you know,” Pike says, whispering in my ear.
After our waiter cleared our plates from the table and we ordered dessert, I switched to Pike’s side of the booth and sank into his embrace as his strong, toned arm wrapped around my shoulders. I let my hand drift to his thigh and slowly took advantage of the privacy of our table as I dragged my fingers up and down the length of his quad. When my fingers danced over his cock, I delighted in the strangled moan that came from his throat, followed by his lips pressing to my ear and offering me an empty warning.