I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her waist, my fingers playing with the exposed curve of her spine, and started swaying.
“Where did you learn to dance?”
I huffed a laughed. “My mom taught me some basics when I was little. She claimed a good man could win any woman over with smooth moves; at least that was her excuse for falling for my dad.”
“They sound like they were happy.”
“Very. When she died, I took a few classes to keep part of her close to me.” I pulled back enough to meet her eyes and smirked. “And to win over the ladies.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled before tucking her head back against my chest.
“My mom loved Billie Holiday. She loved all the oldies.”
I knew that. She’d mentioned it in passing when I caught her in the kitchen with Dean Martin on. It was why I requested they play them in the suite.
Billie Holiday shifted to Frank Sinatra to Ben E. King, and with each song, I worked us closer to the bedroom across the foyer. By the time we reached the foot of the bed, my body ached to feel her lips on mine—to peel her wedding dress from her body and bury myself inside her all night long.
I drifted my hand up her back and into her hair, softly tugging her head back, so I could lean in for a taste. Her glossy lips parted, and I was inches from heaven when she pulled away.
Wide, nervous eyes met mine. But behind the nerves sat the resolve I’d been trying to break through all night, and my brows lowered before she even spoke.
“We’re not in the limo anymore, Nico. And no one is clinking their glasses.”
My teeth clenched, and I inhaled through my nose, searching to hold my irritation back.
“I said I wasn’t sleeping with you.”
“Vera,” I growled.
“Nico,” she said, standing taller. Her resolve locked in place, and I knew there would be no getting past it.
Frustration had me wanting to storm out. To slam the door behind me. We both knew she wanted to sleep with me and that it was sheer stubbornness that stopped her. My blood pumped for release, and my muscles ached from holding back for so long.
But it was my wedding night, and I wouldn’t run from my own wife. If I was frustrated, then she could damn well deal with it, even if I was a bear for the rest of the night. She could deny me, and I’d always respect her, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t be pissed about it. It didn’t mean I couldn’t still get what I wanted in another way.
With a growl, I turned her around to face the bed and started working the tiny buttons on the back of her dress.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Helping you out of this contraption. I’m assuming someone helped you in, and unless you want to sleep in it forever, you’ll need me. Or should I call someone to come up?”
“No. But Nico, I said I’m not sl—”
“So I heard.”
Working the last button free, the heavy skirt parted, and I groaned.
“Like a fucking present I can’t even open.”
I stared at the small satin bow adorning the top of the strings holding mostly transparent lace over her ripe ass. She shivered when I dragged my fingers up her back and brushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders. The material fell down to pile against the full skirt. Holding one of her hands for support, I used the other to push the skirt down.
“Step.”
She did as she was told, revealing lace garters I wanted to rip off her. I pushed the dress aside, not caring about anything but making this inferno inside me ease. My cock throbbed from the constant teasing all night long, from knowing that this woman was mine—my wife. A word I never knew would make me as hard as stone.
My desperation made me rough when I gripped her hips and jerked her around to face me before lifting her enough to toss her back on the bed. Her bare breasts bounced, adding fuel to the fire, the rosy tips hardening to stiff points. Without wasting time, I put one knee on the bed and then the other, shedding my jacket and bow tie before working on the buttons of my shirt.
“Wha—what are you doing?” She scooted back to the pillows, worry and excitement, coloring her beautiful face.
I could have her, I realized with each inch I moved closer. I could have her, but I wanted her to come willingly. I didn’t want her giving in because I’d seduced her into caving. I wanted her to give in because she wanted it and knew she’d want it again every day after. If I had her tonight, she’d make excuses tomorrow.