I still hadn’t called them. I didn’t want the conversation to ruin my wedding day.
Van went on, “That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy you on your knees. I’ll never turn down the offer. I just want you to know that while you never need to bow, I will—but only to you.”
The weight of his words filled me.
I am Mrs. Julia Sherman.
My thoughts remained in the present as, standing, Van offered me his hand.
I stood.
After kicking off his shoes and peeling away his socks, with my hand in his, he led me down the hallway toward our bedroom. As it had been in the front room, the fireplace in this room was also filled with flames. And more bouquets of roses occupied the tables. With the light of the flames, I saw that our bed had been turned down.
My desire was obvious by my nipples and damp core. I wasn’t alone. Van’s boxers did little to hide his erection.
“I want my gift,” Van said, his deep tenor twisting my core, “naked and on the bed.”
“If I disobey” —I grinned— “will you spank me?”
“Oh, beautiful.” He pulled the satin tie from my shoulders. “First things first.” His fingers came to the waistband of my lace panties and tugged them down. As I stepped out of the panties and my shoes, the penny fell to the carpeting.
Crouching on his haunches, Van lifted the penny and grinned up at me.
“A penny in my shoe,” I said. “It’s supposed to be good luck.”
“And you walked around on it all day?”
I nodded.
On his hands and knees, he stalked toward me, directing me backward until my ass hit the edge of our bed.
His back straightened as he sat on his knees. “Are you wet?”
My heart thumped against my breastbone as I looked into his gaze. With only a change in his tone, he could make my body react. This was the man I’d spend the rest of my life with.
How could I not?
We had red sin.
I nodded. “Always for you.”
“Up on the bed or I’m lifting you.”
With my hands at my side, I jumped, my ass landing on the edge. Van had not yet stood. Instead, he scooted closer as one by one, he lifted my legs to his wide shoulders.
Before I could appreciate the sight of Donovan Sherman on his knees, I called out as his tongue delved inside me. I couldn’t comprehend everything he was doing. Every nerve within me was electrified. Synapse after synapse crackled through my circulation.
The man who could make a three-million-dollar piano sing with magical fingers was at work. A master pianist, his fingers and mouth played me as if I too were a hand-crafted instrument.
My moans and whimpers competed against the deep-timbered curses and praises and the crackle of the fire. By the time Van joined me on the bed, my limbs were weak as a ragdoll.
“That was…” I said as his lips captured mine. His tongue danced with mine and his fingers twisted and tugged at my nipples. The energy I thought was lost came back with vigor as Van molded me to his liking and we came together.
Two pieces of a puzzle to be forever linked.
Julia
Ipoured Van a cup of coffee before pouring my own. He was sitting at the breakfast bar, watching my every move.