Page 107 of Carnal Wagers

I stifled a gasp and swiveled my head around.

He was still here. Right next to me.

My heart soared, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered up and down in my belly. My cheeks bunched under a closed-lip smile so wide the stretch ached.

He was still here. He stayed by my side. Just like he said he would.

Until next time, a voice whispered in a dark corner of my mind. Until he needs more convincing, again.

I exhaled softly. Nothing good came from thinking like that. I had to believe there wouldn’t be a next time and that he thought I was worth staying for. Well, that Alice Marine was worth it.

He might not have felt any attachment to Alizé De Villier, but there obviously was something there with Alice Marine. That was enough for now. Below the name, I was the same person. If he could feel for me as Alice, he could feel for me as his wife.

I reared back. What was I saying? Those weren’t the thoughts of someone who wanted a divorce. Did I want the divorce anymore? It had always been about finding someone to love and to be loved by. If he really fell in love with me and I with him, wasn’t that achieving my endgame?

My fingers twitched nervously along the bedsheets splayed over my chest. I needed to fix my makeup, brush my teeth, and deal with the tangles in my hair before he noticed I looked anything less than perfect and reconsidered whatever this new development between us was. I slowly untangled the sheets around me, then gently tried moving his hand off my hip.

He resisted and burrowed his fingers into my skin to hold me in place. I winced under the bruising grip.

“Cillian…”

I twisted fully around to face him and gasped, surprised to find him awake. Except his open eyes stared vacantly through me, not at me.

“Cillian?”

His lips were parted, and divots burrowed deep, painful creases between his brows. He looked lost. A lone tear crawled down the side of his nose.

“Chéri?” I cupped his jawline and spread the wetness of that tear over his cheekbone. He made no response. “Are you awake?”

Slowly, in case he was stuck in a lucid dream, I bent over and pressed a soft kiss to his chin. His eyes drifted down to me, but that unmoored look still glossed them over. I kissed the corner of his lips. Clarity flickered over his gaze. I pecked the other corner. Now, the blue of his irises darkened.

“There you are.” My lips grazed his, a soft brush at first, painfully slow and deliberate, just a little tease to bring him back.

There was nothing foggy about his stare anymore. It burned with a hunger that sent electric shivers crackling over my skin.

“Welcome bac—” He swallowed the rest of the word with his mouth.

There was an urgency to the kiss. He dragged me close and squeezed me tight as if worried I’d escape. His lips and tongue frantically demanded access, every swipe messy and desperate. His hands stroked my back, my face, my front. Everywhere. Not a single spot went untouched. Every breath, he stole. Every whimper, he hoarded. Without warning, his fingers found my clit, and I gasped at the unexpected surge of heat, an advantage he seized.

His tongue took control of my mouth. His hands shifted my bare center over his hard shaft, rocking me up and down over it in a tingling rush of goosebumps. The fuse had been lit and now hissed and burned to whatever end may come.

He flipped us, and my back hit the mattress as he loomed over me. When he impaled me in one harsh thrust into my sore pussy, I yelped into his mouth. He drove into me with desperation. It was a dizzying and frantic pounding I could only brace for, tearing sounds from my throat I’d never heard before.

He hit so deep, plundering through my caution and restraint until my body was alight, ready to burst. Our skin slapped and stuck. Every ram of his hips bottomed him out inside me. It smarted yet made me soar with pleasure, and I never wanted it to end. With one little flick to my clit, my body blew over the peak and fell in a tumbling mess. His orgasm followed close behind, and he rolled off me with a rasped grunt.

Reverently, his fingers pushed his dripping cum back inside my abused core. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to, and a gleam of primal satisfaction curled his face. I shouldered him weakly, and his responding wicked chuckle made me abandon my futile attempts to get him off me.

“You’re evil,” I huffed out, my limbs nothing but jelly.

He scrunched my face between his hands and smacked a kiss to my forcefully puckered lips.

“Now that’s how I want to wake up every morning.”

At my grimace, he tossed his head back and laughed, a true laugh that erased every dark line on his face. The sheet followed him when he slid off me.

I pitched over the side of the bed to slap the perfect globes of his ass as he strutted to the bathroom, because there was no way that was happening every morning if he was going to quip at my expense. Not if my poor pussy got half destroyed every night. Recuperation time was a real thing.

Water whooshed in the bathroom. I collapsed back on the bed in a huff of plushy comforter and down pillows, then propped my head up against my hand to admire the view.