Page 113 of Carnal Wagers

Cheeks round like a chipmunk’s, I muffled with all seriousness, “Are you not going to say I’m yours?”

“You better know you are, or you won’t be leaving my bed for the next week.”

He bent forward and licked away a crumb from the corner of my mouth. A rush of wetness flooded between my legs, and I gulped down the mouthful.

“You get that list down for me, and I’ll get right on showing you what it means to be mine.”

A calloused hand skimmed up my inner thigh, a delicious scratch catching on my bare skin, and I shivered out a needy moan. His fingers climbed up higher and higher, each one grooving deeper into my thigh. It made me clench around nothing at all, my pussy desperate to be filled again.

I caught his hand, my chest heaving. “Get me paper and a pen, and I’ll start.”

In one sharp movement, he spun me around into the island and smacked my butt. A spark of pain licked at my skin, and I groaned.

“Think you can give me orders now?”

“When haven’t I?” I teased breathlessly, trying to take back the control he so effortlessly stole from me.

“You’re trouble.”

He had no idea.

“So that paper?” I urged. “The list?”

His head thumped against my spine. “Yes, the damn list. Stay exactly where you are.”

I watched him track across the living room, adjusting his hardness in his shorts, a little surprised at his dedication to this list. The moment he disappeared into his office, I snatched up my phone and pulled up a messaging thread with Erel and Franc.

Alizé

Green light. Five upcoming sales. One month max.

Erel

Let the goblet games begin.

I almost felt bad for lying to Cillian, but I hardened my heart. This was for the best. At least this way, I had insurance.

Chapter 29

The list apparently mattered.

Not only did Cillian force me to move in with him that same day, but he really meant it when he said he wanted to grant all my wishes. I wrote a list, filled with every silly romantic ideal I’d ever had, fully believing he’d attempt one, maybe two. Instead, the instant I handed the first draft to him, he photographed it and set out to fulfill them.

Mimosas while watching the sunset on a picnic blanket. Done that very same evening on the rooftop of his building, followed by a full-service candlelight dinner under the stars.

Retail shopping in his company. He took me twice. Per his request, I modeled every outfit, and every time he approved one, he came into the stalls with me and fingered me to completion. I bought him a new cologne from my own line—a grapefruit, thyme, and amber blend for a fresh but rich spice scent—and he wore it every day without question. It was probably the sexiest thing a man had ever done for me.

Attempt a pottery class together. Checked off on day two.

An axe and knife throwing date, we did on day five. I beat him so badly, we went twice more to the same venue before he called his brothers to dedicate space in their boxing gym for target practice.

Receive a playlist made by my lover. Somehow, he curated one to my exact tastes in under a week and a half.

A kayaking trip together in unfortunately less-than-ideal temperatures. Done, on day three.

Next was whitewater rafting, because I knew he needed a few heart-thumping activities mixed in. We followed that with camping.

A few days later, we drove up to New Hampshire to Jericho Mountain State Park, where we rented off-highway recreational vehicles, and I experienced the rumbling thrill of riding off-road for the first time. Each jolt and bump ricocheted jitters up my ass and spine and through my arms as we navigated the scenic paths, my stomach in my throat the whole time.