Page 193 of The Unwilling Bride
I huff. "That was not meant as a compliment."
This time, his lips quirk in a knowing smile.
"Okay, it was a backhanded compliment," I concede.
His expression turns serious. "I promise, you’ll enjoy it." Then something flickers in his eyes. He freezes.
"Are you still a virgin?"
It’s one of the reasons he refused to sleep with me when we met.
I’m not keen to be drawn into that discussion right now, because my answer would still be in the affirmative. And that might scare him off, again. And I really, really don’t want that to happen.
I also don’t want to lie to him. I sit up, wrap my arms around my bent knees, and stay silent.
Realization dawns in his eyes. He crouches over me on the bed. "Hey, it’s okay if you are."
"Is it?"
He places his hands on my knees.
"I'm surprised; I didn't expect you to still be a virgin. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t give me a visceral thrill to realize I’ll be your first."
I search his features. The heat in his eyes, and the possessiveness in his expression convince me he’s serious.
I relax a little. "I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier."
"I understand. It’s not something that’s easy to bring up." He rubs his thumb over my knee. Goosebumps shiver out from his touch.
Of course, he notices. "I love how responsive you are to my touch." He runs his knuckles gently over the raised skin.
I tremble. "I don’t want you to think I didn’t have opportunities to sleep with other men. But my mind was so occupied with my wanting to be a chef, I didn’t have the energy left to be with anyone else. And I’m not a one-night stand kind of person."
He cups my cheek, his palm large and calloused, the heat of it sinking deep into my skin. He’s looking at me with an intensity that makes the air in the room feel thin, like we’re standing at the top of a mountain.
"Whatever the reason, you’ve got to know how I’ll feel being your first…"
I shake my head, my breath hitching in my throat. I can’t find my voice; the sheer gravity of his gaze has pinned it to the back of my tongue.
"It makes me feel fucking possessive."
He leans in closer, his massive frame looming over me until he’s bracketing me between his legs. The physical weight of him is everywhere. It’s an anchor, a cage, and a promise. I can feel the hard line of his thighs against mine. I can see the lines of tension radiating from his eyes. It feels like the Ice Commander is finally surrendering to something vital and unrefined.
"It makes me want to give you so much pleasure that you’ll never forget the first time you made love," he whispers against my lips.
He means when we’re no longer together. But I’m not going to let that weigh me down.
Not when I’m in his bed. And we’re both naked. And he’s looking at me like he can’t wait to be inside of me.
I rise up on my knees and wrap my arms around his neck. "Fuck me, Chef."
55
James
Jesus Christ. Hearing that from her is like a concentrated hit of the finest saffron. It’s rare, it’s intoxicating, and it goes straight to my head, bypassing my sense of reason and leaving me starving for more.
I kiss her deeply, and she instantly responds. My cock, which is ready for action, twitches impatiently. I gently lower her onto the bed and cover her body with mine. I make sure to keep most of my weight off her, but she sighs.
