by M. S. Parker
“Yes, husband,” I said with a smile. It might've been old-fashioned, but I secretly loved the way “husband” sounded when I said it aloud. And I loved even more knowing that he thought of us as an equal partnership.
A comfortable silence fell as we finished our meal, but near the end, I found him watching me with a strange expression on his face. Like he had something he knew he had to say, but he knew that I wouldn't like it.
“Out with it,” I said.
“What?”
“Whatever it is you don't want to say. Just say it.”
He sighed as he took my hand. “We have to go back.”
“Go back where?” I really hoped he wasn't suggesting what I thought.
“Back to my home to explain everything to my father.” He gave me a partial smile. “And to introduce you as my wife.”
Yeah, that was going to go over well.
And there was something else.
“You know at some point we’ll have to take a side?” I said it as gently as I could. “And with what I know, there's only one side we can take.”
He sighed. “I know.” His smile widened. “But not tonight, because tonight is our wedding night. Any decisions we have to make can wait.”
Twenty-Nine
The room he'd rented was large and simple with a small dresser, a few side tables and a jug of water. The bed was simple as well, but the sheets looked clean, and that was all I cared about at the moment.
Walking a few paces in front of Gracen, I stopped and looked over my shoulder. “Care to help me with this dress, Mr. Lightwood?”
“I would, Mrs. Lightwood.”
I shivered, though I wasn't sure if it was from the name, or from the cool air as the dress slipped to the floor. I turned toward him, then chuckled at the look on his face. He clearly hadn't paid much attention to my undergarments before.
“It's called a bra,” I said as I reached behind me to unhook it. “I’ll explain later.”
Gracen's eyes darkened as they slid down my body, and I let him look. There was no embarrassment, no hiding necessary. He knew all of my secrets.
“Your turn.”
He shed his clothes quickly, never taking his eyes off of me. When he was naked, it was my turn to admire his lean muscles and tanned skin. I ran my gaze down his chest and stomach to the thick shaft curving up from golden curls. I licked my lips and heard Gracen moan.
Then he was there, his hands sliding over me, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples. He claimed my lips, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. I put my hands on his shoulders, feeling the strength there.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered against his lips. “And don't be gentle.”
He gave me a startled look that darkened the moment I caught his bottom lip between my teeth. His hands drew lines down my body, electrifying everywhere he touched and leaving every cell tingling. They finally came to rest on my hips, moving me backwards until I reached the bed. Without taking his gaze off of me, he pushed me back. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him down on top of me.
A moan escaped me as our bodies pressed together, and my fingers dug into him. I wrapped my legs around his waist. The tip of his cock brushed against me, and I arched up against him. We had plenty of time later to explore, to learn all of the ways we could bring pleasure to each other. I just needed him inside me.
Now.
I ran my nails down his back until they reached his ass. I pulled him even as I lifted my hips, letting the first couple inches slide inside. He moaned my name, then cursed as he pushed the rest of the way into me. His muscles flexed under my hands as he began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes.
Time evaporated, and nothing else mattered as he moved against me, each time filling me more than the last. We'd had a connection before, but this was different. Some of it was because he was my husband because he'd made that forever commitment to be, even when he knew how many problems our marriage would cause. Most of it, however, I knew came from my confession. Now that he knew it all, that we'd shared our deepest secrets with each other, we could give ourselves freely, hold nothing back. As I begged him to drive himself into me harder, faster, I could see on his face that he understood it too. We didn't have to pretend, didn't have to worry about hurting each other. We were both strong, both fighters. We could protect each other, love each other. Equally.
My orgasm exploded through me, and I cried out his name, not caring if anyone else heard. I loved my husband, loved the pleasure that he was giving me, and I refused to be ashamed of it. He pressed his face against the crook of my neck, muffling his own groan as he reached his climax. My body tightened around him, muscles spasming as I came again.
One day, I realized with a start, this would give us a child. We didn't have access to birth control, no real way to keep me from getting pregnant. And the thought didn't concern me like it would have if it had been a different man spending himself inside me. The thought of a family with Gracen was a happy one.
He rolled off of me and pulled the sheets up over us. Neither of us spoke as we settled into the rapidly dimming light.
“I love you, Honor,” he murmured as he kissed the top of my head.
“I love you too.” I snuggled against him, letting myself relax in the safety and warmth of his arms.
I woke suddenly to a dark room, and was briefly disoriented, not recognizing my surroundings until the arm around me tightened, and I remembered where I was. And who I was with. I shifted, pulling Gracen's arm closer as I put my head back on his chest. I smiled at the sound of his steady heartbeat.
As I waited for sleep to come again, my mind turned to our imminent return to the Lightwood estate. I knew exactly how Roston would take the news of our marriage, and it wouldn’t be pretty. I thought of Clara too and felt a pang of guilt. Then I remembered the selfish way she had tried to manipulate Gracen into joining the army because of how it would make her look. And the fact that the engagement wasn’t one of love.
Not like this.
A bolt of fear went through me, and I pressed myself more closely to Gracen. I knew the dangers of what was coming, but it wasn't the war I was frightened of. Not really. I knew there'd be risks, but it was the true unknown that scared me. The unknown about what had brought me here...and what could send me home.
That wasn't home now though. My home was lying next to me, and I was suddenly terrified that I might lose him.
“Please,” I whispered into the darkness. To what or who, I didn't know, but I didn't care. All I cared was that it didn't send me back. “Please, let me stay.”
I listened intently until I felt sleep coming to claim me again, but no answer came.
The Lightwood Affair continues in Fear and Honor (The Lightwood Affair Book 2). Click Here to download it now.
Also by M. S. Parker
The Rockstar’s Virgin
SEALionaire
Make Me Yours
The Billionaire’s Mistress
Con Man Box Set
HERO Box Set
A Legal Affair Box Set
The Champ
The Client
Indecent Encounter
Dom X Box Set
Unlawful Attraction Box Set
Chasing Perfection Box Set
Blindfold Box Set
Club Prive Box Set
The Pleasure Series Box Set
Exotic Desires Box Set
Pure Lust Box Set
Casual Encounter Box Set
Sinful Desires Box Set
Twisted Affair Box Set
Serving HIM Box Set
Acknowledgments
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of all my series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be
a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About the Author
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Las Vegas, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
For more information:
www.msparker.com
[email protected]