Mr. Blackwell's Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance (A Good Wife Book 2)

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Mr. Blackwell's Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance (A Good Wife Book 2) Page 10

by Sienna Blake


  As I explored her body my own began to relax, my mind began to unclutter itself of the day’s burdens, the coils in my muscles unwinding. My focus drew solely on her, her reaction to my fingers against her clit, her breathing deepening, her body tightening, the wetness marking her entrance.

  I wanted more. I wanted to be inside her. Where no man had touched before. I slipped a finger into her soft heat. God help me, she was warm and wet. My cock ached from jealousy. I slid my finger in and out, at the same time rubbing my thumb over her clit. I was rewarded by her little gasps, noises she was trying hard not to make, her sweet little pussy growing wetter and wetter.

  25

  ____________

  Noriko

  What the hell was he doing to me?

  His fingers playing with my sex, slipping in and out of my womanhood, his thumb swirling against that sensitive button, his other hand running across my naked skin, making my flesh tighten and tingle. I was going to lose my mind.

  At the GW Agency they’d told me about sex. I understood the mechanics, I wasn’t ignorant. They had said that it was something I would likely have to endure.

  This, I never wanted to stop.

  Never in my dreams had I imagined it would feel like this… Was this some kind of voodoo? Were these feelings—so intense, threatening to consume me—normal?

  I was making noises. Oh God, I was moaning and gasping and—

  I pressed my lips together trying to keep them all in.

  He ran his thumb across my lips. “Don’t hold it in. I want to hear what I’m doing to you.”

  I released a long pent-up moan. His thumb slipped just inside my mouth. Without knowing why, I closed my lips around it and suckled it. I wanted to take him all into my mouth, into my body.

  He let out a curse. I released his thumb. Did I do something wrong?

  “You,” he said in a gruff voice that tickled the base of my body, his eyes glistening with hunger, “are going to make me certifiable.”

  He pulled away, making me whimper. “Lie on the bed.”

  My knees were weak. I half-fell, half-collapsed onto the futon. There was no grace in that movement. None. I forgot to take off my heels. I bent over to undo the strap—

  “Leave them on.”

  I looked up in surprise at Drake standing over me, unbuttoning his shirt. “You want me to leave my shoes on? In bed? But they’re…shoes.”

  He let out a groan. “Is there ever a time when you won’t argue with me, woman? Leave. Them. On.” The fire in his eyes was wild, almost feral.

  He liked it—me in bed, naked except for these heels on. A rush of power lit up my veins. He yanked his unbuttoned shirt out of his slacks and let it drop off his shoulders.

  Oh my.

  Drake had lightly tanned skin with rounded shoulders and a wide chest smattered with dark hair. A real man. I followed the waves of his rippled stomach down. Who would have thought that my husband could look like that underneath his suit?

  He draped his shirt over the back of a chair. As he slipped off his shoes and socks my curiosity burned hotter. I wanted to yell at him to undress faster, but I didn’t have enough breath to do so, it kept catching in my lungs. He slipped out of his pants, revealing strong thighs. Finally—dear God, finally—he pushed down his dark gray Armani boxer briefs, his erection springing free. It was the first time I’d ever seen a man naked. I couldn’t help but stare.

  He was beautiful.

  So beautiful he’d give Michelangelo’s David a run for his money. A statue of raw power, of masculine confidence. No wonder he was damn arrogant.

  He kneeled before me on the edge of the futon, his eyes locking onto mine. The intensity burned right through me. Right—it seemed—into my very soul. He slid his hands over my feet, still in heels, up my ankles and my calves, his touch tender and reverent. I felt like a goddess. Like I was being worshiped. I didn’t even protest when his hands slid between my knees, making me shiver. He spread open my legs. My sex, my body, my lungs, they all burned from his eyes on the most private part of me. I was totally exposed. He made a strangled sort of noise in his throat as he stared at me. Did this mean he liked what he saw?

  My body flushed—but not from shame. No. I didn’t feel shame or embarrassment; how could I when he gazed upon me with such awe? I flushed from the intimacy of his stare. From…want. From need.

  I wanted my husband.

  Don’t enjoy this too much, a voice said inside me. You’re only his wife for one year, remember? One year.

  Before I could react, he bent forward, like he was praying, and pressed his mouth to my core.

  Oh my God. I nearly tore out of my skin. The pleasure lashing through my body unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Unlike anything I could have ever dreamed could be possible on this Earth. My body jerked, trying to rise up from the futon. His hands held my hips down as he groaned against me. “Sweet Jesus, you taste like…like cherries.”

  His wet tongue dragged across my slit, teasing my entrance, swirling at the top where this foreign pleasure radiated from. His lips sucked and teased, his stubble scraping against the insides of my thighs. It was magic. As violent as a snowstorm. God, I wanted his mouth everywhere.

  I looked down and found he was looking up at me from between my legs.

  It was the single sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he slid a finger into me and curled it to hit a sensitive part I didn’t even know I had. He rubbed that spot, and licked and sucked, the pressure inside of me building up to breaking point.

  Oh my God.

  Literally, God. I thought I saw him.

  My world turned into pure light and I broke apart, my body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure and fire crashed over me. My hands fisted into the sheets. My back arched off the futon, even as Drake continued to pin my hips down.

  I blinked as I came to, the plasterwork on the ceiling coming into focus.

  What in the hell was that?

  I was suddenly aware that Drake was moving his way up my body, up, up, up until his face aligned with mine and his hips settled between my legs, his erection pressing at my soaking entrance. I clung onto his thick muscled sides. This was it. A shiver of anticipation went through me.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.” He had the most beautiful lips, wide and full, an elegantly defined shape.

  “Look at me, Noriko.”

  I lifted my lashes and was caught in his gaze. There was a concerned look on his face, a flash of fear going through his eyes. Somehow that made me feel better, less…alone in this new experience.

  “I made sure you’re ready,” he said, “but this still might hurt a little.”

  I tensed.

  He breathed in my ear, sending another shiver down my spine. “Relax.”

  “So demanding,” I muttered.

  He inched the tip of his cock inside me and paused. I could feel his eyes on me as he pulled back to look at me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, my teeth biting against my bottom lip.

  Slowly he pushed in, a slight flash of pain as he slid to the hilt. He sat foreign, low in my belly.

  He groaned. “Oh, Jesus, sweet Mother of Mercy.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I should be asking you that.” He pulled back to look at me. “You feel…you feel like…”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Blasphemy-worthy, apparently.”

  The corner of his lip quirked up. “That sounds about right.”

  He began to move, slowly at first, his thrusts shallow. All the while he watched me. I hid my eyes under my lashes because it felt too intense, something clenching and tumbling in my belly. The discomfort faded. To my surprise, that sweet, sweet pressure started to build again.

  My breathing deepened, a moan escaped me.

  Before I could demand he move faster, he did just that, sensing my urgency in the way I tilted up my hips to meet him. I
didn’t have to be taught, I was feeling my way through this experience, losing all rational thought as I succumbed to the pleasure.

  He rose up on his arms, his breath heavy and hot between us, pulling one of my knees up so he could penetrate deeper.

  Oh God. That spot. He’d found it again.

  His hand slid down between us. He vibrated the pad of his thumb against my sensitive button. I gasped and cried and my hips met him with violence and it seemed my body was completely out of my control.

  If I could paint what I was feeling, it would be vibrant reds and bright purples, whirls and wild splashes of paint flung about the canvas, stars of the brightest white sparkling like snowflakes through the crimson storm.

  I felt my grip on my control slipping. My fingers started clawing at his back as he slammed into me.

  Oh my God. Am I going to…

  Again?

  Was that even possible?

  “Come, Noriko,” he demanded. “Do it now.”

  For once I obeyed without question. My body shuddered with pleasure, my nails digging into his skin. I heard him growl his own release and felt him pulse inside me.

  Our breaths were in time, our hearts beating at each other from where our chests met. We stared at each other, a slightly stunned look on his face, mirroring mine.

  He collapsed, rolling off me to the futon to lie beside me, just our shoulders and sides of our fingers touching. His beautiful chest, rising and falling, was shiny with perspiration, making his chest look all the more defined. I wanted to touch him, to run my fingers against the hair on his chest. I repressed the urge.

  “Well…” I said, my voice all croaky.

  “Well.”

  I cleared my throat. “It is always like that?”

  He looked over to me, a spark of surprise in his eyes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “No,” he said quietly, “it is not.”

  26

  ____________

  Noriko

  This moment—our gazes locked, the mixture of our sex in the air, the slight touch of our naked, sated bodies—it felt like it had gravity, something winding around between us like ribbons on a maypole.

  He tore his eyes away from me, rolling up to his feet. Instantly I felt the loss of his shoulder, of our pinkies kissing.

  I sat up, clutching the sheets over me. I didn’t know why I was suddenly self-conscious. He’d seen everything.

  Excuse me, had his tongue in everything.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, wincing internally. I didn’t mean to sound so…needy.

  “I’ll be right back.” Drake walked naked to the bathroom and returned with a damp hand towel. “Open your legs.”

  I sighed and lay back. “You managed to stop being bossy for all of two minutes. It must be a record.”

  He snorted. “You actually obeyed me without arguing. Twice. Looks like we’re both breaking records.”

  My cheeks heated as I realized what he was referring to. Come, Noriko. Do it now. And dear God, did I obey.

  He wiped between my legs, folding the towel over. I caught a glimpse of blood on the pristine white.

  It hit me. I had sex. I was no longer a virgin. The girl in me had died. This was what was left.

  He placed the towel in the laundry basket and gathered his clothes from the chair by my futon. I heard the click of the bathroom lock and the sink began to run.

  When he exited the bathroom, he was fully dressed. I was still sitting up on the mattress. He walked to my side and bent over, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Good night.”

  “Why aren’t you staying?” I asked, my voice high and tight.

  He frowned. “I have my own bedroom.”

  “I don’t like sleeping alone,” I admitted. Back home I slept between my sisters. Their warm limbs and soft snores wrapped me up with the feeling of belonging, of comfort. I wanted desperately to feel it again.

  “I like my bed,” he said.

  I started to climb out of my futon. “I can come with—”

  “No!” He cleared his throat. “I don’t sleep well with someone else next to me.” He didn’t meet my eyes. “Besides, I have an early start tomorrow. Good night.”

  He disappeared out my door, shutting it behind him, leaving me alone, with only a tender spot between my legs and a girlhood lost to remind me he had ever been here.

  I remained stunned for a moment, half expecting that he would come back, one leg out of bed, blankets pushed partly back, before it became clear that he wouldn’t.

  Did my husband like me? He wanted me, that much was clear, but did he like me?

  I thought we shared something tonight. Until I asked him to stay and his cold mask crashed down. There was something so broken inside this man, so shut off.

  Could he love me? My heart did a flip.

  Really, Noriko, you don’t care whether he could love you or not. One year, remember?

  I turned off the side light placed on a low table beside the futon and curled myself into a ball, pulling the covers over me. I tried to ignore the tiny sting of tears at my jaw.

  I missed my family, the ones who loved me. I missed them which such a fierceness, I thought I might shatter from the inside out. In the darkness of my foreign bedroom, this giant house loomed around me like the walls of a canyon. I lay deep in the bitter depths of it, feeling lost and very alone.

  27

  ____________

  Noriko

  The next morning when I woke, a dull soreness reminded me of the loss of my virginity. Now more than ever I needed to keep to my plan.

  I leapt out of bed, glancing at my bedroom door. I hurried over to my closet where I stashed the bag that I brought with me. I took out the secret contraceptive pills that I’d been reaching for every morning.

  I was sure Drake had the “unproductive wife” clause written into our contract to ensure he could get out of the marriage if it turned out that I couldn’t deliver him a son or daughter. It meant that I would get nothing further from him except for his initial upfront payment, the payment that had gone solely to my father’s experimental treatment.

  But this clause also meant that I could keep my promise to my father and return home after one year.

  I was doing the right thing. I belonged with my family.

  So why did guilt weave its way through me as I pushed the tiny pill out of its packet and placed it into my mouth, tasting the bitter sweetness of the coating before I swallowed it dry?

  My head was whirring as I replaced my secret into its hiding place and pulled on some clothes to go to breakfast alone as I did every morning since I arrived.

  I’d been taking the pill for weeks now. Why was I suddenly conflicted over it?

  My mind slipped images to me like stolen gems—Drake tugging me into his side as the limo drove through the protesters, Drake and the Monet painting, the way he moved inside me yesterday, touching such a deep part of me that I knew my soul would never be the same shape again.

  I knew why I was conflicted, why guilt crawled in my underbelly like blind worms. Because I’d seen a side to Drake that he rarely showed. He wasn’t a cold stranger, easily overlooked. He was a man of flesh and blood, with a bleeding heart and a bruised soul. I wanted nothing more than to unravel all his secrets so I could care for them all.

  Be careful, Noriko. Don’t get any closer to him. Don’t let him in any further.

  Don’t forget your promise to your father.

  I flung open my bedroom door, starting at the figure standing there. The very man who was taking up my thoughts was now taking up my vision, one hand poised to knock.

  Those guilt worms gave out a wriggle. Surprise swept my breath into my throat. Does he know? Could he hear my plotting?

  Don’t be ridiculous, Noriko, he can’t hear your thoughts.

  I forced a smile, clasping my hands in front of me as if it would be enough to shield me. “Drake,” I bowed, “Good morning. I thought you had gone to work already.”

  He looked
incredible in a light gray tailored suit that hung across his wide shoulders like armor, a stunning crimson silk tie knotted at his thick throat. He hadn’t shaved this morning, his jaw dark, stubble sharpening his strong jaw, making him look gruff and brutish. I got a flash of that beautiful face between my legs, felt the ghostly scrape of his facial hair along the insides of my thighs. A shiver ran through me.

  He lowered his hand. “I’m about to leave for work.”

  I waited for him to explain why he was here. Drake just looked at me with a slight crease between his brows.

  I chewed my lip. “I’m on my way to breakfast.” As if to punctuate my statement, my stomach let out another growl.

  “Right. Of course. You’re hungry. I won’t keep you.” He stepped aside to let me through.

  That was it? He didn’t have anything more to say? He showed up at my door to say…nothing?

  I stepped into the gap. At the same time, he stepped in again and we bumped together. “Oh,” I let out, as he grabbed my upper arm to steady me, “sorry, I—”

  He leaned in, his heated presence rolling around me like a blanket, causing me to cut off as I sucked in a breath. He brushed his lips against mine. They were oh-so soft and warm. For a second I couldn’t move. A heat bloomed in my chest. I reached for him, opening my mouth instinctively to turn this into a real kiss…

  He straightened, clearing his throat. My chest fluttered at the loss of him.

  For a second we stared at each other, my arm heating underneath his palm, a flush rising to my neck.

  Lean into him. Steal a kiss back off him.

  Don’t you dare, Noriko. Show no such affection. It’ll make it harder on you, on him, when you leave.

  As if he could sense the conflict inside me, he let go of me as if I burned him. “Well, then. Have a good day,” he said. He strode down the hallway, his long legs propelling him to the end before I could make myself move.

  What the hell was that?

  28

  ____________

  Drake

 

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