Page 5 of Dangerous Encore

My cock pulses. Pleasure spreads out to my fingersandtoes.

Once I've spilled every drop, I collapse nexttoher.

We're both a sweaty,stickymess.

But she still nestles intomybody.

She still falls asleep inmyarms.

* * *

In the morning,we shower together. We stay in the tiny space until we're prunes. I can't get enough of her body against mine. Of her groans. Of her nails on my skin, my hands in her hair, my teeth onherneck.

I can't get enough of her.Period.

Reality is right outside the door. There are only two days until our wedding, and the thought of a single one of her relatives watching me walk down the aisle, thatwhy isn't she marrying a nice, stable guylook on their faces makes my stomach tie up inknots.

I know I want to be with Violet forever. I knew that when I marked my bodyforher.

Usually, I'm good with anaudience…

But not thataudience.

It'sterrifying.

I want mythoughtsgone.

I want the world making sense, the way it does when it's just our bodiesaligned.

I make Violet come until she's begging metostop.

We get out of the shower and wrap ourselves in towels. Violet goes to get dressed. I fix scrambled eggs with avocado, coffee for me, a matcha latteforher.

She steps out of our bedroom in a tight black dress and patterned black tights. She's already all made up, her hair in that perfectstraightline.

"Your mom coming today?"Iask.

"Not until our hair and makeup run through. She has work." Her eyes fix on me. "Can I convince you to adopt this wardrobepermanently?"

"You know how topersuademe."

She makes a show of checking out my bare torso as I bring our breakfast to thetable.

Her lips curl into a smile as her eyes meet mine. She wraps her hand around my wrist and pulls me into a soft,slowkiss.

"How many times have I said 'I really missed you,' now?"sheasks.

"I missed you too." I slide into the seat across from hers. There aren't enough words to explain how much I missed Violet, how much I always miss Violet whenI'maway.

Her eyes go to the table. She traces the outline of her mug with her pointerfinger.

She's thinkingsomething.

Something she doesn't wanttosay.

She stares at her drink. Then at her twisting amethyst anddiamondring.

Slowly, she meets my gaze. "Are you as nervous asIam?"