Page 42 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

Bryce

The cake is delicious, but of course Akiko is an excellent baker. She could make a fortune with a bakery, but has zero interest in running a business.

Fiona’s reaction to the cake was a little shocking. Although… I think back to the belated birthday dinner I gave her while we were dating at Harvard. She didn’t cry, but she blinked a lot, and her eyes glistened quite a bit. So maybe she was holding back tears at that time, too…?

It’s almost as if her family never celebrated her birthday, but how could that be? Or did Aaron get extra nasty with her on those occasions? It wouldn’t surprise me a bit—he’s always been a complete asshole.

The way her eyes looked sad even as she smiled and said the Huxleys were her family, too…

It made my heart clench, and I don’t like it .

Her impact on my emotions is growing each day, while I’m nowhere near accomplishing my goal of getting her out of my system.

Objectively speaking, I’m actually farther away from the target.

Still, damn it, I can’t stay unmoved when she sheds tears like that. Not sure why, because when women cry, I usually just look away and pretend I’m not there. Otherwise, I feel like I’m getting a brain tumor.

But now, in the car, Fiona is beautiful with her cheeks glowing, her eyes bright. When we finally arrive back at our place, she sighs. “Thank you. Your family’s wonderful.”

Her brilliant smile hits me like a wrecking ball. I can’t speak, so I do the next best thing—once we go inside, I pull out a box from the small gift bag hidden in a kitchen cabinet. I was going to give it to her before we left, but got distracted when she mentioned meeting Harvey.

She blinks, then flushes. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s your birthday.” I push the box toward her.

She opens the lid, then gasps, her jaw going slack. It’s all I can do to suppress an urge to kiss her. “Oh wow …”

“It’s…” I shrug. “Whatever.”

Her eyes fly to my face. “ Whatever ?”

I shrug again to hide the urge to squirm under her incredulous gaze.

I take the diamond choker off the dark velvet and place it around her neck.

My fingertips brush her smooth skin, and heat uncurls in my gut.

She smells amazing this close, all warm and sweet.

A soft, rosy color spreads over her neck and chest. I follow the diffusion with the back of my index finger.

A quick inhale, and the delicate veins in her throat work.

I start to lower my head to place a kiss on her neck, but she turns around to stare up at me, running her fingertips over the facets of the impeccably cut gems. The cool stones glitter as brilliantly as stars.

The setting holding the large center rock in place has my initial on it, like a collar staking my claim.

A sudden possessive urge overwhelms me as I look into her soft green-gold eyes. The pulse on her throat throbs visibly, and she swallows.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I drop my eyes to her pillowy pink lips. “Thank me with a kiss,” I murmur.

Her eyes linger on my mouth briefly before they rise to meet my gaze. Her eyebrows pull together as she hesitates. My heart pounds with anticipation. She’s going to kiss me .

She lowers her hand from the stones to the dress and starts to unbutton.

The outfit slides down her body and pools around her feet.

Reaching back, she unhooks her bra and lets it fall as well.

At the sight of her beautiful, soft body, fire burns in my belly, even as bitter disappointment drips into my veins like acid.

She unbuckles my pants, bringing them down my legs along with my underwear. Her hand wraps around my thick shaft, which pulses visibly inside the tight hold.

“I don’t have to thank you with a kiss,” she says, pumping my dick in her fist.

“I want your mouth on me.” Kiss me, damn you .

Something dark and unreadable flicks across her stubborn face. “Well then.” She drops to her knees, then looks up at me, her eyes challenging. My choker glitters around her throat.

The sight is erotic as hell. Every drop of blood in my veins heats and flows to my cock. It aches so much that I let out a low hiss. At the same time, part of me is vaguely dissatisfied.

Her hot breath caresses the tip, the feathery sensation sizzling along my nerves. She strokes me up and down in smooth motions, brushing her thumb across the top of my cockhead, smearing the precum.

Sorceress. She’s trying to bewitch me, and I couldn’t stop her even if the world was burning. Her tongue flicks out and licks the clear fluid from my slit. White-hot pleasure streaks along my spine. Her mouth curves into a wicked grin, but I want her lips to smile like that while they’re on mine.

She pulls the tip into her mouth. Fuck . My eyes roll back at how wet and hot her mouth feels around my dick. She hollows her cheeks to create a delicious suction that leaves me panting with the need for more and starts to bob her head.

Somewhere in the back of my mind is a voice that screams she’s manipulating me to deny me what I want.

My heart pumps with raw desire and frustration.

Her eyes are on me, eager and gauging my reaction.

She changes pressure and tempo to maximize my pleasure.

If I hadn’t asked her for a kiss—hadn’t craved it—I’d be enjoying myself. But I can’t.

It’s impossible to decide if what I want from her right now is just another satisfying orgasm or a kiss on the mouth—an indirect admission that she likes me, even if it’s just a little.

I can’t explain why I’m so obsessed with her kissing me, why I’m so angry and disappointed that she won’t do it when she’s already sucking me off so beautifully.

I pull out, gently cradle her cheeks and tilt her face up. “Kiss me, Fiona.”

Indecision flashes in her green gaze, but then she shakes her head.

“Kiss me,” I order her, my voice firmer.

“No.” She grips my hips and pulls me back into her mouth.

I tighten my jaw, reveling at how good she feels and hating her for making me beg. Fine . I’ll give her what she she’s asking for.

I loop her long hair around my fist, holding her head still.

She raises a questioning eyebrow. Instead of answering, I move my pelvis, thrusting in and out, showing her that her mouth has no use except for mouth fucking for my pleasure only, just like she insisted.

She doesn’t resist, even though I’m so deep that the head of my cock is bumping against the back of her throat.

She merely looks up at me, eyes watery but still stubborn, as her breathing grows rougher.

Air saws in and out of my lungs. An orgasm is fast approaching, crawling along my spine.

I tense. A small voice in the back of my head says I should stop, but the part that feels rejected and unwanted doesn’t want to.

Maybe I want to punish her, or maybe I want to punish myself—even when I get to come inside her mouth, my heart feels hollow.

When the climax comes, I let it go and spill into her throat. She manages to swallow most of it, but toward the end, she chokes a little.

“Swallow it all,” I command.

She tries, but some drips from the corner of her mouth and falls on the choker.

I hook my index finger between the diamonds and her neck and pull her up.

She rises steadily to her feet. I rub the pad of my thumb at the edge of her mouth, spreading the cum.

Seeing my mark on her soothes my nerves, but only a little.

“Kiss me.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Why not? Is your kiss that precious?”

“I already told you, I can’t.”

The anger finally erupts. “You kissed me plenty of times!”

She turns her head away.

Grabbing her chin, I turn her head back to face me. “Don’t look away when I’m talking to you.”

“That was different. I’ve changed, and so have you . We aren’t the same anymore,” she says, her voice breaking slightly.

What I hear is, I have no feelings for you, not like before . My heart aches unbearably. I steel myself, keeping my tone hard. “Do you honestly believe that nonsense?”

“Don’t you?” She wraps her hand around my wrist and lowers it from her chin.

“Bryce, we already agreed on what this relationship would be. Even when we do things that blur the baseline rules, the fundamentals don’t change.

This ends in two years, and I don’t want to make things more complicated by crossing the lines. Let’s keep our boundaries, okay?”

“Don’t you think that, if you’re going to thank me, you should thank me the way I want?”

“I think pretty much any man would agree that what just happened is worth more than a kiss. Don’t you?”

“You don’t know what I value.” If she did, she wouldn’t have gutted me like that when we were in college.

College sweetheart . How innocuous it sounds, yet how fatal.

My eyes drop to her mouth, then to her breasts, noting the pointed tips and the flush on her chest. “Looks like you enjoyed sucking me off.”

I push my hand into her panties, stroking my middle finger along the folds from her clit all the way to the opening of her pussy. She’s scorching hot and wet. When I push my finger inside, her eyelids flutter shut, and she bites back a moan.

“Let me hear you. If you aren’t going to use your mouth to kiss me, use it to moan like the slut that you are.”

I slowly pump my fingers in and out of her, stoking her fire without giving her enough to bring her to orgasm. She grips my arms, digging her fingers in, clinging. She rocks her hips to increase the pressure and tempo, but I retreat.

She lets out a frustrated sound. “This isn’t going to make me kiss you. ”

“I don’t give a damn anymore,” I say, resuming my actions, pushing two fingers inside while the pad of my thumb gently teases her pulsing clit.

“Bryce,” she begs. “Now you’re being cruel.”