Page 112 of Pick Six

His eyes narrow and then he grins. “It wouldn’t fucking matter because you’re going to be too busy fucking me every chance we get that day.”

“Oh yeah?” I tease him with the tip of my tongue again, and a tortured groan escapes him, making his eyes darken.

“Speaking of, use the other hand.”

I frown. “I’m not as good.”

“Don’t care. I want to see that ring on your finger when your hand’s wrapped around me.”

I switch as he asks, doing my best to keep the same pace and his fingers slide into my hair. His thumb strokes the side of my jaw, and he looks at me with a sort of reverence that makes my heart skip beats in my chest. Makes me wonder how I ever got this man to be mine.

“So gorgeous like this, Saint. The way you look and feel. Can’t believe how fucking lucky I am.”

His words spur me on, and I pick up my rhythm and take him deeper as I do. Having him like this is one of my favorite things in the world, watching him lose control under my touch, listening to the way he breathes and talks to me.

“Fucking hell. Your mouth is so good, but I need inside you. It’s been too long. Get up here,” he groans, his eyes opening again, and I stand, stripping out of the shorts I’d put on and take a step toward him.

“Shirt too, I want to see all of you—all of my wife.”

“Fiancée,” I correct him.

“Wife as far as I’m concerned. That paper’s just fine print. You got the ring on.You’re mine.”

I smile and shake my head at him, pulling the shirt off and tossing it on the bed.

“You don’t think so?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Whatever you say, Xander,” I taunt him because it’s a name I only use when I want to get under his skin. Needle him a little until his temper rises just enough that he wants to fuck me hard to prove a point.

He grabs me then, pulling me toward him, then down onto the bed under him in one quick motion that has me grinning because I’m getting exactly what I want.

He shakes his head at me, his mouth on my throat and his hand between my legs a second later testing me. Just the graze of his fingertips against my clit has me letting out a soft moan.

“Already that fucking ready for me?”

“Been thinking about it for hours. Days really,” I admit.

He kisses his way down my chest, to the center of my breastbone and then cups one of my breasts and slides his tongue over the tip of my nipple until I arch up for him.

“Don’t tease me. I can’t take it.” I sigh as he runs his thumb over my other nipple.

“Wife,” he says it like a command.

“Fine.Wife,” I repeat it, trying to appease him because I just desperately want him inside me. If we’re being honest, he’s as good at playing me as I am him.

His hand slides down between my thighs again, his fingertips dancing over my skin with the lightest touch imaginable and when I try to move my hips to get more friction, he pins my thigh with his knee.

“Like you mean it.”

“I’m your wife. The paper is fine print.” I give in as he gives me more of the pressure I need.

“Should have always been.” He slides a finger inside me and all the little touches that are just short of what I need are driving me crazy.

“Yes. You should have always been mine. Now you are, and I need you. So much, please Alex.” I look up at him, and he’s watching me closely, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips while he studies me.

“I love you,” he says it like it’s a confession. Like he always does when he gets like this. I know what he means. All the words he doesn’t say about the past and about our future.

“I love you too.” I reach over and run my fingers down his forearm. “But I really, really need you to fuck me. Put me out of all this misery.” I grin and he returns it in kind.