Page 38

Chapter 38

Juliette

We shifted into a more comfortable position—well, for me, at least—with my ass on his lap and my legs wrapped around him. Maybe less comfortable for him since his erection hadn’t received the memo that he’d decided to abstain until marriage along with me.

We did agree to that, right?

While I was aware we were at his parents’ penthouse in the sky and we’d left Colin to fend for himself with his potentially overbearing and overprotective new family members, I couldn’t bring myself to get up and leave this room.

Seventeen years of waiting for this man, and now that our secrets were out of the way, my vow was the only thing separating us.

Sure, that was a pretty big and, but there we were with me on his lap anyway, and his bulge was as prominent as my panties were wet.

“What are we doing?” I’d meant that as a thought, but now it was a question that’d officially passed between us.

“Well,” he said while threading his fingers into my hair, “from where I’m sitting, I believe what we’re doing is torturing ourselves.”

Like an involuntary muscle spasm, I shifted forward to create friction between us. “And testing our patience?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said through barely parted lips, his hands going still in my hair. “You could say you’re a pro at testing mine.”

I lifted my hips and made a circular motion, and he immediately took hold of my arms as if preparing to tame a wild mustang to keep me in place. All those years of celibacy and now sitting on top of the reason for that decision himself could make a girl a little wild. Who’d blame me?

“We just talked about this.” He was trying to remind himself of all the reasons to behave, while I did the opposite—reciting all the whys we should say screw it and make love. Not tonight, of course, but preferably a night (or morning) soon.

“I know.” I closed my eyes, unable to stare into his and not crave him all the more. “In my defense, your arousal wasn’t pressed up against me during that conversation the way it is now.”

“And whose fault is that?” The delicious bass of his voice teased my eyes back open and onto him. “Your ass, where is it?” He lifted a brow. “Didn’t we establish on Friday that I’m incapable of not being hard if you’re on my lap, regardless of what we’re talking about?”

I remembered that moment in my bedroom. It felt like last year, not just this past Friday. “Well, are you asking me to get up?”

He brought his hands down to my hips and buried his fingertips into my sides. “No, I enjoy pain. This kind, at least.” He brought his face closer to mine. “But can you handle it?”

The ache between my legs was so intense that maybe I couldn’t. The flush of heat spreading through my body, dampening my panties, was as amazing as it was frustrating. I knew there’d be no relief—not tonight, not down the hall from his family, and certainly not after my confession.

“How far do you allow yourself to go without breaking your vow?” That question rekindled the hope of relief to come.

But I also didn’t want to remind him anyone else had ever set a hand on me because I knew what he’d like to do to those hands. All of two men had done some light “petting” before I shut them down, but still, something told me that was two more than acceptable to him.

“No penetration of any kind.” What a clinical answer. Geez. No wonder it was so easy to stay single over the years.

I bucked my hips forward on reflex, and he pinned my ass back down on his hard length.

His nostrils flared. His eyes were intense and sharp on mine. Emotions charged and thrumming between us. “It should have only been my hands on you. Only you touching me.”

I sighed, and the fluttery feeling in my chest magnified as happiness and hope bottled up inside, now ready to explode outward. I wanted to stay in this moment. Pretend danger and evil weren’t threatening us. Even if for only a little longer. Because soon, I knew we’d have to wear our suits of armor again, parents playing defense to the world’s problems, protecting our son.

“No looking back,” I reminded him. “Only looking forward.”

We may have moved fast, but as my brother pointed out yesterday, that was our MO seventeen years ago. Why would now be any different?

“What can I do for you that doesn’t involve breaking the oath you made?”

I had a feeling he correctly assumed I’d signed an invisible contract with God, committing to abstain, and he had no plans on upsetting Him.

The poor guy had been through so much. The last thing I wanted was for him to add any more guilt to his plate when I was desperate to help him understand that his plate was clean.

Keeping that in mind, I knew I had to behave myself, even if lust and desire called out to me.

“Juliette?” His voice was firm but patient, reminding me he was awaiting an answer.

“Touch me without touching my bare skin. I want you to feel and see me, though. Help relieve my tension.” I tried to hang on to my sanity as I tacked on, “Please.”

He had me off him in seconds and on the bed in two more, removing my shoes before devouring me with his eyes. I rested back on the bed that looked like it belonged in a high-end boutique hotel, with its lavish duvet and pretty tufted-velvet gold headboard.

“Unzip your jeans and slide them to your thighs for me.”

Quickly heeding his command, he zeroed in on the red satin triangle between my legs. I arched my back off the bed in anticipation of the next order.

“Shirt up to your neck. I want to see more of you.” His voice was luxury, silk, and sex.

I did as he asked, revealing my unlined red lace bra, knowing he’d easily be able to see the swell of my flesh and my nipples poking through.

“Hands over your head.” His eyes journeyed over my body, and I squirmed as I did what he told me. Was this really happening here in his parents’ house after our perfect day had gone extremely sideways?

The moment he joined me on the bed, kneeling beside me, still in his jeans and black tee, confirmed it was.

His arm muscles tightened as he shifted to all fours and climbed on top of me. He brought his face over mine and kissed me passionately, just as intensely as before, while also somehow gentler and softer at the same time.

I did my best to keep my hands up as he’d instructed and not claw at his back like I craved to do.

A moan passed between us, and I wasn’t sure if it was his or mine, but it became one mingled breath of ecstasy.

He dragged his lips to my cheek, jaw, and neck. I tightened my legs together as that ache of need built. He looked up at me, his lips now hovering over my breast. “What am I allowed to do with my mouth?”

“Use it, please. On top of my bra and panties is definitely okay.” I’d never given anyone else that permission, but this man wasn’t just anyone else.

He closed his eyes as a wave of uncertainty visibly crossed his face. This man was beyond good. He was hedging into saint territory.

“I need this,” I bit out, hoping to cut through his concerns.

His dark lashes fluttered open, and heat and desire blazed between us.

He leaned in, and the flat part of his tongue ran across my nipple pressing against the fabric. A deep hiss rattled free from his lungs as I cried under my breath, that one slight touch moving mountains when it came to pleasure.

“Again.” My hands clenched over my head. I was on the verge of breaking skin, my fingernails carved deep in my palms as he gave my other breast the same attention he had the first.

When his lips returned to my mouth, he kissed me hard. And by kiss, I meant fuck my mouth. ( No, I rarely said that word. Yes, this was a very qualifying time to use it. )

After destroying me in the best possible way with that kiss, he lowered himself down my body, keeping his mouth an inch away from my skin, allowing his hot breath to trail down, down, and finally there .

“Your panties are soaked.” He nuzzled his nose against the satin. “You smell like sex.” A groan vibrated against me. “So, so good.”

With his tongue, he traced my seam over my panties the way he’d done to my nipples, and I abruptly jerked upright to rest on my forearms.

He never let his tongue press deep, keeping his touch light, which was almost painfully unbearable. I wanted him to do everything he wasn’t supposed to and then some.

My skin tingled, and my flesh became a grid of goose bumps as he alternated between teasing me with his breath, tongue, and his thumb over the bundle of nerves hidden beneath the thin, wet fabric.

Every muscle in my body tensed as I neared the verge of an orgasm. “I’m going to come.”

He swapped his tongue for his palm and let me ride it out against the heel of his hand, creating extra friction. My face was probably scrunched up, and I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was scream and cry out a string of yeses , but I did my best to clamp down on my back teeth and quietly let myself go.

I collapsed back on the bed, crashing hard. “Oh. My. God.”

He stood off to the side and bent forward to kiss me. While he hadn’t touched my skin with his mouth, he still tasted of sex. Maybe we’d loopholed our way around my vow a little, but it was worth every incredible moment.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” A wolfish grin crossed his lips. “Better under my dad’s roof than your father’s, I suppose.” He shoved his hand down the front of his jeans, closing one eye as he fixed what had to be an incredibly painful problem there.

“I promise I’ll behave from now on.” I sat upright, pulling my jeans back up while letting my shirt fall into place. “I don’t want you feeling guilty, which is probably the only thing that will keep me honest.” I pointed to his crotch. “How are you going out there like that? Want me to?—”

“Stroke my cock?” he finished for me, using different words than I would have. “Absolutely not.” He reached into his pocket for his phone.

“You don’t even want to get yourself off?” Standing now, I zipped and buttoned my jeans, then ran my fingers through my hair, working to tame the mess it had to be.

He looked up from his phone at me. “If it’s not with you, I don’t want it.”

That’s sweet.

“Let me return the favor, then.” I reached for his crotch, and his dick jumped, but he secured a firm but gentle grip around my wrist and removed my hand.

He closed his eyes, and the strong Italian man before me, well . . . was he blushing? Was his tan skin turning a shade reddish?

“I sort of already came.”

What? I looked down between us at the dark wash denim. I couldn't tell if there was any type of stain there.

“Yeah, I’m forty-three and got off without you even touching me. And I’m embarrassed and not the least surprised it happened because the things you do to me are never ordinary and always extraordinary.”

Are you rambling? It was adorable. This guy probably didn’t do cute, but I loved seeing this side of him that doubtfully few ever did.

“And yes, my dick is still hard. The reason being you.” He tossed his phone on the bed and held my arms. “I’ll never get tired of you. I’ll never not want you. I’ll take any part of you that you’ll give me. I’ll beg for scraps at your feet.” He squinted like I was the sun in his eyes. “You make me crazy. Insane.” He leaned in and placed his mouth before mine. “So much so that I was just scrolling through my phone to see if I know anyone who could marry us this week because I’m going to lose my fuc?—”

I pressed up on my toes, cutting him off with a kiss. I hooked my arm around the back of his neck, and before I knew it, we were back on the bed.

He deftly navigated me to being on top, so he didn’t crush me with his weight. Always considerate, even in the heat of the moment.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m going to wait as long as I have to,” he said between close-mouthed kisses, “but it’s gonna be a hell of a?—”

“Mom? Dad? You in there?” our son called from the other side of the door. And thank God Constantine had thought to lock the door. “Not hooking up, are ya?”

Constantine rested his forehead against mine, suppressing a grumble. Or a laugh? Likely a mix of both since I had the same reaction.

“Mommm?”

“One second.” He left us no choice but to untangle ourselves and leave the comfort and temporary haven of the bed.

“Grandpa wants to apologize, but I said I had to check with you first to see if you were decent. The last time I interrupted, you were on Dad’s lap, and he had no shirt on.”

Close enough. But wait. I slapped a hand to my mouth as heat flew into my cheeks. “Please, please tell me you’re not serious.”

“Kidding, kidding. But you’re beet red now, aren’t ya?”

Coliiiinnnn. I uncovered my mouth to wave my hand at Constantine and his silly grin of amusement.

“I like the kid, I can’t help it,” he said so earnestly my heart was about to explode.

“Go easy on Grandpa, okay? He’s so sorry he’s planning to buy me an apology F150 for being mean to Dad in front of us. I can only imagine what he’ll buy you and Dad.”

“He’s doing what ?” His words sent Constantine to the door, snatching his hat from the floor on his way. He opened up and casually held his hat in front of his crotch as if he weren’t using it as coverage for what happened in here.

Colin raised a questioning brow, his gaze flicking to the hat and back up again. The kid didn’t miss a thing. “He’s not buying me a car, relax.”

I stood alongside Constantine, hoping Colin didn’t know what had happened here.

“Not a car ?” Constantine shook his head, catching on. “No truck , SUV, four-wheeler, motorcycle, or any moving vehicle, either.” He was a fast learner regarding how our son thought and operated.

“Come on, if he wants to get me a truck, why not?”

“Because your mother and I will be the ones to get you your first vehicle, that’s why. We’ll decide together.”’

And I thought his dirty talk was sexy, but his parenting was next level at turning my insides mushy, especially when he referred to us as a team. A unit. A family. The way it was always meant to be. Ugh, there goes my heart again.

“Fine.” Colin shrugged it off, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “He really does want to talk to you both, though. And your sister heard something about those guys we killed, too.”

“ You didn’t kill anyone, and you never will. And we’ll be right out.” Constantine politely dismissed him, then shut the door and faced me, returning his hat to his head.

“Are you okay?”

“My father enjoys overstepping.” His hands went to his hips.

“I noticed.” I gave him a partial smile, then held on to as much of his tight bicep as I could manage.

“I never had a chance to thank you for what you said to him. You distracted me with that mouth of yours and . . .” He lowered his gaze between us as if remembering where his hand and mouth had just been. “It takes courage to stand up to him.”

“Well”—I smiled, resting my other hand on his chest—“it makes it easier to be a lioness when you’ve got a king standing behind you.”