Page 435 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

A month later

Gio

"Let me help." I reach for my husband’s cuff and toggle the cufflink until it snaps into place, then I tug on the sleeve. "You look so handsome." I step back and survey his features. "Very handsome."

His lips quirk, then widen into a smile which reaches his eyes.

That icy-blue expanse of his eyes melts until they’re a rich cobalt.

Flickers of silver amongst them lend a glacial warmth, which should seem contradictory but is reassuring, for he reserves that look only for me.

The complex layers of his personality are reflected in his gaze that touches on my features.

His possession is mirrored in how he wraps his arm about my waist and draws me close.

His love is in the jut of his chin, the leanness of his waist, the gradient of his shoulders that are firm under my fingertips.

I dig them into his shirt, knowing under the fabric on his skin, he wears my markings.

How much more primal, more satisfying can it be to know he holds me in his cells?

My touch forever recorded on the canvas of his sinews, the tapestry of his flesh, the fibers of his very being locking in my imprints.

"You’re the part of me I didn’t know was missing. The breath I need to live. The speed on my skates, the bounce on my puck, the edge to my face-off, the luck in my hat-trick, the power in my play, the—"

"Stop." I clap my hand on his lips. "I don’t know if I should be flattered with all the hockey romanticisms or overwhelmed by your word-play?"

"Neither." His smile fades away, and his sincerity shines in his eyes.

"I’m telling the truth." He frames my face with his big palm in that gentle, yet erotic way only Rick can.

"Which is that you are—my truth. You are my every hope, my every reason, my every second, you are my time, my energy, my space, the space between the spaces which are filled with so much color because you are in my life. "

Tears prick my eyes.

"No, don’t cry." He rubs his thumb under my cheek. "I never want to see you in any discomfort."

I mentioned my ongoing struggle with bulimia to Rick.

He wasn’t surprised. He said he’d suspected it when we were staying with the rest of the team in London.

I seemed to lose weight despite eating all of my meals.

He felt it was healthy that I’d been the one to raise it with him.

He persuaded me to see a counselor. I agreed, and I've already begun my sessions.

Truth is, since Rick came back into my life, I’m more settled about food.

That phase I went through in L.A. where I kept throwing up after eating has eased.

I no longer force myself to puke after eating.

It must be because I love sharing a meal with Rick.

Also, I’m so secure in his love, I no longer pay attention to my weight.

His every glance, every touch, tells me I’m perfect.

I see the love in his eyes, feel it in how his gaze follows me around in a room.

He settles something inside of me. He makes me content, so I don’t feel like I’m fighting myself. I feel...in sync with myself.

"These are tears of happiness." I sniffle. "I didn’t think I could be this at peace. This content. When I'm with you, I'm not running, not searching, not seeking. When I’m with you, I’m not looking outside anymore, for everything I need is right here in front of me. It’s in you"—I place my hand over his heart—"and I see you even more clearly.

I was always attracted to you, but now I see your faults, and—"

"And?" he asks, a note of caution in his voice.

"And I want you even more. I love you even more. I need you so much that when you’re not with me, the loss of you is a physical ache that I can’t bear.

I used to think this kind of love could only be found in romance novels, but now, I know better.

I used to think that having five orgasms in one night was something only book boyfriends could provide—"

"But?" His lips curl in a satisfied smile.

"But… I know my real-life, marriage-of-convenience husband turned love-of-my-life can do one better." It’s true! His speed on the ice is matched only by his speed between the sheets. His thrust on the rink is overshadowed by the force with which he takes me every single time. The heat we generate could easily melt a sheet of ice. The glacier around his heart had no chance. A-n-d this is what happens when you’re in love with an ex-marine who is first and foremost a hockey guy at heart; your metaphors get influenced by the game.

"I’ll take that as a compliment…and a challenge." His smile grows wicked. "I’ll have to do one better next time."

I pale. "What? No. As it is, one night with you and I can feel you inside me for the next few days."

"Only days?" His expression grows resolute. "Gonna have to up the ante to seven."

"Seven orgasms?" A bead of sweat runs down my spine. "Five’s good. Honest."

"Eight then?" His smirk grows broader.

My pussy clenches, the still sensitive bud of my clit spasming in recollection.

Last night, on the way here on his private jet, he wouldn’t stop.

He rubbed the most intimate parts of me, then hooked his fingers inside me, and demanded I come over and over again.

And I did. Not that I had a choice. Moisture drips down my thighs, and my toes curl.

"No, please, I won’t be able to."

"Nine," he drawls.

"Stop, Rick. I can’t."

"You can, and I’m not gonna stop until we hit a flawless finish, a perfect ten. That’s a good, round number, don’t you think?"

"This isn't the Olympics, Rick," I chide him.

"Isn't it?" He winks.

Those fires under the surface of my skin, that are never too far away when he’s around, instantly ignite. "I think you’re going to wear me out."

"I’ll be doing all the work. All you have to do is give in and enjoy. Surrender to my ministrations, allow me to position your body any way I want, let me touch you all over, and kiss you, and show you how much I love you. And then…"

"Then?" I whimper.

"Come when I command."

"Jesus." I press closer to him. "Who’d have thought the Stone had a penchant for poetic declarations of love, as well as for talking dirty?"

"It’s your influence. Only with you, can I let go and show who I truly am."

"Same." I throw my arms around him and hug him. "I love you."

"I love you, Goldie." He tucks my chin under his head.

“We have much to thank your sister for,” I murmur.

He stills. “We do?”

“It’s because of Diana that we met.”

He draws in a sharp breath. For a few seconds he stays silent, then I sense him nod.

“You’re right. It’s thanks to Diana I found you, the love of my life.

Maybe I was led to you, not so I could seek vengeance, but so I could find happiness.

So I could release the guilt I’ve carried around for so long.

It’s as if, in bringing you into my life, my sister was providing me with the gift of hope.

So I wouldn't focus on the misery of losing her. I think she, too, is letting go. Now that I finally opened up my eyes.” I hear him swallow. “I think she’s finally at peace.”

I tighten my arms about his waist. “I know she is.”

We stay wrapped in each other arms, enjoying the stillness, that calm when neither of us is compelled to speak aloud, yet our bodies and our souls commune in harmony.

He rubs his cheek against the top of my head. “Do we have to go out?” His voice rumbles up his chest. “Maybe they’ll wait. Maybe we could—"

"You guys, everyone is waiting. What are you up to? Oh—" Mira’s voice breaks off. "Umm, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt."

"You’re not." I lean back in my husband’s arms. We gaze at each other with that secret smile we’ve reserved only for each other.

"Ohh, you guys,"—Mira’s voice wobbles—"you’re so in love."

"Are you crying?" I finally turn, my husband tucking me into his side and walking forward with me.

"It’s just…" She fans herself. "It’s so beautiful to see the two of you together. You’re so into each other that my heart hurts. The way you look at each other. It’s clear you love… No, more than love… You are each other."

"Aww, thank you, Mira. That’s a beautiful thing to say."

"I know, I’m a romantic, but to see a love story come together in front of my eyes re-confirms it for me.”

She sniffles, and I find a tear sliding down my cheek. "You’re making me cry."

"Oh no, no, no, you don’t want to mess up your face, not before your wedding."

I laugh. "To be fair, we’ve already had one wedding ceremony.

" This one will be in front of our friends, in the new bookshop I renovated and opened in London.

Somehow, my husband read my mind and knew how much I'd love to get married in a bookshop.

So, he insisted we plan this. Plus, it's a chance to get all our friends together and have a party.

Besides, the chance to look into his eyes and repeat our vows, this time, knowing it's for real and that he loves me? I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

"But this one is going to be special," I say softly.

"Very special."

I look up to find Rick looking at me with what I can only describe as a love-light shining in his eyes. I know the same is reflected back from me.

With the right man, no words are needed. Nor gestures. Nor grand gestures. Don't get me wrong. Those things don't hurt. But all you really need is a look, a very special look you know he reserves for you.

The air crackles between us, that sizzle of electricity running up my spine. My entire body is flush with anticipation, with the need for him, a throbbing zing in my veins, and—

Mira clears her throat. "Umm, everyone is waiting… But if you need a little more time—"

Rick shakes his head. "We're ready."

Rick

"I’m not ready." Edward tightens his fingers around his glass of water. Then, as if he’s unable to stop himself, he tosses the contents into his mouth and swallows.