I make my weary way upstairs to our new master suite to find Damon already showered and dressed, or shall I say undressed, for bed. He’s lying across our mammoth bed in nothing but those yummy little trunk underwear. They hug and hold tight to every delicious curve of his…assets. The bulge of his considerable girth is evident even when he’s relaxed. The elastic fabric clings and cups him so perfectly that my fingers feel a little itchy. It’s a hell of a sight that has my mouth watering for the salty velvet taste of him on my tongue.
I pause at the door and take a moment to breathe in the sight of him. He’s watching me watch him and the air between us grows heady and thick all at once.
“Get over here. I need to be inside my future wife,” he orders in a composed voice, ripe with the guarantee of pleasure.
Without saying a word, I stroll across the space between us. Damon sits upright and swings his legs off the side of the bed, inviting me to stand between his bare, beefy thighs. I do as he silently ordered. His hands envelope each of mine at my sides and drift slowly up my naked arms, coming to a halt at my neck. His fingers curl around the nape of my neck as the other hand cups my jaw. I’m pulled closer to him, our faces only millimeters apart. His heavy eyes slide shut. It’s clear that my Big Man is doing what he does so frequently. He’s savoring this. He’s savoring me. He’s taking his sweet time because more often than not, that’s just how he prefers it. My lips are achingly close to his. As many times as I’ve felt the fullness of his mouth covering mine, it never gets old. I edge my head forward, hoping that my wanton lips can coax his perfect mouth into giving me what I long for. The grip he has on the nape of my neck tightens fractionally, keeping me in place. It keeps me deprived of what I want and only works to cultivate my appetite for all of him. Just as he wants me. Damon is a calculated man. He has a purpose and a plan for everything he does. Even in the bedroom. His hand on my neck is a subtle way to control and direct me. I happily accept his control over my body.
“You have to get this wedding planned,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait to make you my wife.”
Purchase the rest of the series
Wreck Me (#1)
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Restore Me (#2)
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USA Today Best Selling Author,J.L. Mac is twenty-seven years old and currently resides in El Paso, Texas, where she enjoys living near her family. She was born and raised in Galveston, Texas. J.L. admittedly has had a long and sordid love affair with the written word and has loved every minute of it. She drinks too many glasses of wine on occasion, and says way too many swear words to be considered “lady-like.” J.L. spends her free time reading, writing, and playing with her children.
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