Indebted Epilogue
Page 8

His eyes shot bronze. “Are you sure? You don’t have to take my name. You can keep Weaver if you want—”
“What I want is to belong to you. I want the world to know it. I want the ghosts who battled together for so long to hear it. I want us to become one.” Taking his hand, I yanked him beside me. “Try again, only this time, use the right name.”
Pressing my shoulders, he slowly guided me onto my back. His breath skated over my mouth as he lowered himself beside me. “I’m going to love you until my heart stops beating and then beyond…Mrs. Hawk.”
I shivered. “I’m glad. Because I had the exact same plan, Mr. Hawk.”
He grinned, bowing his head to kiss me.
My heart raced as his tongue slipped past my lips, seducing me with slow licks. His fingers slinked into my hair, pulling free pins and clips, letting the black strands cascade into a mess on the sheets. Once every decoration and slide was free, he massaged my scalp, dislodging a few remaining petals from the rice and flower confetti.
“As much as I love you in this dress, I think it’s time it disappeared, don’t you?”
I nodded.
Jethro was mine in every possible way. He would continue to need me. I would continue to need him. We were no longer on our own but a partnership, lovers…a family.
The stress of the wedding left my bloodstream, relaxing my shoulders into the springy bed.
His hands slipped behind me, rolling me onto my stomach as he set to the task of undoing fifty-two pearl buttons down my back.
The panels of lace decorated my skin, revealing the muscles of my spine and risqué glimpses beneath. I didn’t think I’d have time to sew something so delicate, but it’d been cathartic for me to sketch and create something so stunningly simple but intricately beautiful.
Goosebumps erupted as Jethro’s knuckles brushed my skin, slowly releasing me from the gown. Half-way down my back, he swallowed a groan. “Goddammit, I want to rip this off you. This is taking far too long.”
I laughed into the sheets. “You rip it and I’ll make you fix it. Patience is a virtue, husband.”
His touch halted. “What did you call me?”
I looked over my shoulder. “Husband.” Loving the way his eyes hooded, I breathed, “That’s what you are now. Husband. My husband.”
His mouth parted, dangerous darkness stealing over him. “Say it again.”
I didn’t care my dress was only half undone, I rolled onto my back, slipping beneath his inert hands. “Husband.”
His gaze dropped to the front corset of my gown. “That word makes me hard.”
The spaghetti straps slid off my shoulders, tickling my skin. “How hard?”
“So fucking hard.”
“Show me.”
He gulped. “Show you?”
I nodded, reaching for his tented slacks. “I want to see.”
Darting out of my grip, he climbed off the bed, a slow burn building in his gaze. “Why do you want to see?”
Coyness slipped into my blood. He wanted to play? I could play.
Sitting up on my knees, I struggled against the imprisoning nature of the silk layers and licked my lips. “Because it’s mine and I want to see what my marriage has bought me.”
His hands fisted. “Bought you?”
“Uh huh.” The conversation turned anchor-heavy with want, sinking through the yacht to the seabed below. I’d never been so needy, so ready for sex. I wanted him desperately, but at the same time, I loved the anticipation, the building joy that we could touch whenever we wanted but chose a little self-denial.
Jethro’s hands flew to his belt. Never taking his eyes off me, he unbuckled the clasp, slipping the black leather from the loops. “If you get to see me, I want something in return.”
“Oh?” My knickers grew shamefully wet. “What’s that?”
Taking a step back, he crooked his finger. “Get off the bed.”
Without a word, I obeyed.
My bare toes hit the soft carpet. My high heels had fallen off as Jethro carried me down the gangway to our room after leaving the party.
“Take your dress off.” Jethro’s left hand looped his belt tight around his fist while his right one disappeared into his black boxer-briefs.
The train of my dress resembled a wake of lace, the undone buttons giving me enough room to slink out of it and let the combined corset and overlay slip to the floor.
I stood before him in the sheer teddy I’d had Jasmine order for me online. She’d hidden it for me so it would be a surprise on our wedding night.
Tonight.
We’re married.
The words sporadically kept popping into my head like toys on Christmas morning.
I’m a wife.
I have a husband.
There was nothing more erotic than that. Nothing more tantalising or desirous.
Grabbing his cock, Jethro swallowed hard. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
The intensity in his eyes stripped me bare. I struggled to keep my hands by my side and not pluck at the garter belt attached to the unsubstantial G-string or run my prickling palms over the silky pantyhose.
I let Jethro drink me in because I had every intention of doing the same.
My eyes were selfish. My body greedy. My soul hungry.
“I want to bite every inch of you. I want to rip off your lingerie and take you hard. I want to bury you in my arms and never let you fucking go.”
Jethro’s voice mimicked a tidal wave on sand, velvet and soothing but rough and wild.