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“We can shower later,” I say as I wipe away at the little heart I drew. Cute. So not my usual exit. Right now, I just want her cleaned up and to hold her close.
“It’s messy,” she murmurs as she lifts onto her elbow to watch as I soothe the warm cloth over her sweet cunt.
“It’s perfect.” Mine. I wipe at the word, knowing I’m going to have to make her all of mine soon. There’s no other way. I’ve never considered having a wife. In my world, it’s too risky. Women are always the soft target, the easy way to get to someone when you’re not man enough to battle the beast behind her. The only way anybody is ever getting to this woman, is if I slip up and expose her as an easy target. I can’t afford to slip up.
I toss the facecloth on the floor as I climb onto the bed and pull her close. She snuggles onto my shoulder and eases a leg over mine. A fingertip trails over my stomach, does a little turn around my navel and then travels up the line of my dragon’s tail. She leans in to press a kiss somewhere, but I intercept her with one of my own. She cups my face as she leans up into this kiss, which is tender as her hand keeps on exploring. Her caress stops and she pulls away to look down at where her finger has hit the spot of dead scar tissue.
“Is this Alex?” she asks softly as she splays her hand over the body of the dragon, the one falling, escaping the talons of the other dragon.
“Yes,” I murmur, gathering her hair from her face as she circles his closed eye.
“And this is you?” she asks as she glides her hand over to the face of the other dragon. “You were with him when he died, and you couldn’t stop it from happening.”
Astute. I don’t say anything, but when she presses a kiss to the wounded warrior and then to his brother’s body as it falls into the abyss, I swallow.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my neck as she makes her way to my lips.
“It was a long time ago. Twelve years.”
“Sometimes that doesn’t seem long ago at all,” she says, her nose caressing mine.
“No.” I rake my fingers into her hair and bring her closer for another kiss. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, kitten. She kisses me back, as if we have all the time in the world. When she comes up for air, I hold her close. “Marry me,” I whisper against her lips.
“What?” Tasha pulls away slightly to meet my gaze.
I’m not asking. She doesn’t have a choice, but it might make it easier if she thinks she has one.
As if she can read my mind, she says, “For real?”
“For real, kitten. It’s the only way I can protect you.”
For a moment she just frowns at me, then she drops back to my arm and stares at the ceiling. Clearly not the marriage proposal she dreamed of since she was a little princess aged six or something. What do I know of a woman when it comes to this, in any case. Facts are facts. “You know too much, kitten,” I say as I pick a strand of her hair to play with. “You’ve seen too much. And you sort of partook in our shootout frenzy at Randazzo’s place.”
She would have killed a man if I hadn’t finished him off for her before he bled out.
For a long while it’s quiet between us, then she turns back into my embrace, a devious smile toying with the corners of her lips. “So… what would marriage to Matteo Scalera be like?” she asks, her fingertips back on my pecs, toying with my nipple.
“There will be bodyguards…” I start, then clasp her hand to still it. This is a very serious conversation and to get a hard-on now would derail this plan I’ve set in motion.
“I’m used to that,” she says. “And?”
“There will be events that you need to attend as my wife…”
“In pretty dresses.”
“Only in pretty dresses.” I plant a kiss on her head. “You’ll be allowed to sass me once a day and I won’t mind,” I tease, glad that we’re moving away from Alex and everything that happened twelve years ago.
“And what would happen if I sass you more than once a day?” she jokes back, her hand traveling south.
“We’ll see. It depends on the degree of sass.”
“I didn’t know sass had degrees.”
“Oh yes, it does.” I roll onto my side and her head moves onto the pillow as I still her with a hand on her hipbone, my hand big enough to let my thumb stroke the side of her breast. “You’ll live with me.” That is non-negotiable. Obviously.
“In that apartment?”
She doesn’t hide from me, her face open, and in her eyes I see every panic and horror she lived that night we made Greg Martinez pay for his sins, the other thing she witnessed that binds her irrevocably to me. “We can find something… cozier.”
