Page 67 of The Marriage Mistake

“Babe, you’re confused.” He pulled his fingers out of me. Slowly, watching every minute shift in my expression, he brought his hand to my mouth. As he pushed his fingers between my lips, he said, “I want you to understand something, Ember. This? Right here?” He pressed his fingers down on my tongue, and I could taste myself on them. “This is what you’ve done to me every day since you sat down across from me in my grandmother’s parlor. Made me crazy for you. Made me want you so bad I wake up in the middle of the night to jerk off to the thought of your lips wrapped around my cock. Made me think of fucking—growing old with you. So no, that’s not what I tell any other woman. There is no other woman. Not since the moment you walked in wearing one of those godforsaken skirts and shoved that fucking contract across the table. No one but you. Got it?”

With my mouth stuffed with his fingers, I could only nod.

His expression was feral. Triumphant. “Good. Now suck.”

My body was one pillar of heat and tension. Nothing existed other than the feel of his body pressing against my front, his fingers in my mouth, and the weight of his stare as I licked and sucked the way he demanded. With his other hand, Jack reached between my legs and pressed against my clit, over the layers of leggings and underwear that covered me.

I didn’t expect the orgasm. Didn’t see it coming. How could I, when it was so different from anything I’d experienced before? It was the heat of his hand between my legs, the fingers in my mouth. The way he dipped his head to kiss my neck. It was the abrasion of his stubble. The scrape of his teeth against my clavicle.

Mostly, it was the look in his eyes when he pulled back to watch me. Like everything was finally right. Like I was precious, and I was his.

I cried out, vision going white, legs losing all ability to function. Jack held me against the cabinets, touching and biting and squeezing and stroking and⁠—

“So fucking pretty when you come, Ember,” he rasped. “Again. Give me another one. I want to hear that noise again.”

“I can’t just—” I gasped. Sank my fingernails into his shoulders. He shoved my leggings down around my thighs, turned me over, and pushed me down over the counter. Then he stroked me until I cried out his name while he groaned in satisfaction.

Never—never had I felt that before. I hadn’t even known it could be so good.

Shivers coursed through me, and my forehead fell against the countertop. My body twitched as breaths gasped out of me. I whimpered, and Jack gentled his touch. He murmured praise that warmed me to my marrow. He told me how beautiful I was and how good I felt. It barely made sense. I was too out of it to care. One of his hands stayed between my legs while the other slid up my back. He gathered my hair in his fist and turned my head to the side as soft kisses landed on my bare shoulder, my neck, my earlobe, my jaw.

My breath hitched.

Jack lined himself up behind me, still clothed, still hard. His cock pressed against my ass, the denim rough against my tender flesh. His fingers circled my opening, dipped inside again.

I’d given up all pretense of resisting him. I’d lost the battle. I’d lost myself.

He leaned over me, one hand in my hair, the other stroking me. “Did I make myself clear enough?”

I whimpered. I wanted him so badly.

“No one but you,” he repeated, then lifted me off the counter, gathered me in his arms, and kissed me.

JACK

Ember’s eyes were dazed with pleasure. I lifted her leggings as I kissed her, fitting them back over her hips and smoothing the waistband. I couldn’t get enough of touching her. I trembled with the need to take her to bed, but I didn’t want to rush. She was so used to being pushed aside that I worried she would retreat. She’d been made to believe she was a burden.

I would teach her the truth. She needed to be treasured. Worshipped. Adored.

By me.

“I need to go to work,” I told her, holding her close. She sighed, resting her head on my chest as I stroked her back. “Eat your breakfast and get some rest.”

“So bossy,” she grumbled.

I hummed. “You need taking care of.”

When she pulled back to look at me, there was something in her eyes I’d never seen before. Something wounded and hopeful. I stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead, and she sighed into my touch.

That would keep me going until the end of the day. I picked up her top and helped her put it on, kissed her one last time, then finished getting ready for work and headed out.

SEVENTEEN

EMBER

After some breakfast and a few hours of work, I was beat. I took a long nap and woke up groggy to the sound of my phone ringing.

It was Jack. “Did I wake you up?”