Aidan forgot to breathe.
Mary’s beautiful brown eyes were sparkling beneath a sheen of moisture. Had any woman ever looked at him with so much love?
“Yes, Aidan Harrison,” she said softly. “I will marry you.”
Aidan slipped the ring on her finger before she had a chance to change her mind. Then he sucked in a much-needed gulp of air and gathered her in his arms. His lips sought hers, sealing the promise with a kiss.
“I am going to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, Mary.”
She grinned against his mouth. “Yeah? Then how about starting right now.”
Just that quickly, a familiar heat raced through his body. No woman had ever had such power over his inner beast. His cock grew hard and heavy as her fingers made quick work of his shirt. The feel of her hands on his bare skin made him hiss with pleasure.
“Bedroom,” he managed, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt.
“No,” she countered breathlessly, pushing against his chest. “Here. Now.”
He growled, the Dominant in him rebelling against her sudden bid for control. “The floor is too hard for you.”
“I don’t intend to be on the floor,” she said with a wicked smile. Her freshly-manicured nails scraped down his chest until she reached the fastening of his slacks. Every cell in his body screamed for her.
Aidan warred with his inner beast. Flip her over. Assert our dominance.
She’s still healing, and we don’t want to hurt her.
Unaware of his inner dialogue, Mary freed him and began to stroke and lick hungrily. Both voices fell silent as the sensations crashed over him like a tidal wave. His hands fisted in her silky hair, holding her in place.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he said thickly.
Hungry, lustful eyes locked onto his. “You are,” she told him. “You are giving me exactly what I need.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, she lowered her head and began working him again. Surprisingly, his beast blinked.
It might not be so bad, letting her have her way, just this once.
Well, it is what she wants.
We can try it. For her.
For her, he agreed.
*
Mary couldn’t believe Aidan wasn’t fighting her. For whatever reason, he was allowing her to take control. Being the practical, reasonable woman that she was, she chose not to question it. Who knew when she would get this chance again?
She took full advantage, exploring him with her hands and her mouth, taking time to savor his smooth, tawny skin and the rhythmic tensing of his fingers against her scalp, back and shoulders, encouraging her as she worked her way around him. His soft growls and moans of pleasure were like music to her ears, filling her with a new sense of heady power.
Only when he began to shake did she realize how much it was costing him to hold back and give her this gift.
Releasing him, she stood and shucked off her jeans in record time. Fire blazed in his eyes as she lowered herself down, impaling herself upon him with a throaty sigh of pleasure.
“Aidan,” she whispered, her hands splayed across his chest. “Is this okay?”
His hands gripped her about the hips as he began to thrust slowly from beneath. “Perfect.”
Mary kept her eyes locked on his face, committing to visual memory every subtle nuance of those beautiful features in the throes of passion. They moved together seamlessly, a perfect dance of give and take. The pleasure continued to build, but the apex was elusive.
“Aidan,” she pleaded. “Please.”
Thankfully, he understood. He lifted her slightly, then sat up and reseated her upon him. She gasped as the new position pushed him even deeper. His arms surrounded her; using his hands and hips, he moved her with him. Mary’s head fell back as Aidan’s lowered and he nipped lightly at her neck.
It was exactly what she needed. Soon she was back on the edge, ready to dive off the precipice.
“I love you, Mary,” he breathed as he gave one final thrust and buried himself deep.
“I love you, too, Aidan,” she cried, squeezing him tight as overwhelming bliss crashed over her.
Chapter Twenty
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Aidan asked one last time as they waited in the judge’s chambers.
“Absolutely,” Mary assured him. He looked so handsome in his black Brooks Brothers suit, the single white bud rose pinned to his lapel, borrowed from the small bouquet she carried. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of leather, old books, and lemon oil. Most women probably didn’t dream of getting married at the county courthouse, but the dark wood paneling and quiet solitude of the plush office was exactly what she wanted.