Sinners at the Altar (Page 129)

“Have I been doing it wrong all this time?” Jace asked.

Her eyes flew open, and she lifted her head to look at him standing between her legs—still buried inside her. Still restrained. “Of course not!” she said. “Why would you even think that?”

He shrugged and averted his gaze. It was never her intention to hurt him on the inside, no matter how much pain she inflicted on his flesh. She forced her weary body to sit up and wrapped her arms around him. She thought carefully about the words she wanted to say, because she’d made him vulnerable. She knew from past experience how hard it was for him to allow her to see that vulnerability.

“I shouldn’t have used you like that,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He relaxed into her. His still-rigid cock slid deeper. “Don’t be sorry. I just… when you get me all worked up like that, I always want to fuck your brains out until I explode. I never even considered that what you needed was something entirely different.”

“I like it when you fuck my brains out,” she assured him. “I just…” She wasn’t sure how to explain it to him without making herself vulnerable. Because even though she trusted him enough to allow him to see that vulnerability in her, she sure as hell didn’t like to feel that way. “Being your wife,” she said. “Certain expectations.” Hell, she was really blundering this. How could she explain without hurting him?

“You don’t want to be my wife?”

She smacked his ass none-too-playfully. “Never think that again, much less say it.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

She laughed, the movement allowing her to feel exactly how deep her lover was buried within her.

“I know it’s stupid, but to me, the word wife just rubs me the wrong way. Like in the traditional ceremony when the vows are sealed with man and wife. Why not husband and woman?”

“This day and age, they do say husband and wife,” he said.

“Yeah, but why not wife and husband? Wife always comes second.”

“Aggie, I think you’re overreacting. Nothing is meant by it.”

“So why is the woman expected to take the man’s name? Why didn’t you offer to take my last name?”

“I thought you wanted to hyphenate your name.”

“I do,” she said. “But you didn’t hyphenate yours.”

“So you associate the word wife with a submissive role.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You realize that’s a strange thing to think when you have your soon-to-be husband tied to the bedposts, don’t you?”

She chuckled. “I know you understand our dynamic, but others? Others expect me to fall into a certain role as your wife.”

He snorted. “Since when do you give a fuck about doing what others expect of you?”

“Since never.”

“So where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know. I promised myself that I’d never get married. Never give myself to a man.”

“So you think you’ll regret marrying me?”

“No. No, Jace! I won’t regret it. I just want to feel like I’m still in control of my life.”

“You know I won’t stand in your way. I’ll support you no matter what. You know that.”

She snuggled against him. “I know. It’s me who’s struggling with this. You’re perfect.”

He chuckled against her hair. “Hardly.”

“You are,” she whispered. “I love you so much, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

And maybe that was what was really bothering her. They were so meshed at this point in their relationship that she wasn’t solely her own person anymore. Part of her identity would always be known as Jace’s woman. His wife. Ugh, that word.

“Release me, Aggie,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“I could tell you, but you know I’m not good with words. Let me show you.”

Curious about what he could possibly want to show her—and more than a little excited about the prospect—she reached for the cuff on his left wrist. She couldn’t quite reach it and keep him buried inside her, so she scooted back, surprised by how rock hard he still was as his cock popped free of her body.

He closed his eyes and groaned. “It will be a true test of my restraint not to fuck you hard and fast as soon as I’m free.”

She grinned, thinking she wouldn’t mind it so much, but she didn’t let him know that. She liked it when he struggled for control. They both had a certain obsession with being in control at all times—self-control and, in her case, control of others. It was why their relationship was always challenging and exciting. The kind of relationship they both needed to be satisfied.

The buckle on his cuff came free and he rotated his shoulder to get full mobility in his arm as she worked on unfastening his other cuff. Once both of his arms were free, she looked at him in anticipation. He didn’t jump her bones as she’d expected, he simply stared at her as he stretched his arms over his head, drawing her attention to his well-muscled chest, cut abs, and that huge fucking cock of his. She was more than ready for him to pound her with it.

“Come here, wife,” he said, still standing alongside the bed. He opened his arms wide and beckoned her closer with flicks of his wrists.

She didn’t move, just lifted an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear when I said I don’t like that word.”