Honour-Bound Groom / Cinderella & the CEO: Honour-Bound Groom

Would her touch be as soft as the fabric that caressed his skin, he wondered. No, it would be softer, he was certain. His body coiled tight in anticipation of what lay ahead.

Before he realized it, he was at the door to her rooms, his hand twisting the handle and thrusting open the door. Candles had been lit in here, too. The large pedestal bed, swathed in cream-and-gold draperies, stood invitingly empty.

Empty?

A sound drew his attention as his bride came from her bathroom. Her satin nightgown skimmed her slender form enticingly, cascading over her gentle curves much as his hands now itched to, also. A small frown puckered her brow as she worked a brush through her hair.

“Here, let me,” Alex said as she crossed the room. He took the brush from her fingers. “Sit down on the bed.”

Loren did as he requested and Alex stood a little behind her and forced himself to focus on her hair and only her hair as he reached to stroke the brush through her tresses, easing out the knots and occasional forgotten hairpin.

“Ah.” She sighed. “That feels wonderful.”

Liquid fire pooled in his groin at her words. He planned to make her feel so much more wonderful very soon. Now that the brush flowed more smoothly through her hair he allowed himself to focus on the deliciously smooth, bare shoulders she presented to him.

Palest pink straps of satin were all that held her nightgown up. Straps that with the slightest breath could slide down those shoulders and farther, down her slender arms, exposing her back. He’d never found the prospect of observing a woman’s back so enticing before. But then again, with Loren everything was different. Everything felt new.

He couldn’t help himself, he had to taste her. He gathered her hair in one fist and gently drew it away from the nape of her neck then bent to kiss her, allowing his tongue to stroke across her skin in a private caress.

He felt her response ripple down her spine. Smiling to himself, he kissed her again—this time sucking gently—and was rewarded with the soft sound of her gasp. Alex let the hairbrush drop to the floor and placed both his hands upon her shoulders, coaxing her upright to turn and face him.

Her face, clean of the makeup she’d worn today, appeared flushed in the candlelight—her eyes luminous, their pupils dilated so far they almost appeared to consume the dark velvet brown of her irises. Her lips were moist and remained slightly parted. His gaze dropped to her breasts, to the clearly delineated pinpoints of her nipples as they thrust against the satin with her each and every rapid breath.

Something knotted tight and low in Alex’s belly. Something possessive. Something wild. Every instinct within him roared that he plunder her lips, that he drag the delicate fabric of her nightgown from her body and expose her to him, allowing him to feast on her feminine glory. To rush her to dizzying heights she had no experience of.

To mark her as his own.

She is inexperienced, he reminded himself sternly, forcing himself to hold back, to slow down.

He let his hands skim across her shoulders and gently cup the back of her neck, tilting her head to him. He lowered his face, his eyes locked upon hers. His entire body rigid with the need to take this as gently as humanly possible.

His lips were only millimeters from hers. Already he could feel her breath against him, smell the sweetness of her breath.

“Alex, wait!”

Through the cloud of passion that controlled him he heard the plea in her voice. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a shuddering breath, constraining his desire.

“You are frightened. I’m rushing you. Do not worry, Loren. I will make tonight one you will never forget.”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, pulling out of his arms, creating a short distance between them.

Already his body cried out for her. Craving her slender frame against his, aching for her warmth to envelop him.

“Then what is it?” he asked, fighting back the edge of frustration that threatened to spill over into his voice. He didn’t want to frighten her more with his hunger.

“It’s about us. Our marriage.”

“Us?”

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