The Billioniare's Bought Bride (Contemporary Romance) by Michele Dunaway Page B

going?
    “The fire could use some tending,” he said, the excuse obvious and lame. But Maddy knew the truth. The fire was fine. He was ending the intimacy by hopping out of bed.
    “Oh.” Her one word said it all, and she shifted uncomfortably to prop herself up on her elbow.
    “Get some rest, Maddy. Sleep well.”
    But rest wasn’t easy to come by as that gloriously honed body bent and tended the fire. Her body still hummed, and fumed, from being so quickly aroused and then so similarly rejected. “So that’s chemistry,” she said bitterly.
    He added another log to the fire. “Don’t be trite.”
    “Trite?” She resisted the urge to scream her frustration. “I’m not a ping-pong ball. You can’t just toy with me, work me up and prove how masterful you are. You might be able to flip your desire on and off like a light switch, but I don’t have that luxury or experience.” She scathed the last words.
    He returned to the bed and ran a smooth finger over her cheek before crawling under the covers. “You’re not a toy; you’re my wife. You made your wishes about sex clear. Not without love. So I stopped. Now get some rest. We leave for Chicago in the morning.”
    He rolled over and turned off the lamp, sending the room into semi-darkness, the only light from the glowing fire.
    Maddy sat there, appalled at how he turned the tables and used her own words against her. But perhaps it was wise that he’d stopped. She’d wanted Dylan’s kiss. She’d wanted him to make love to her, to take her virginity and make her a woman. She’d wanted it that sixteenth summer; she’d wanted it tonight. For a moment she’d wanted to make their marriage real.
    But this wasn’t a real marriage. She had to be honest. While chemistry meant she could make love to Dylan, she couldn’t make love to Dylan just because her body would be pleasured and satiated. She wasn’t that type of girl. She never had been.
    She should be grateful that he’d stopped before he’d done more than just kiss her. She’d crossed the line.
    But she wasn’t grateful. The old Dylan had to be buried deep inside her husband, somewhere. Maybe if she had made love to him, maybe she could have shaken his conscience. That aside, his rejection had stung. She wouldn’t have stopped, yet he had. For a moment she felt undesirable. The man drove her crazy. Push. Pull. Hot. Cold. On. Off.
    “Go to sleep,” he said suddenly.
    “I was,” she lied.
    “Of course you were,” he said.
    She couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m not going to beg.”
    He rolled over and faced her. “All you have to do is ask. Just say the words. Are they that hard?”
    His hand found her breast. Her breath caught in her throat. “Just one word Maddy.” His fingers pebbled her nipple through the fabric. “Do you want me to make love to you? Can you handle it? No guilt? No second thoughts?”
    She needed his mouth. Needed the pressure between her legs assuaged. The word burst forth. “Yes!”
    “About time.” Dylan pulled his hand free, ripped at her nightgown and circled her nipple with his mouth. The sensitive skin between her thighs moistened and grew heavy. She wanted to explode. He kissed her neck and then somehow the nightgown was gone. He pressed on the fabric of her panties, and then simply yanked and they too ripped away.
    Her mind lost focus as Dylan’s teeth nibbled and his mouth devoured. Her body went wild.
    “That’s right, let go,” he whispered as he moved his kisses to her other breast. Firm fingers began stoking the fire between her legs, rubbing her wetness in circles and making her buck. Then he moved his face between her legs. Her inner thigh clenched as he placed a wet kiss on the skin there, and then he simply placed his whole mouth over her center and kissed her, his tongue flicking out to tease her nub.
    As her climax began, Maddy turned her head to the left. She could think of nothing but what Dylan was doing, and the massive release he’d