Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
"By the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Mick doesn't wait. He pulls me in, his hands cupping my face with a possessive intensity that leaves me breathless. The kiss is a deep claim that marks the beginning of our life together. He pulls back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine.
"Mrs. McLinden," he murmurs against my lips. The name sends a jolt through me, a sharp, beautiful realization of what we’ve just done. He says it like it’s a title he’s been waiting to bestow since the moment we met. "Finally. Mine."
"Yours," I agree, my voice trembling. "Always."
We walk out of the chapel into the blinding Nevada sun. Mick stops by a fountain, looking down at our joined hands. The gold bands catch the light, identical and permanent. He looks like he’s just won the Stanley Cup, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph that he doesn't try to hide.
"Hungry?" he asks, though his eyes are focused on my mouth. "Or should we head back to the suite?"
"The suite," I say, not even pretending to care about lunch. "I want to get out of these shoes. And this dress."
He flags down a taxi, his arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his side. The ride back to the hotel is a blur of neon signs and heavy traffic. We don't speak, but the air between us is thick with a new kind of happiness.
Our suite is on the top floor, a sprawling expanse of marble and glass that overlooks the city. Mick shuts the door behind us and the silence is immediate, a stark contrast to the bells and whistles of the casino floor below. He doesn't let me walk three steps before he’s lifting me into his arms.
"Mick!" I squeal, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You don’t have to carry me everywhere."
"It’s my job now," he places a soft kiss on my lips, carrying me across the plush carpet toward the massive bed. "Taking care of you is the most important job I’ve ever had."
He sets me down on the edge of the mattress, but he doesn't pull away. He stays between my knees, his hands sliding up my thighs, gathering the silk of my dress. His touch is familiar, but everything feels different now. The stakes have shifted. The boundaries are gone.
"I’ve been dreaming about this moment since we met," he admits, his voice low as he works the zipper of my dress. "Giving you my name and making you mine forever."
I lean back on my elbows, watching him. "I’ve been yours since the first moment we met."
"I love you," he says. He pulls the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. He follows it with his own clothes, his movements urgent but controlled. When he joins me on the bed, the weight of him is a relief, a grounding force that shuts out the rest of the world.
He kisses me like I'm the air he needs to breathe, pinning my wrists to the mattress, and every molecule in my body turns to goo.
He grins against my mouth, all wolf and sin, dragging the sound right out of me like it’s the only thing he wants for dinner. "You have no idea what you do to me," he mutters, and his voice is so low my toes actually curl.
I reach between us and wrap my hand around his hard cock, “Actually, I do.” I smirk up at him.
“God, I love you,” he breathes against my lips then his mouth trails down my neck, and I arch into him like I’m addicted to his touch. His tongue is hot, wet, hungry, working the sensitive spot just below my jaw until I’m trembling.
He palms my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, and oh my God, I almost come from the light touch alone.
"Mick," I gasp, and it comes out a hell of a lot more desperate than I meant. Sue me.
He just flashes that wicked smile. "Yeah, Mrs. McLinden?"
I freaking love hearing those words.
He kisses my stomach, slow, wet, open-mouthed and so thorough. There’s a pause, dragging out the suspense, and I think I might actually explode if he doesn’t get on with it. But then his hands grip my hips and he pulls me right to the edge of the mattress.
Every cell in my body is tuned to this moment. He drops to the side of the bed and kneels between my thighs. His big hands bracket my hips, and he lifts my leg over his shoulder. My pulse jackhammers away as he leans over.
The first touch of his tongue against the lace covering my wet center is a jolt straight up my spine. I buck, and he just pins me harder. Then he freaking slowly explores me like he’s got all night.