Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(99)
“Every day?”
“Yes, everyday, and it’s not what you’re thinking, but I’m good with that too.”
I was thinking what he thought I was thinking. I was thinking about wrapping my lips around his cock and the way my big protective, dominant man trembled as I worked my tongue over his velvety tip and ran my hands up and down his hard shaft, but… every day?
“Every day,” he said, pulling me from my own erotic scene, one I could enjoy since we were in the starring roles. “I’m going to hold you to your promise. Your only job is to stay safe.” He reached down and covered my stomach. “To keep you both safe.”
I nodded. “Yes, Nox.”
“Are you sure Dr. Beck said it’s all right to…? I mean, I don’t want to hurt…”
Reaching up, I cupped his cheeks and pulled his lips back to mine. “We already have, multiple times. Remember, I’m six weeks. That means I’ve been pregnant since…”
His grin grew. “I think it was the night you wore that red dress.”
“You do? What makes you think that was the night?”
“Because it was perfect—the garter belt, the lack of panties…” He wiggled his brow. “Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
The imaginary blow job I’d been thinking about faded away as memories of that night came back to mind. Instead of Nox between my lips, I recalled the lasagna and bread, the chicken and vegetables…
I sighed. “Oh, the food at that restaurant was so good. We need to go back…”
“Is that how this is going to be?” he asked with a grin. “I’m imagining you in fuck-me heels, a black garter belt, and sexy stockings with your tits and pussy at my disposal, and you’re thinking about food?”
No… and yes.
My core twisted at the memories of not only the sex, but also the prelude. It had been perfect. The sexual tension that he’d built had had me ready to combust. Then again, the food was awesome.
“Well,” I said, “I am eating for two now.”
He reached to my breast and rolled one of my nipples into a hard nub. Even without his ministration, the other nipple followed suit. It was as his scruffy chin abraded my sensitive skin and kisses peppered my neck that all thoughts of Italian delicacies slipped away. Well, all but him.
“Oh.”
“That’s it, princess.” His skillful hands moved lower, his fingers splaying over my stomach. “I’m going to dominate your body and mind until the only thoughts in that beautiful head are about me and the ecstasy of me inside you. I’m going to make you hungrier for what I can give than what Antonio can.”
I giggled. “He makes really great lasagna.”
He pointed to his chest. “No more food talk. Me. Mind on me.”
“Yes, Nox.”
It wasn’t difficult to follow his instructions. Lennox Demetri was a man on a mission. As he did as he promised, dominating my body and mind, my legs parted, heels planted against the soft sheets, and back arched. His touch was the music that rocked my world. I was his instrument. Together our song filled the air. My whimpers were the high notes while his growls created the bass.
The flurry of the last few weeks disappeared as we sang, not with our voices but with our bodies. They moved in sync, coming perfectly together. Apart we were half—unwhole. Together we were one—complete.
As I drifted off to sleep my mind lingered in the almost-dream world. It was there I heard the word marriage, the word that used to scare me, but no longer did. It wasn’t a proposal—maybe it hadn’t been audible. I wasn’t sure if it came from Nox or from my heart. All I knew with complete certainty as I surrendered to slumber was that I was loved and adored by a man with whom I would willingly spend the rest of my life, the man whose baby was inside of me.
WE WERE FINALLY nearing the meeting I’d been dreading. It hadn’t occurred in a day or even a week. Time had ticked away. Life had moved on, and so had death.
Christmas was near. The houses in Brooklyn Heights were decorated with colorful lights and lush greenery. Wreaths hung on doors, while trees sparkled in windows.
Adelaide was doing better by the day. She still experienced tenderness in her ribs and occasional migraines, but most notably her mind was clear. Five weeks clean. She said it was an everyday battle. Nevertheless, she was winning.
The shine in her blue eyes and the color in her cheeks was what brought a smile to my face.
The case against Suzanna Spencer had built and held steadfast. She was being held without bail. Alton Fitzgerald’s funeral had happened and was done. Much to my chagrin, Adelaide went back to Savannah to oversee the arrangements. As she explained, news of her divorce wasn’t news at all. The papers were never filed with the court. She was a widow. More than that, she wanted to quell the rumors of her illness.
With Silvia’s help, Adelaide had even managed to gain some weight. The therapists who still visited daily were pleased, as were the doctors. Her decision to attend the funeral was her declaration to those who’d wished her harm. She wanted all of Savannah to know that Adelaide Montague was alive and well.
While in Savannah, she’d taken advantage of the current uncertainty of Montague Corporation and as the majority stockholder called an emergency meeting of the board of directors. She spoke honestly, asking them to remain steadfast during this time of upheaval. While the courts were working out the details, she assured them that Montague Corporation was her priority. She didn’t want to make any major personnel changes for the time being, relying upon the knowledge of those who’d helped foster its latest success. The only change she stressed was the need to move all legal matters to a new law firm: Preston, Madden, and Owen.