Unchained (58 page)

The acknowledgment brought on a powerful surge of protective energy. She was his wife. His mate. The other half people write about. As long as he lived, Alex would honor her trust and loving submission with all the love, respect, and commitment he had inside him.

His Irish goddess was more precious to him than life.

When he was ready, he took one final look and committed the vision she made to memory. His enchanting and self-possessed wife on her knees, an air of serenity surrounding her as she waited on the pleasure of her master.

He approached and gently laid his hand on her head, acknowledging her submission, and then moved to cup her chin. “Meghan.”

Her gaze slowly rose to his. Despite the outward calm, he saw the turmoil in her green eyes. And a plea. She was completely in his hands. The power Alex wielded was staggering.

Holding his hand out, she put hers into his firm grip and eased off her feet, allowing him to pull her off the floor slowly. Without saying a word, Alex kept hold of her hand and guided them to the side of the bed.

She walked calmly at his side with him acutely aware of her bare feet and brightly painted toes. As far as Irish Fuck Goddesses went, she was an original. With curves for miles, she was voluptuous and sexy as hell. It was astonishing that something as simple as bare feet only managed to up her desirability quotient.

Taking her over to their bed was a subtle head fuck. Meghan would expect him to make love to her, and normally, he would. But something was going on with her that demanded a different approach. Until he knew what was making her so unhappy or had a better feel for whatever the fuck was messing with her, he was going to stick with his gut.

Moving behind her, he gathered his wife’s incredibly long mane of soft curls and moved all of it over one shoulder. After gently kissing her exposed neck, he started to unzip the dress. As he bared each inch of skin to his gaze, he saw her skin prickling with goose bumps.

Awareness?

Excitement?

Probably both.

When the zipper was all the way down, he pushed the open sides off her shoulders and helped slide her arms through the white cotton until it hung on her hips. Seeing the way she shimmied her ass when he continued shoving the dress off her body did nothing to cool the firestorm raging in his dick.

Alex gathered the discarded dress and draped it over the foot of the bed. When he returned to her, he couldn’t help but admire the provocative lingerie she wore with such assurance.

White, like the dress, but in no way virginal or coy, the sheer lace on the bra was so delicate and transparent that her spectacular tits were on full display right down to the pink nipples he knew were tasty and highly responsive to his touch.

The matching white panties were just as sheer. The thatch of visible Irish auburn added even more fuel to his raging libido. So enthralled was he with eyeing up his wife’s lusty assets that Alex almost missed her chewing on a lip. Whatever had her in its grip was stronger and more powerful than he’d first thought.

He knew just what to do. She needed a disconnect cue. No fucking problem.

Subjecting her to a thorough and somewhat cocky once-over, Alex took his time with the visual inspection, moving slowly until he circled around behind her once again. His eyes drifted down until he saw it through the decadently sheer panties.

The Marquez crest tattooed on her magnificent ass.

Without hesitating, he crouched behind her and whisked the panties down her legs. That tattoo now bared to his inspection, he leaned in, breathed deeply, and then licked the griffin entwined in vines ~ the symbol of his ultimate possession.

“Mine,” he growled against her fleshy ass. A bold caress later, she shuddered from head to toe.

Disconnect in progress.

H
EARING THE RAW
possessiveness in her Major’s muttered declaration after using his devilish lips on the skin of her butt was almost Meghan’s undoing.

‘Mine.’

What else mattered except that? She wanted to weep. Nothing else except her beloved should be anywhere near her thoughts right now, but dammit, Finn and the broadside he’d unloaded kept creeping into her consciousness.

Alex’s possessive exploration of her bottom sparked a wild tremor. Suddenly, the messy emotional torrent her brother dumped in her lap melted into the air. A part of Meghan that responded only to this man took over, and she let go of everything else except this moment.

This was her husband. Of the billion souls on the planet, Alex Marquez was the man she chose. And in so choosing, she surrendered her will to his care. He would help her through the crisis building in her heart.

His big, sturdy hands deftly managed the mechanics of unhooking her bra. Pushing the straps off her shoulders, she shivered when his lips nibbled lightly on her neck.

As the last of the delicate lingerie was disposed of, she stood completely still knowing he was looking at her naked body. Meghan’s skin bloomed with goose bumps as Alex’s powerful gaze swept over her.

She could just about hear him breathing. The temptation to turn around and search his face was hard to fight, but she held fast, and after a minute, a whisper of calm invaded her senses.

A deep inhale brought every sense into line as she relaxed and embraced a familiar feeling. Surrender. Nothing else existed except this moment and the two of them. Her shoulders lost their stiffness. Lifting her chin on another deep inhale, Meghan let her eyes drift shut.

A whoosh of air followed by cool silk caressing her nakedness brought her eyes open. He was dressing her in the turquoise robe. A frisson of surprise reminded her that she wasn’t dealing with an ordinary man. Instead of quieting her mind with some passionate lovemaking, he was asserting his dominance over her in a different way.

She couldn’t love him more than she did right then.

The soft silk felt lovely against her bare skin. Alex lifted her mane of hair out of the collar and smoothed it down her back. Stepping in front of her at last, he closed the flimsy garment and belted the sash around her waist as she waited patiently. She watched him closely as he worked, noting his formidable jaw covered in manly stubble, and the way his brows bumped close when he concentrated.

When he was finished, he reached for her hand and silently guided her away from the bed. She followed obediently, wondering what he had in store. His behavior so far was one hundred percent Major. Every bit of tension inside her melted at the thought. The serious way he took care of her had a way of turning Meghan to a puddle of adoring goo.

Next thing she knew, he’d led her to their side-by-side easy chairs and sat her down. The balcony doors were open to the waning daylight despite the lingering heat of another beautiful desert day. Enjoying the familiar view, Meghan squeaked with surprise when she felt Alex’s fingers spear into her hair. The squeak quickly morphed into a deep groan when his strong fingers began to massage her scalp, rendering her boneless in seconds.

Though she would’ve been fine with him keeping that up for the next twenty-four hours, he lay her head on the back of the chair and draped all of her hair over the edge. And then he started brushing, and she died and went straight to heaven.
Oh. My. God.

Delightful flutters of bliss accompanied her hushed whimpers. She heard him pull the ottoman behind her and sit down. Since he settled in for the long haul, she simply let go and submersed herself in the spell he wove with his tender touch.

It was heaven, magic, and perfection all rolled into one.

A warm breeze blew over them. Meghan’s nipples peaked and throbbed with awareness. Her breasts felt especially heavy. She squirmed slightly when the need to have Alex’s hands on her body wiped out every other thought in her brain.

The brush pulled from her hairline to the curling ends a few more times and then stopped. She heard the brush drop onto the side table a second before his hands gathered all of her hair into a tail and started twirling until he pressed a long thick rope of auburn to the top of her head and secured it with a clip.

His occasional commands were the only words spoken, but that didn’t mean they weren’t communicating on a primal level. She loved when it was like this with him. Nothing quieted her riotous thoughts faster than totally tuning into her lover.

His fingers caressed her face. Sprawled in the chair with her head resting on the back, she opened her eyes and looked up. His face was mere inches from hers. Would he kiss her? Oh, she hoped he would. Alex’s lips were a preview of what heaven would be like.

“Meet me in the shower room when you’re ready.”

He leaned in. She readied for his mouth on hers. And then he dropped a soft kiss on her nose and backed away.

Her Major was playing the devil. And he was damn good at it.

Alone in the bedroom, she sat up, refastened the clip a little tighter, and glanced around. She loved this room. Loved the history and the knowledge that generations of the Valleja-Marquez family had lived here. Loved here. Made babies here. And yes, one or two had even taken their last breaths here.

She was Meghan Valleja-Marquez, and God willing, she and her hunky badass Major, the one with the loving dominant streak six miles wide, would spend a couple of decades right here. Making babies and loving each other. This was her fate. He was her destiny.

Everyone and everything else could go straight to hell.

She didn’t hurry but did move with a confidence and purpose that kept her thoughts from wandering. The sound of the tub filling spurred her to move faster. She stopped at the sink to peer in the mirror and make sure she wasn’t wearing broccoli in her teeth. When she finally rounded the corner into the huge bathing area, Meghan stumbled to a halt and took in the extraordinary scene.

Hurricanes of every size, clustered in groups on the floor and set around the impressive shower room, flickered with soft candlelight. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, and though it was faint, she heard the soft melodies of her favorite music mix—the one she used when massaging her alpha beast.

Oh. And that beast? He was waiting near the tiled platform surrounding the ginormous tub. His hand extended in her direction. The expression on his face when she slipped her hand in his was so loving and full of respect that her lip trembled from a wave of emotion.

She went straight to him and tried to curl into his big body. Craving the security his physical being offered, Meghan was peeved when he didn’t let her direct the proceedings.

She pouted and made sure to do it right in his face. Dammit. Hugging was off the agenda
? Well, shit.

Making absolutely no attempt to wipe the smirk from his handsome face, Alex whipped her around with a flick of his wrist, untied the robe’s belt, and slid the silken garment from her body.

“Get in the damn tub, wife, before I forget why we’re here.”

Meghan’s pout vanished at his seductive growl. Glancing down, she noted the spectacular bulge pressing against his sweats. Even after all this time, it gave her quite a thrill to know she caused his response.

Throwing down with a meekly murmured, “Yes, Master,” that in no way mirrored the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, she slid closer and bent to rest her hands on the raised tile platform as she prepared to slid into the tub.

His beefy hand swatted her ass so hard she nearly propelled face-first into the tub of fluffy bubbles.

“Ow!” she yelped.

He kissed her ass. “Better?”

Reaching back, she rubbed her poor butt. “No.” Her glare suggested he wasn’t playing fair. When she turned around to resume climbing into the tub, his hand came down and smacked her other cheek. Hard.

Instead of an affronted yelp, she groaned. He immediately put his lips on the flesh he’d just whacked. “Better?”

She flashed him a saucy moue and slid into the tub. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Okay, good.” He chuckled. Sitting on the tile surround near her shoulder, he picked up a bath pouf and plunged it into the water down against her outer thigh. “No more words.”

Fine by her because once he began to bathe her, she folded like an origami swan.