Instagram ellopiageenos: hurt myself again

11/18/14

hurt myself again

''You know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you.Especially when you’re giggling like a schoolgirl.”Oh yes—the tickling. Gah! The tickling. I move quickly so that I’m straddling him, but immediately understanding my evil intent, he grabs both of my wrists.“No,” he says and he means it.I pout at him but decide that he’s not ready for this.
I place my index finger on his lips.“Hush, I know,” I murmur and plant a soft kiss on his lips where my  finger has just been, then curl up on his chest. 
He puts his arms around me and presses his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply as he gently strokes my back. I don’t know how long we lie there, but eventually I break the comfortable silence between us.
I wave my hand airily at the surroundings. Smirking, he follows me to the center of the room where I stand and gawk at the view—the spectacular gardens reflected in the looking glass and the spectacular , my husband, reflected back at me, his gaze bright and bold.“I would build this for you,” he whispers. “Just to see the way the light  burnishes your hair, right here, right now.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look like an angel.” He kisses me just below my earlobe, takes my hand in his, and murmurs, “We despots do that for the women we love.”
He grins, looking gorgeous, then leans in and kisses me hard. When he pulls away, I’m breathless. His eyes are darker, hooded and heated, and I’m warm in spite of the cold water.“Come. Let’s head back. Now we have to shower . I’ll drive.”


He looks so sexy in his trademark white linen shirt and jeans, and his aviator specs tucked into the V of his open shirt. The flash disturbs him. He blinks up at me and smiles his shy smile.
“How are you?” he asks.“Sad to be going home,” I murmur. “I like having you to myself.”He clasps my hand and lifting it to his lips, grazes my knuckles with a sweet kiss. “Me too.”“But?” I ask, hearing that small word unsaid at the end of his simple statement.
He frowns. “But?” he repeats disingenuously. I tilt my head to one side, gazing at him with the tell me expression I have been perfecting over the last couple of days. He sighs, putting his newspaper down. “I want this arsonist caught and out of our lives.”“Oh.” That seems fair enough, but I’m surprised by his bluntness.

I curl my fingers around his face and into his hair, pulling him toward me. “If I hadn’t gone, would you be standing here, like this, now?”His eyes melt, the color of a storm cloud, and he smiles his shy smile, my favorite smile. “No,” he says and steps into the elevator still holding me. He leans down and kisses me gently. “No, I wouldn’t. But I would know I could keep you safe, because you wouldn’t defy me.”He sounds vaguely regretful . . . Shit.
He kisses me again , more heated this time, and I fist my fingers in his hair, holding him against me, our tongues twisting in a slow sensual dance with each other. When the elevator pings to a halt at the penthouse, we are both breathless.
“I know you’re tired,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against mine. “But I’d really like to go to bed . . . and not to sleep.” He kisses  the corner of my mouth. “It’s our first night back here, and you’re really mine.” His voice drifts off as he plants soft kisses down my throat. 
He is slumbering peacefully beside me as I stare at the pink and golden streaks of the new dawn through the vast windows. His arm is draped loosely over my breasts,and I try to match his breathing in an effort to get back to sleep, but it’s hopeless.I shift onto my side to gaze at him, appraising his beauty. I know he watches me sleep, but I rarely get the opportunity to repay the compliment. He looks so young and carefree in his sleep, his long lashes fanned against his cheek, a light smattering of stubble covering his jaw, and his sculptured lips slightly parted, relaxed as he breathes deeply. I want to kiss him, to push my tongue between his lips, run my fingers over his soft yet prickly stubble. I really have to fight the urge not to touch him, not to disturb him. Hmm . . . I could just tease his earlobe with my teeth and suck. 
















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