He kisses my eyes, my nose, my cheeks. He kisses away the tears, clutching my face in between his hands.“I love you,” he breathes. “Even though you make me so mad—I feel so alive with you.” I don’t have the energy to open either my eyes or my mouth to respond. Very gently, he lays me back on the bed and eases out of me.I mouth some wordless protest. He climbs off the bed and undoes the handcuffs. When I’m free, he gently rubs my wrists and ankles, then lies down beside me again, pulling me into his arms. I stretch out my legs. Oh my, that feels good. I feel good. That was, without doubt, the most intense climax I have ever endured. Hmm . . . a punishment fuck.I really must misbehave more often.
“I’m resourceful.”“That you are,” he whispers and releases my hand to circle his arms around me. Pulling me into an embrace, he buries his nose in my hair. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, and feel the tension leave his body as he nuzzles me.
“I love you,” I murmur, and he smiles his heart-achingly shy smile, and I melt. “I will always love you.”“And I you,” he says softly.“In spite of my disobedience?” I raise my eyebrow.“Because of your disobedience.” He grins.I crack my spoon through the burnt sugar crust of my dessert and shake my head. Will I ever understand this man? Hmm—this crème brulée is delicious.
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“Dance with me.” He pulls me into his arms.“If you insist.”“I insist.”A slinky, cheesy melody starts. Is this a Latin rhythm? He grins down at me and starts to move, sweeping me off my feet and taking me with him round the salon.A man with a voice like warm melted caramel croons. It’s a song I know but can’t place. He dips me low, and I yelp in surprise and giggle. He smiles, his eyes filled with humor. Then he scoops me up and spins me under his arm.“You dance so well,” I say. “It’s like I can dance.”
He dips me low again and plants a swift kiss on my lips.“I’d miss your love,” I murmur, echoing the lyrics.“I’d more than miss your love,” he says and spins me once more. Then he sings the words softly in my ear making me swoon.The track ends and he gazes down at me, his eyes dark and luminous , all humor gone, and I’m suddenly breathless.
“Come to bed with me?” he whispers and it’s a heartfelt plea that tugs at my heart.You had me at I do—two and half weeks ago. But I know this is his way of apologizing and making sure all is well between us after our spat.
When I wake, the sun is shining through the portholes and the water reflects shimmering patterns onto the cabin ceiling. He is nowhere to be seen. I stretch out and smile. Hmm . . . I’ll take a punishment fuck followed by makeup sex any day. I marvel what it is to go to bed with two different men—angry and sweet let-me-make-it-up-to-you-in-any-way-I-can . It’s tricky to decide which of them I like the best.I rise and head for the bathroom. Opening the door, I find him inside shaving, naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist. He turns and beams, not fazed that I am interrupting him. I have discovered that he will never lock the door if he is the only person in the room—the reason why is sobering, and not one I want to dwell on.
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