Chapter 25
Valentina
Brax's mouth drags up my throat. He nibbles on my pulse until it's running so fast my vision blurs. His hands slide along my hips, anchoring me against him as if the entire world has narrowed to the inches between our bodies.
Every thought I had about Finn, Brenna, and dinner evaporates. There's nothing careful about the way he kisses me. There's no hesitation or conflict, just his intention to consume every part of my being.
I fist the collar of his shirt and yank him closer, swallowing the low sound he makes as I slide my leg against the inside of his. His thigh muscles tighten. His grip on my waist sharpens, pinning me to him.
I slide my hands under his boxers, stroking his shaft and rubbing the tip with my thumb.
"Slow down," he breathes against my mouth.
"Why? Thought this was a quickie?" I answer, biting his lower lip.
His breath stutters. "Doesn't mean I want to cum in two seconds."
I snicker, then flip out from under him. He turns on his back, and I stand over him. His eyes light up, and I unzip his pants. "These have to go." I grab the waistband and yank them off, displaying his hard erection.
Flames burn on his expression. He takes his finger and circles it in the air, ordering, "Take that robe off."
I slowly untie the belt, then slip it off. It falls to the floor. "Is this what you want, dear hubby?"
He scans my body, then mumbles, "Hotter than Wonder Woman." I glance at my chest, and he grabs me and tugs me over him.
I can't dwell on my branded mark. I shriek, laughing.
He smacks his palm into my ass and keeps it there. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you," I admit, my heart pitter-pattering.
He moves his hands to my thighs, then yanks my knees next to his hips. "Quickie now. Longer session after dinner."
I lean down, smile against his lips, and sink over him.
"Fucking hell, Minx," he groans.
My breath hitches into his. His palm hits my ass cheek again. The sting bounces to my core. His mouth claims me harder, his tongue moving deeper against mine.
I roll my hips, taking all of him in, then pulling away. He pushes me back as soon as there's only an inch of him inside me. I moan, breath shaking harder.
Heat pools low in my stomach, spreading through me in a slow, irresistible sweep. His shirt brushes my skin, and he drags a knuckle down my spine.
I tremble, whimpering louder, and rotating my hips faster.
His voice dips, quiet and heavy. "That's my wife."
Wife.
Every time he calls me that pride fills me. It's unexpected, not a feeling I ever allow. I realize it's because he sounds proud to claim me as his.
He kisses the corner of my mouth, mumbling, "I love watching you unravel."
Love.
It's the second time he's said it today.
Did he mean it on the phone when he said it?
I counter, "I don't unravel." My pussy throbs around him.
He smirks, dragging two fingers up the inside of my thigh. "You're unraveling right now." He pushes his thumb against my clit and circles.
I gasp.
His eyes darken in satisfaction, the shift so blatant it courses down my chest. He kisses me again. It's slow at first, then deeper, then with a hunger that threatens to set the entire room on fire. His hand grips my ass tighter.
I lift my hips, unapologetically inviting more adrenaline, and it rolls through my veins.
He circles his thumb faster and thrusts harder. "Valentina," he murmurs against my jaw, voice low and reverent. "God, you're—"
He doesn't finish. Words get lost when his mouth finds the spot under my ear that turns my pulse chaotic. My fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently, guiding him back to my lips.
His fingers draws slow arcs that send heat sparking across my skin, pulling me under in the best possible way.
I arch against him, and he lets out a muffled growl.
He lifts his head, forehead pressing to mine, our breaths mingling. "You good?" he asks, voice rough from the way he's holding himself in check.
I drag my nails down his back, deliberate, slow enough to make his teeth clench. I pant, "Do I look unsure?"
His eyes flicker shut for a single heartbeat. He pins them on me and orders, "You have to come first."
"Then...make...me...oh Dio! Oh Dio! Oh Dio!" I blurt out as I fall over the cliff. Endorphins burst in my cells, and white light flashes.
"Fucking hell, Minx," he grits, thrusts a few more times, then a rumble drags from his throat. He grips me tighter and drops his face into the curve of my neck. His body convulses under mine.
The adrenaline heightens, then slowly falls again against his shudders. His hot breath beats into my neck. My vision returns to normal.
He circles his arms around me and holds me tight to him, stroking my back.
Dinner with his family.
"Brax."
"Mmm?"
"You're going to make us late."
He kisses the base of my throat. "I don't care."
I curl into his body for another minute, then moan. I push up off him. "I don't want to be late. That can't be my first impression."
His lips twitch. "Finn already met you."
I wince. "Don't remind me."
He chuckles. "I thought you looked hot with all the whipped cream on you."
My cheeks reheat. I groan, wincing. "And you had to remind me."
He chuckles, then nips lightly at my collarbone. "Maybe we should skip dinner and stay here all night."
I grip his jaw and force him to look at me. "Really?"
His face falls. "No. We need to go."
I nod, nervous. I've been since he called and gave me hope that Finn and Brenna will forgive him and give me a chance. And if that's possible, I want it. Not just for him but me too. I haven't had family since my parents died.
His hand slides into my hair, tugging just enough to pull a small gasp from me. He orders, "Get off me before I decide dinner doesn't happen."
"You started this," I remind him.
"I'll finish it when we get back."
Heat shoots through me so sharply my breath stumbles. He watches the reaction strike, and wicked satisfaction crosses his face. It makes me want to shove him back down and get a replay.
He kisses me once before easing me off his lap. "Let's get ready."
I stand with shaky legs.
He straightens his shirt, still breathing unsteadily, and looks at me like he wants to pull me back into the bed and forget the outside world exists. He warns, "We're not done here."
"I never said we were," I reply, shooting him a coy look and sauntering into the bathroom.
He whistles, and I laugh, then jump in the shower. I wash my hair, dry and curl it, then put on my makeup. I slip into the dress and heels and step out of the closet.
He mutters, "You're going to be the end of me, Minx."
My flutters erupt.
He grabs my hand and escorts me through the building to his Mustang. He holds open the door, and I slide in. He gets in next to me.
My anxiety flares the second Brax turns the key and the engine roars to life.
The Mustang vibrates beneath us. It's steady, powerful, and impatient, mirroring the way my nerves climb up my gut.
I keep my hands folded in my lap, fingers tight, then loose, then tight again as he pulls out of my parking garage and onto the street.
He glances at me, reading every twitch and micro-expression I don't have the energy to hide. "You okay, Minx?"
I watch the city blur past my window. "I'm thinking."
"About what?"
"About Finn possibly stabbing me with a fork during dinner."
His mouth curves. "Finn prefers the steak knife."
"That's reassuring."
He laughs under his breath. "He won't stab you. Not tonight."
"What a relief," I mumble.
"Take a deep breath. Everything will be fine," he confidently states.
I crush my fingers together again.
He reminds me, "Brenna invited us. You've already got another ally."
"Because she said she either wants to 'adopt me or bury me'?" I ask.
"It was a joke, Minx, relax," he orders. Then he reaches over and slides his palm across my thigh.
My breathing settles by a fraction.
He reassures, "We walk in together, and I'll stay beside you the entire time. If you want to leave early, we leave early. If Finn says something stupid, I shut it down. Sound good?"
I nod. "Yeah."
His hand doesn't leave my thigh for the rest of the drive. He veers into an older neighborhood.
Finn and Brenna's house sits on a quiet street lined with mature trees and soft lighting. Brax parks, kills the ignition, and turns to me before I can open the door. "You ready?"
"No."
"Good." He leans in to kiss me, his lips twitching, then says, "Let's go."
He gets out, opens my door, takes my hand, and leads me up the driveway.
I try not to think about Finn sharpening steak knives.
Brax knocks and tugs me into his waist. Within seconds, the door swings open.
Brenna greets us in fitted black jeans and a cream sweater. She offers me a cautious smile. Her voice is warm, but measured. "You must be Valentina."
I straighten, returning her same expression. "I am."
"I'm Brenna." She steps aside. "Come in. Dinner's almost ready."
Brax's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me forward.
Finn stands in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched. His eyes track every inch of me in one sharp sweep. It's just as calculating, guarded, and suspicious as it was in Brax's apartment.
A chill runs down my spine.
He hates me.
"Finn," Brax greets.
"Brax." Finn nods once toward me. "Valentina."
"Nice to see you again, Finn," I respond, steady even though my stomach twists.
He doesn't smile or scowl. His eyes continue to watch me.
Brenna announces, "I'm ready for a drink. Valentina, do you drink wine?"
"Am I Italian?"
She laughs. "Red good?"
"Please."
"Good. If you didn't like red wine, I'd have to question everything."
I smile, appreciating the effort she's making. I add, "You have a lovely home."
Her eyes dart around the gray-colored walls. "Thanks. I've been thinking of giving it a facelift."
"Really? It's so nice," I genuinely state.
"It's been like this for a while. I kind of want a color change." She turns her attention to Finn.