A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement

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She waits for a moment, then says, "Close your eyes while I set up."

I do.

Immediately, my imagination stirs. What's in her vision? What fantasy am I filling for her?

Reality is always different than fantasy. Some people find the actual experience a letdown.

Daphne knows better.

Still, I need to do my best for her. I want to make this an experience she remembers. One she comes back to again and again, on her own. With other—

No. I can't think of her with someone else. I can't think of anything twenty-two days out. Only of this time I have with her. Where she's mine.

I take a deep breath and let out a steady exhale. There's a heavier weight to this already. She's my wife.

I need to make this count.

Three weeks with the most eager, curious, fascinating woman I've ever met. That's not as good as forever, but it's more than a lot of people get.

I take another deep breath, and I say, "Come in."

She moves with slow, steady steps. I feel her warmth, catch her scent as she passes me. Apricot and lime and something all Daphne.

What is she doing? Wearing? Thinking?

My head whirs with a kaleidoscope of possibilities.

Then she says, "I'm ready," and my eyes and thoughts go right to her.

Daphne is better than anything I can imagine.

This is better than any fantasy.

She's in that same crop top and shorts, only this time, she's not wearing anything under the shirt. Her nipples show through the thin material.

Her chest heaves with each of her inhales.

She's already lost in this, and I want to be the one to find her.

I want to tear the fucking cotton in half.

I want to have my way with her right now.

And I want to savor every minute.

Then she pulls a condom from her pocket and tosses it on the bed, and shoots me a cheeky smile and I want to claim her even more.

She is a brat.

And I fucking love it.

I close the door behind me.

She sits up a little straighter.

This isn't a scenario. We aren't playing a game with rules, but we have our roles. I sink into mine. The stern boss.

I let my voice drop to a demanding tone. "Where are you going dressed like that?"

She sits up straighter and speaks with a tiny hint of defiance. "Dressed like what?"

"In shorts." I take another step toward her. "This is a nice place."

"They're nice shorts." She holds my stare. She sits there with the perfect mix of strength and power and pliability.

A dare to challenge her back.

To make her.

I've never wanted that before, but with her, I need it.

I move closer. Closer. Close enough to touch her.

I lower my hand so it brushes her shoulder. The skin. Then, the strap of her tank top.

She shudders from the contact.

I keep my touch soft, even though I want to hold her close, to feel every part of her. I have to take my time. I have to tease her. "And this?" I finger the strap.

She looks up at me. "What about it?"

"This—" I slip my hand under the soft fabric so my fingers brush her breast.

She fights a groan. "What about that?" She gasps as I cup her breast with my palm.

I run my fingers over her nipples, teasing her with a soft touch. Desire floods her expression. Anticipation. Need.

Her body melts into mine, but she still stands strong and proud and defiant.

I let even more demand drop into my voice. "You want people to see your breasts?"

"Maybe," she breathes.

"You want people to see me do this?" I toy with her again and again.

She lets out a low, heavy sigh. It's pure desire. Pure need. "You wouldn't." She finds her resolve enough to look me in the eyes. "You don't have the audacity."

The dare makes my entire body buzz. "Are you testing me, baby?" I ask.

She shrugs maybe I am, maybe I'm not. "Prove me wrong."

My dick whines. My blood rushes south. She's so sexy this way. Too sexy.

I'm not going to last long enough.

But I can work with that.

I toy with her one more time, then I push her onto her back. Hard enough to move her but not hard enough to hurt.

She gasps as she falls backward. She lands with a soft thud. Looks up at me like she can't believe my actions. Or how much she likes them.

She catches herself and slips into her role. "If my shirt is a problem…" She pulls the fabric over her head and tosses it aside. "Maybe that's better."

Fuck, she looks sexy, defiant, and topless and spread over the bed.

Her blue eyes are heavy with desire.

Her slim curves are stretched over the comforter.

Before I can instruct her, she continues. She surprises me again. "Maybe the shorts are a problem too." She lifts her hips and pushes the fabric off her ass. "Is that better?"

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