Page 28 of Vows From Hell

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Page 28 of Vows From Hell

Immediately, I washed the foam off my hands, wiped them on a small kitchen towel, and followed him downstairs. Why was he leaving the room while taking calls? Was there something I shouldn’t be hearing or was that just a habit of his?

Regardless, I was sick and tired of being told about his plans only when necessary. I wanted to know everything if we continued to stay together.

And we had to stay together.

There wasn’t another option for us.

We were too addicted to one another to let go.

The phone call didn’t last too long. By the time I was close to him, all I heard were muffled goodbyes. A sigh of frustration flared my nostrils as I turned on my heel to leave.

I shrieked, feeling his hand wrap around my wrist and tug me backward. I hit his body, and he pulled me into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Trying to eavesdrop?’’

“Yes,’’ I replied without hesitation. “That’s the only way I can actually find out something. Or force you to tell me; otherwise, I’m left in the dark. I don’t like it.’’

Micah chuckled, his chest vibrating.

“I’m sorry, Bambi. It’s just a habit. I have no intention of keeping secrets. Not when it comes to you.’’

“You’d better fix that nasty habit of yours.’’

“Or what?”

His tone was sultry and my eyes fluttered closed. I leaned against him, and he released my wrist. Slowly, his hands trailed inside of my shirt, going upward until he squeezed my breasts.

“Or I might just kill you. I don’t like it.’’

It was a lie. There wasn’t a scenario where I’d be able to take his life, and judging by the way he laughed, he was well aware of that.

“Let me say it again, dying by your hand is an honor. But right now, I’d rather stay alive and apologize.’’

I moaned as he pinched my nipples, my knees buckling. Micah caught me and picked me up, carrying me toward the bed in bridal style.

He put me softly on the mattress and got down on his knees.

Aside from his shirt and underwear, I had nothing else on.

Micah looked so pretty on his knees for me.

He started kissing my thigh, going upward. Not once did he move his eyes from mine, ignoring a fire deep inside of me. My chest tightened, excitement rushing through my veins, and I found myself eager to see what he was going to do next.

“I’m really sorry,’’ he mumbled.

“Are you?”

“Yes.’’

His open-mouthed, wet kisses left a trail. He took his sweet time leaving a trace of his apologies in the form of hickeys. Steadily, he was parting my legs, his fingertips burning my flesh.

I started getting wet by the look on his face.

It wasn’t that he desired me, but that he needed me. It was evident just how desperate this man was to have me. It showed that, regardless of his attitude and words, I always had the upper hand.

“You seem to enjoy having me on my knees in front of you.’’

“Who wouldn’t enjoy having a man as pretty as yourself in front of them?”




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