Forbidden Sensations: A Dark Romance by Savannah Rose (e book reader pc TXT) 📕

were folly. I used a word like 'folly' on purpose, as there is no real English-to-Spanish translation for it. Also because no one uses such an old fashioned noun anymore. My budding internal poet liked it, however. Folly.

The only element of truth to their numerous flawed hypotheses was that Maddox did ask me to marry him, although by no means under duress, so to speak.

It was a Saturday night, and just on the cusp of Spring. He was captivated quite nicely on our four-poster bed, with his eyes covered by a silken black blindfold.

His chest was still heaving from his latest volcanic ejaculation, and when he finally did go flaccid and slipped out from inside of me, he gasped in such abject desperation, it was as if he were drawing his last breath.

I untied the blindfold, but left his arms secured to the posts. I liked to do that. Keeping him bound to the frame while I watched him recover was a turn on in its own tantalizing right.

Sometimes I would run my finger against his parted lips, or perhaps kiss him, maybe just brush my nipples across his mouth.

Once in a while I'd let him suckle on me, that is, if he wasn't too tired to lift his head up high enough to reach my tits. It was ten kinds of delightful to watch him try.

Maybe I was just imagining it, but his eyes were always greener after he came. On this particular Saturday night they were even greener, and studied me like never before. Locked on me, making me smile curiously as I began unbuckling the first cuff.

We'd opted for the more user-friendly design of restraint – sheepskin lined, leather manacles – much like the one he'd used on me, on the deck of the Insatiable, complete with galvanized chain. There was something about the sound the chains would make as he struggled and writhed beneath me, the muscles in his neck and chest straining like cords of rope, his teeth clenched together as he begged me to let him climax… better than any ambient love song, that's for sure.

“What?” I asked, freeing his hand, then straddling him to release the other.

I watched his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed over it. And those eyes, like limpid pools of emeralds. So green.

He put his hands against my hips, supporting my weight against his pelvis.

I was still a few percentage points away from full surgical recovery, so the added assistance was a nice, and necessary touch. Especially after the grind we just enjoyed. Workouts like the one we just pounded through were a shit ton better than any god damn rowing machine. Hand to God.

“Seriously, what?”

Maddox took my hands, clasped them over his heart, and swallowed again. He asked in the most gentle, sincerest tone I'd ever heard if I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with him.

I instantly thought about being a smart ass. I thought about asking him where the ring in the champagne glass was. The pre-planned, choreographed proposal with a photographer hiding in the bushes. Speaking of, what about the bended knee? Don't I at least get that?

Instead, I curtailed the sarcasm. I looked down into his eyes, and suddenly understood why they were greener than before. He was in god damn love with me. I crossed my arms in front of my boobs.

“On one condition,” I said.

He nodded. Anything Ramona wanted, Ramona got. It was hard not to get spoiled as shit with this guy. Maddox was like my own personal genie with unlimited wishes, an eye for business, and a nine-inch cock. Life, at the moment, was good.

“No asshole diamond ring.”

“What?”

“It's a scam. The whole spend a third of your monthly salary on a rock for the little woman? Total crock. Besides, three parts of your monthly salary would snap my finger in half. Hell, my whole arm.”

“If I promise not to get you one, will you marry me?”

I smiled. What a proposal this was.

“Yes,” I said, and flopped my body down on his because hell, I was so damn in love with him, too.

So, yes, life at the moment was good. Especially here. Now. Sitting on an Irish sex machine in an infinity pool.

The sun had set completely, and the moon was just beginning its nightly watch in the sky. God's flashlight, as Maddox told me his brother used to call it. I liked the metaphor.

“You want to go inside?” he asked, right up against my ear and sending warm, wonderful shivers down my spine.

“And do what?”

“We'll think of something,” he replied, cupping my breast and kissing the tip of my earlobe. Again, and again.

Very familiar heat began to rise in my groin. Blossoming, like the petals of a flower, but fast and eager, as if this bloom couldn't wait to open.

“Maybe we should have a special wing for sex addicts,” I whispered, thinking we'd be its best customers.

Maddox took my hand. “C'mon,” he said, and rose up from the water. I watched as it ran down his body in thin little rivers, and I couldn't look away. It made me hungry for him.

Maddox helped me from the pool, and I grabbed his ass with both hands and squeezed as hard as I could. His breath drew in between his teeth when I dug my nails deep into the muscled flesh of his buttocks.

The tops of the palm trees swayed in the ocean breeze, and stars dotted the evening sky.

Very magical.

Very dreamy.

The moon shone on the surface of the water, a soft silver light on fire.

I grinned, and pressed my finger on the tip of his nose.

“I think you love me,” I said, and kissed him.

“I know I do,” he whispered back, “and I know you love the heck out of me.”

THE END

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