From Justin’s perspective, there really wasn’t anything wrong with what Edith had said.
But still, it bothered him.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said, his voice tight, “but why did you close the door just now? Why did you leave me and Lucille alone like that?”
He took a deep breath and pressed on. “Edith, are you really so willing to let me spend more time with another woman?”
Edith blinked hard, twice in quick succession. She couldn’t quite figure out why Justin seemed so oddly irritable tonight.
She tried to explain, “I saw Miss Lowell was crying, and I thought, maybe you two still had something to talk about. I wasn’t in any hurry, so I just—”
Edith didn’t even finish her sentence before Justin crushed his lips to hers, cutting her off mid–word.
His kiss was fierce, almost punishing.
She winced, gasping out a pained protest. “Justin, you’re hurting me…”
He didn’t stop, but his grip softened a little.
The long kiss trailed from the window all the way to the couch, and before Edith knew what was happening, Justin was leading her toward the bathroom–still kissing her, not giving her a chance to catch her
breath.
Water was already streaming into the tub, the sound echoing in the tiled space. Justin’s mouth didn’t leave hers, his hands moving deftly to
undress her.
There was another floor–to–ceiling window in the bathroom.
But they were on the eighteenth floor, overlooking the ocean, with no chance of prying eyes. Here, bathing behind a wall of glass felt as safe
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as a fortress.
Her dress slid to the floor with a heavy thud.
Edith felt dizzy from his kisses; before she could gather her thoughts, she
found herself in Justin’s arms, carried straight into the bath.
The water was deliciously hot, and her skin flushed immediately.
Justin stepped in after her, his long legs splashing water everywhere, sending droplets across the marble floor like a sudden summer rain.
Edith reclined in the tub, looking up at Justin as he leaned over her.
He was all intensity and hunger, his eyes wild–like a wolf in the shadows of the forest, glinting under the bathroom lights with a hint of red.
That was his anger, burning just beneath the surface.
Edith was thoroughly lost, unable to understand what had sparked this fire in him tonight.
Justin reached for her hand, guiding it to the buttons of his shirt.
She obediently placed her fingers there.
“What are you waiting for? Help me undress.”
It was as if she were under a spell. Whatever Justin said, she did.
One by one, she undid the buttons, the wet shirt clinging to his lean, sculpted torso.
She pulled the shirt open, slowly, her hands trembling.
But Justin wasn’t finished. He took her hand again, placing it on his belt buckle. His voice was rougher than usual, low and smoky. “Keep going.”
The gold–accented black leather felt scorching hot under her touch.
Blushing, Edith fumbled awkwardly with the buckle, finally getting it undone before hesitating.
Still not satisfied, Justin repeated, “Keep going.”
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She bit her lip and finished undressing him.
His body was both lean and powerful, water beading on his abs and running down in rivulets.
Justin leaned in, catching her earlobe between his lips. His whisper was commanding, possessive. “Edith, don’t ever let me spend time alone with another woman again. I’m your husband.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.