Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire
Chapter 92

I knew he wanted that

Yes, I’m yours,

from me and I didn’t give it to him. But he didn’t seem angry right now, “Mmm, maybe 90ish.” I said and he let out a little laugh.

“Progress,” he murmured, “Huge progress.”

I heard a flock of birds overhead and as they flew over the barn and the expanse of the property and I sighed, “It’s lovely here.”

“I love it here,” he said, “I needed to feel like you were safe. Home wasn’t safe. Here feels better.”

I turned over so that I was facing him and put my arms around him and nuzzled into his chest. His bruises were fading. He looked down at me happily. I felt safe there, then, in his arms, which was the strangest thing because I’d probably never known actual true danger before I’d met him. I traced his tattoo with my finger and enjoyed the feel of a gentle breeze that swooped through the loft.

Azriel’s POV

I hadn’t earned it yet. I hadn’t earned a “Yes, I’m yours.” I hadn’t earned, “I love you” yet. But I would.

After making love we laid in bed for the longest time. It was funny to think of it as “making love” instead of f*****g, like it’d always been, but I guess my mindset had started to shift. Did it qualify as making love if it was a little rough? To me it did. I loved her and I wanted her and I was expressing that love and that hunger with my body.

She cuddled up to me and drew circles on my arm and then my back with her fingertips and then I did it back and she squirmed. She made me feel like a teenager. A horny teenager who couldn’t get enough of her and who, in that moment at least, didn’t care if it was vanilla, chocolate, or blackjack berry thunder as long as it was with her.

“You’re very ticklish,” I told her, “I like how you squirm against me when I tickle you.”

She blushed and batted her eyelashes at me.

“Why don’t we warm up those sandwiches and eat and then we’ll go fishing?” I suggested and tapped her on the bottom. She smiled and stretched.

I got out of the bed and popped the bag into the microwave. She got up and put a new pair of panties on, a sexy silky pair that I’d bought her, put a matching bra on, and then pulled the yellow cotton dress over her head and started hunting for something to put her flowers into. I found her a mason jar that was down in one of the stalls and she cleaned it, put the bouquet in, and then put the yellow strap back around the waist of her dress.

We ate and then I walked her downstairs and pulled out the new fishing rods I’d bought that morning. I bought her a pink one and she thought it was hilarious that it was pink. We made our way down to the pond and I put the worm on for her and taught her how to cast. She was a natural; she caught twice as many fish as I did but wouldn’t touch the worm or the fish. I finally grabbed her as she muttered “one more cast” for the fifth time and carried her back to the barn over my shoulder, “We’ve been fishing all day. We have reservations, no more casts.”

She giggled as I put her down near the bed and reached for my keys. She wanted five minutes to freshen up and grab her purse so I waited in the jeep for her, thinking about the fact that I had to go to Vegas for some business and that I didn’t want to leave her at the house.

I didn’t want to leave her because, a) I still wasn’t content the security issues that plagued me after Earl and then after the shooting yesterday were totally resolved. I knew that there’d very likely be blowback from what I did in Mexico because Castillo had a local nephew who was a small time drug dealer and thug and it was him and his guys that’d breached security and gotten in by scaling up and in from behind the swimming pool but I had taken care of it and now that threat was eliminated. A taller fence was being put in today to make sure no one could get in that way.

Still, I needed to see that nothing would go wrong before trusting anything. And besides, b) I hated the thought of her not being beside me at night. What a 180 from congratulating myself so frequently that I had my king-sized bed all to myself to now aching for her when she wasn’t in my sights. The night I’d taken her to dinner and the beach when I’d left her alone for the night had been a long cold and sleepless night in the guest room without her warmth wrapped around me. The nights in Mexico without her had been torment, not feeling her, not hearing her breathing.

The Japanese restaurant I took her to was almost empty. The hostess I’d talked to that morning wasn’t in sight. The rest of the staff welcomed us and pointed to a table. She didn’t know what to order so I told her I’d order for us.

She examined everything carefully and skeptically but tried every dish that the server put in front of her after having first asked the waiter about shellfish. The waiter had waved her concerns off because of what we’d ordered but he didn’t speak very clear English so we were careful about what we’d ordered. She was good-natured about it despite telling me she hadn’t been a very adventurous eater in life so far.

“No s**t, Miss Vanilla Ice Cream is my Favorite,” I laughed and she blushed, “Until I found you, Mr. Blackjack Berry Thunder. Or should I say, until I was betrothed to you.” She didn’t look unhappy when she said that. I smiled at her.