The CEO And The Wedding Planner: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 201) by Flora Ferrari

Author:Flora Ferrari
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Melody

The presidential suite of the hotel is like something out of the crazy fantasies I used to have as a kid in the orphanage.

I’d curl up at night and imagine these wide-open rooms, these plush unrealistic – it seemed to me then – havens. With its marble floors covered in thick rugs, its couches and chairs that look straight out of a palace, and huge paintings hanging from the walls, I feel like I’ve floated into a reverie.

I walk to the fireplace, which is as tall as me, staring up at it in wonder.

“How do they even have a fireplace up here?” I gasp.

Mason walks up behind me, moving quietly for a man his massive size. He wraps his arms around me and leans close, lips brushing tantalizingly against my skin. “They must’ve known you were coming and wanted to impress you.”

“Ha ha, mister,” I giggle, but really more warmth smooths through me.

Today has just been absolutely heavenly from start to finish.

When he told me he was a virgin on the private plane – the private freaking plane – I didn’t believe him at first. It just made no sense. I thought he was just telling me to try and make me feel better.

But when I looked into his eyes, I saw the truth there, and I saw something else, too.

He’d never lie to me.

My man will never lie to me.

I want to tell him the truth about who I am, which is in itself easily the closest I’ve come to ever wanting to be open with anybody.

Even with Gertrude, the need has never felt this overwhelming.

And yet there’s also a part of me that wants to enjoy this evening, my body and soul full of glee after the wonder that was the Niagara Falls, standing in the same spot as my parents’ picture and getting snapped with Mason at my side.

“You haven’t seen the bedroom yet,” he says, his voice deep and husky, letting me know that this is it, he can’t hold himself back any longer.

And neither can I.

My mind wants to come clean about who I really am, my past, that evil night with the blood, the violence, and the pain.

But with Mason’s hand on the small of my back, softly and yet determinedly guiding me down the wide hall to the bedroom, the door ajar so that I can make out the hardwood floor and the four poster bed, I find that those concerns drift away.

My body has entirely different concerns.

Later, later.

Because right now my womb is screaming at me to just be in the moment, to forget the pain of the past and drift indulgently into the pleasure of the present.

Mason closes the door behind us, showing the fanciest bedroom I’ve ever stood in. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its lights sheathed in glistening diamonds, making the room sparkle magically.

The bed’s sheets are silk and red, inviting, the closed curtains the same color, hanging from a golden rail.

“I feel like a princess,” I whisper, and then curse myself for being the biggest dork ever.

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