Bad Little Bride

My mouth waters, my hands vibrating with need and an overwhelming sense of anxiousness.

I’ve thought about the first time I’d get to touch her more times that I can count, imagined hundreds of different ways this would go, and while I did fuck my own hand once to the image of taking her on these very stairs, no fantasy could possibly match the real thing.

My bride staring down at me, panting and trembling with glazed eyes and parted lips…and we haven’t even started yet.

All I’ve done is place my hands on her thighs and her head’s already hit the glass behind it.

“Are you pent up?” I tease, palms sliding higher and taking the hem of her dress with me. “Are you going to come before I even get to touch you with my tongue?”

“You wish it would be that easy,” she rasps, licking her lips, eyes following the path of my hands.

“Wrong. I want to earn my dessert.”

“Then you better hope you can serve a five-course meal first, because if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn in all areas.”

“Don’t worry.” My chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes zeroed in on the curve of her thigh as I choose the very first spot of her I’ll ever kiss. I spot a tiny little scar, the slightest shade different from the rest of her skin, and lock on. Right there. “I won’t leave you hanging. I’ll stay buried between your legs all night if that’s what it takes.” Leaning forward, I press my lips to her heated flesh, groaning at the first contact, and it’s only her fucking thigh. My tongue slips out and I swipe it across the satin that is her skin, slowly kissing it again before my teeth close over the spot.

Boston hisses, shaking at the feel of my teeth, her hands slamming onto the wall beside her, and I want her to bury them in my hair, yank me closer and ride me until my face is raw and her skin is pebbled with the burn of my stubble.

My palms glide higher and higher, pausing when the tight hem of the dress gets stuck beneath the curve of her ass, so fucking plump the material couldn’t possibly slide over it without a little help.

My hands slide along the backs of her thighs until I’m cupping her ass in the curve of my palm. I squeeze and she clenches in my hands.

“Fuck, I want to turn you around, see my hand on you and the difference in our skin tones. See how perfect they look together, but I’ll save that for another time.”

“Presumptuous, are we?”

My chuckle is dark, and when I pull my hands from her ass, I yank the dress with it, leaving it to pool around her waist. “Yes. We are.”

I shove her hips to the wall, reveling in the little mewl of approval that leaves her. My hands slide forward, fingers following the point of her hips down her panty line, and when I’m met with moisture in the center, my chest rumbles.

“I knew it,” I rasp. “Knew you were wet for me. Tell me, did it turn you on to hear your husband fuck himself knowing he was staring at you while he did it?”

“Obviously,” she sasses, thighs rubbing together.

“Mmm. Yes.” My thumbs stretch out, sliding over the wet spot. “Obviously.”

“Shit,” she pants, my pretty little thing starved for more.

I want her famished, but not for this. For me.

But I’ll settle for this tonight.

Taking my time, I slip my fingers into her underwear, my knuckles sliding up and down her slick pussy until they’re coated in her arousal, and then I sweep back up, circling her clit once. Twice.

She bucks her hips and my lips curve. “So fucking responsive. I can’t imagine what you’ll be like when I’m inside you.”

“You’ll never know.”

“I’d kill to.”

“Bet you would.”

“Easiest way to make a million,” I mumble, and lean in, taking the tip of my tongue and every ounce of restraint I have to tease her, slowly flicking her clit. It’s the barest of touches, the tiniest tease for us both, yet she sucks in a sharp breath the same moment my eyes clash closed, unable to handle the first taste of my sweet pussy. Because it is mine.

I need more, so I take it, tongue lapping at her clit, folding and rolling in rapid succession, reveling in the way her thighs clench. A soft sound has my eyes snapping open, and I watch as her nails scrape along the glass at her back, needing to dig into something but refusing to allow that something to be me.

We can’t have that, now can we?

Trailing my fingers down her leg, I grip her beneath the knee, hauling her leg up and settling it along my shoulder, my other hand shooting up to grip her hip in case she loses her footing, but she needs no help. She has balance for days, my beautiful ballerina, and I can’t fucking wait to see what she can do with it.

I hook her panties once more, pushing them to the side, and this time, when I lean in, I don’t hold back. I fucking devour her, eating her pussy like it’s my last meal and goddamn, it would be my final request if I was given one.

I suck and tug at her clit, rolling it between my lips, teeth folding behind them for added pressure, and she moans long and loud, her back bowing slightly.

“You taste so good.” I lick along her slit, swallowing what she gives me, and blow warm air over her clit. “Sweet and earthy and made for me.” I take it in my mouth once more, my hands roaming her thighs, sliding up and clenching her ass in my hands. She pushes into the touch, and finally, those hips start rolling. It’s not messy or uncontrolled. No, it’s a deep, fluid motion. A routine she’s creating right here, right now. Just for me. “That’s right. Dance on my tongue.”

“Pretty sure he wasn’t talking in this scene of the book,” she pants.

“Mmm,” I hum with a smile. “Him no, but that little voice in her head said she really fucking wished he would have, and by the sounds you’re making and the way you move every time I speak…you do too.”

I want her on my lap, dancing on my dick until I’m delirious.

My hand slides around, slipping between her legs from behind, and she groans, pushing her ass back and creating a damn near backward C with the arch of her back.

She’s begging me to do more. Take more.

So I do, I press the knuckle of my pointer finger to her taut little hole, probing not entering, but the moment she feels the pressure, her whole body quakes.

That’s what pushes her over the edge, and she does what she’s been wanting to do since the second I hit my knees.

Those tiny hands shoot to my shoulders, gripping me, nails digging in through my jacket, and I have the urge to shred it from my body, wanting to feel her tear at my skin, that burn that only she could create that starts at my back and zips down to my cock.

“I’m so fucking hard for you,” I moan against her, sucking her clit like a madman, my finger leaving her ass and moving forward. “I’m going to feel your insides now.” That’s the only warning I give, sliding two fingers into her, slow and fucking steady.

My cock twitches instantly, her pussy walls clamping down the second I’ve entered.

“You’re soaking wet,” I tell her. “Dripping down my hand already like such a good little bride, but we both know you’re not good, are you? No, you’re a bad, bad little brat.”

“Fuck,” she rattles, head thrown back, hips pushing down into my hand as she tries to fuck it faster.

Using my other hand, I shove her hips into the window, locking her in place.

Her head snaps down, fire in those green fucking gems of eyes, and I lean back, smirk slowly spreading. Her eyes fall to my mouth, to the mess she’s made of it, and her eyelashes flutter at the sight.

Slowly, I thrust into her pussy again, so fucking slow, in and out, and I don’t speed up the slightest.

“You’re a dick.”

“And you’re going to wish you knew what a slow build felt like when I’m done with you.” I keep our gazes locked, leaning in and sweeping my tongue across her. “This way, when your orgasm hits, you’ll have no idea it was coming, but when it does…you will come so hard and fast, and all that tension in your body will disappear. You’ll be putty in my arms, just the way I want you.”

I lick across her again, the sound of her arousal as my fingers disappear inside her the only thing to be heard.

Her lips clamp tight, nostrils flaring.

“Do you like the sight of me between your legs?” I taunt, and I expect her to snap back, but she doesn’t.

Her lips part and she moans, eyes locked on me as the sweet fucking sound slips free and finally, her hands drive into my hair. They dig in, her head falling to the wall, eyes clamping closed as her fingers grip what she can of my hair, pushing me into her pussy with all her might.

She starts to shake, every inch of her trembling, and I groan into her, her moans following, quickening by the second.

My pulse accelerates and I tear out of her, shooting to my feet with a growl and hauling her from hers.

She squeals, growls back, but then I slam her into the window again, sliding her up it, and when she’s high enough, she knows what to do, her legs clamp around my shoulders, and I wrap my hands around them, palming her thighs as I dive my face back between her pussy lips.

I don’t suck her clit, I attack it. Beating it with my tongue and lips, and when her entire body locks, her moan so fucking loud there is no way the guards outside miss it, I bite.

She screams, the sound echoing around us, and I feel precum leaking from my cock.

My eyes fly up, locking on her face.

It’s wound tight, a frown along her brow and her teeth sinking into her lip, biting down so hard I spot the little tear of skin there. Slowly, I lower her from my shoulders, but I don’t let her go.

I cradle her to my body, pushing her head against my chest, and she doesn’t fight me.

She goes completely limp, letting me lead her where I may.

This right here, this is the first time I’ve gotten to hold her in my arms.

I’ve waited for this, and when she mumbles, “So much better than in the book,” my chest swells with pride.

I make it to the entrance of our room before I remember why I was so pissed off at her during dinner tonight. My fingers curl a little tighter around her, holding her to me even closer, and I swallow the sigh that threatens to slip when hers fans across my neck.

She only just caved to this impervious pull between us.

It’s too bad I have to go and piss her off again…

Boston

I have no idea if I was just laid onto the bed or if I’m just waking from it. All I know is when my eyes open, the blankets are kicked around my feet and I’m in the center of it, Enzo standing at the edge, staring down at me. My dress is still on, panties too for that matter, but he’s looking at me like he has X-ray vision, as if I’m laid out before him in absolutely nothing, unmistakable yearning burning in his eyes.

My eyes fall to the massive bulge in his slacks, stretching the expensive material to its max, and when there’s a little twitch behind the zipper, my tongue accidently slides across my lips. Instantly, I wince, my finger coming up to dab at my lower one.

“You made yourself bleed,” he tells me. “I’m tempted to punish you for it.”

I say nothing, just stare at those heated eyes.

“You look good in our bed, Little Bride,” he says, an unexpected softness woven in his raspy tone. “I think I got the green right.”

I frown in question, and he motions to the comforter. “Your eyes, they have many shades. I believe I captured them all.”

My heart beats a little harder, so I look away.

He hums, walking over to the far wall. When a flash catches my attention, I look to see he’s turned on the giant fireplace making up several feet in the center of the wall. Even the flames are green, though he changes them to a soft pink, and as he does, the entire room begins to glow with a matching trim, hidden LED lights coming to life and creating the perfect scene. I can imagine lying naked by the fire, a good book in hand, and the buttery blankets draped over my legs…a certain dark hazel-eyed man at my back, toying with my hair before taking it in his fist, if only to whisper the words on the page into my ear. Yes, I can see it now. He would enjoy reading to me, toying with me as he did. I think he would like that.

I know I would like that.

“It’s gorgeous, Enzo,” I have to admit.

“It was designed just for you,” he says, disappearing into the bathroom and coming back with a black silk bag. He steps up to the fire, pressing a button, and the glass casing pulls back. “In fact, most of the rooms in this house were gutted and redone, beginning the day I left you on that island.”

I’m speechless, slowly sitting up in the bed because I have the ridiculous need to see him better. “Why?”

He smiles to himself, eyes locked on the flames. “I was hoping the answer to that would be obvious, but how could it be when your armor only grows thicker.” His attention moves back to me then, and with one single blink, his entire expression changes.

He goes stone-cold. Indifferent. He goes into business mode. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

I’m too dazed, too thrown off by this moment of whiplash to follow, so I simply watch as he unties the small sash on the silk bag, pulling out three small, black compacts, and my heart falls to my feet.

“Enzo—”

“If you think making me believe you’re unable to give me an heir would be enough for me to let you go, you’re wrong.” He speaks with zero emotion, just an underlining sense of certainty. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but there is no escape for you. I am your refuge, your asylum, your home.”

His words sink deep, deeper than I care to admit, but they don’t cut. Not in the slightest.

No, they’re kindling to the dying flame our little rendezvous this evening nearly extinguished, bringing to life the fire that I never should have allowed to be snuffed out, as unintentional as it was.

Just like that, I remember who I am and the situation I’m in, and you know what?

Fuck him.

I climb to my feet, my dress falling back into place along my thighs. He wants to talk. Fine. Let’s see if the heated bastard can handle the cold, hard truth.

“That’s not why I asked for those.”

“Do not lie to me.” Anger blankets his features now and he takes a step forward. “You signed a contract that said you had to give me an heir or I could void the agreement, no questions. I am telling you right now I will not. Baby or no baby. I want you. I will keep you, so I’ll say it again. Do not lie to me. Own it.”

His wrath grows with every word, even more so as he takes in the utter ease in which I stand before him.

So I shrug a careless shoulder, bending my hip to go for total nonchalance. “I’m not lying.”

“No?!”

“Nope.”

“Then why?” he rages.

“You wanna know why, husband?” I lift my brows. “I’ll tell you.”

I move toward him with unhurried steps, noting the way his hands shake at his sides, and I don’t stop until we are toe-to-toe, his head dipped, my neck stretched back.

“I asked her to get me the birth control because I was moved to your bed⁠—”

“Our fucking bed!”

I smile, enjoying this far too much. “Our bed.”

Enzo growls, his lip curling. “That’s not an answer.”

“And I’m not done speaking.”

He clenches his jaw, the vein there tic, tic, ticking away.

“I figured it was only a matter of time once we were in the same bed, so yes, I asked for birth control, but not so I could fuck my husband and pretend to be oh-so sad when a mini him didn’t end up in my belly. I asked for it to protect myself.” His brows dip, gaze roaming over every inch of my face as he tries to work this out and fails. It’s sad, really.

It’s like he said to me, I would have thought the reason would be obvious, but since it isn’t, I do him better than he did me, and spell it out. “There’s no telling how long I’ll be the one wearing your ring, and I’d hate to wake up one day pregnant with your heir, only to find a better version of me has come along.”

Enzo rears back like I slapped him, literally stumbling a bit before he catches himself, and I take slow steps away.

“It’s like I said before.” I continue as if his face isn’t the depiction of disbelief, maybe even…dejection, and I lift a shoulder as if the words that leave me next don’t burn like acid on their way out. “Maybe the next one who offers you whatever you find you’re after will be a redhead, and you’ll get to taste the final color in the wife rainbow.” I quickly spin and head for the bathroom so I don’t have to look at whatever expression may cross his face. “Two down and only one to go.”

“There will be no one but you!” he shouts.

“There already is!” I slam the door and lock it.

And then I fall to the floor, refusing to let the tears come when I hear the clink of something falling, followed by the distinct smell…of burning plastic.