Bad Little Bride

Queen Fikile.

I smile, running the pad of my thumb over the clear adhesive protecting the art Mino decorated my skin with. And it is art, a soft, elegant script with the small tip of a tiara curving along the Q. How he managed to do this by hand…with mine moving all around as I’m sure it was, I don’t know. Or maybe I was stiller than I realize.

Don’t see how I could have been, with how they toyed with me.

I shift in the sheets, intentionally searching for the reminder of the delicious ache between my legs, that good kind of sore I didn’t know I wanted.

He marked me. My husband staked a permanent claim. His name is marred into my flesh for life now.

He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t plan for me to be his last and final wife, right?

Katana was just a matter of honor of a man who was raised with none, yet somehow developed it to the upmost extent. He chose to make her his wife to save her life.

But he is choosing me for life.

Right?

I look to the ceiling. Then again, no one knows we’ve made it this far; no one outside of the people who could bury the knowledge without a care to anyone. His people.

My people?

I sigh, tossing off the covers and stretching as I climb from the bed, moving straight for my little espresso machine. My smile blooms at the small warmer, the little dispenser on top brimming with freshly made caramel. Pressing the cappuccino button, I turn to face the window, staring out at the lake a moment.

My coffee is complete, whipped cream poured in under a minute, so I pick up my discarded book and hit the button on the screen of the left wall, a sense of belonging washing over me as the glass disappears, allowing me to step out onto the balcony. I love this room. This house and this view.

I definitely more than like my husband…

My feet freeze on the heated flooring when I spot a familiar item sitting on top of the patio table.

A single black rose.

My heart beats a little harder, a warmth flooding through me at the sight and all but running over, lifting it to my nose. Once again, it’s covered in Enzo’s scent and I take a moment to breathe it in, letting it overwhelm my senses until my lungs can’t hold any more.

I set my book and mug down, planting my ass in the chair and tip the rose upside down, a small charm falling into my palm.

A low laugh leaves me as I draw it closer, running my fingers along the tiny, diamond- encrusted handcuffs. A smirk pulls at my lips, and I sit back, looking up at nothing and picturing moments from yesterday. Including when he woke me in the middle of the night, sliding into me from behind and fucking me to the rhythm of summer waves.

I’m pretty sure I’m as addicted to him as he is me, and I find I’m not mad about that. This marriage has turned into more than I thought he would give me, and he’s offered more than I would have thought him capable.

I knew I’d be safe with the founder and CEO of the nation’s top security firm as my husband, having bet on his need for me to be alive while he waited to be given all the things he wanted out of our contractual marriage, but I never expected that safety to come with tenderness, maybe not even desire. I assumed sex would be required, and after meeting him face-to-face, decided it wouldn’t be a hardship of any kind—I’d use him for my own pleasure the way he was going to use me for power.

What I anticipated and what I’ve gotten couldn’t be more different.

He couldn’t be more different.

There’s passion in his touch, a raw reverence he never tries to hide but rather goes out of his way to ensure I feel it in every part of my being. His yearning for me. His need. And not just for my body or what he sees on the outside, but the girl within. The one who was never good enough to everyone else.

That girl, she means a lot to him.

I mean a lot to him.

A fluttering tickles low in my stomach and I lift my feet up on the chair, dropping my chin to my knees, a soft smile I don’t fight written along my lips.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, but my coffee is long since empty and I’ve reached the epilogue in the story by the time Grandma appears in the room.

“Did you enjoy your morning, Miss Revenaw?” she asks.

I nod, unfolding my legs from the chair and pulling my robe a little tighter, so my breasts don’t pop out.

“Good. We have a very busy day ahead. I’ve had your breakfast delivered. Can you be ready by ten, it’s nearly nine now?”

“I can.” I eye her warily, a strange sort of excitement curling her features. “Why?”

“As I said. Busy, busy day.”

“Grandma.” I tip my head. “Are you trying not to smile?”

“No, dear. I don’t smile.”

I scoff, and just before she turns away…she smiles.

Now I’m really concerned.

I hear them before I see them and my feet move quicker along the stairs. It’s not until I’m rounding the last curve that familiar blonde hair comes into view.

Rocklin whips around, a smile on her lips as she cocks her hip out. “About damn time. He’s literally holding us hostage in the foyer.”

Bronx nods, what looks to be a mimosa in her right hand…the bottle of champagne hanging from her left.

“I quite like the view from here.” Delta smiles, taking in the architecture and gliding along the floor, trying to get closer to the window leading to the back.

My confusion must show, not only in the fact that I’m frozen in place, but on my face as my sister’s sass turns to a scowl.

She takes a step toward me, but then Enzo comes around the corner, beating her. My eyes lock onto his, the golden hue shinning brighter today in his dark purple suit.

“Little Bride,” he murmurs, not stopping until he’s on the step before me, yet still I have to tilt my head the slightest bit to hold his gaze. “You look good enough to eat, as always.”

“Why are they here?” I whisper, not realizing my palms found their way to his chest until he closes his fist around my wrist, drawing my left hand to his lips.

With his eyes on me, he kisses the spot just over the tattoo, his eyes blazing with a fiery need that sparks heat in my core.

“I love you,” he whispers only for me. “Did you know that?” His words are so calm, so clear.

And a complete shock to the system.

I tense so hard a shiver runs through me, refiring my nerves all at once and without warning.

My stomach flips, a trembling sensation I can’t quite explain taking over until it’s spreading across every limb.

Butterflies and tiny tingles. That’s what the feeling is.

“I…” I swallow back the lump in my throat, eyes wide and locked on his. “No. I did not.”

He hums lightly, a small smile gracing his lips as he leans in. My chin tips, meeting his lips in a ghost of a kiss before he shifts, creating a fiery path along my jaw on their way to my ear.

My eyes close, fists clenching over his tie as his warm breath fans across my skin.

“Well, now you do,” he rasps. “There is no one I need more. No one I trust as completely. It’s you and me, baby. Through the fires of hell, I will stand by your side. Always.”

His words break past barriers, clawing at my defenses and shredding them piece by piece until there’s nothing left but him and me and this moment.

Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I don’t realize he’s pulled back until the pad of his thumb slides along my lower lip. My eyes peel open with effort, and the look in his nearly has my knees buckling.

It’s all right there in his steady gaze, the truth to his words.

He means every one; I can feel it deep in my bones.

Maybe even in my soul.

Me and him.

Fires of hell.

Always.

I’m not his temporary wife. There will be none after me, and the before doesn’t even fucking matter because I too hold the same trust. In him. In us.

Yes, I realize suddenly. I did know he loves me.

Always a Fikile…

“Enzo…”

“Go on,” he whispers, but his hold on me tightens rather than letting go.

My stunned expression finally washes away, and a smile I can’t hold back takes over. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him hard and fierce, my tongue forcing its way through his lips, and I don’t stop. I hop up, and he catches me, pressing me to the wall as his dick hardens between us.

I want to go back upstairs, get naked and sweaty and bent over the balcony, but a throat clears, and he growls his annoyance, making me chuckle against his lips.

Slowly, he backs up, but he doesn’t set me down. He carries me the final steps, only lowering me when we’ve reached the back door, the girls all standing around impatiently waiting for me. For what, I don’t know.

Grandma stands between the two double doors, hands folded in front of her, also waiting not so patiently.

A frown pulls at my lips, and when she looks up over my head, assumingly at Enzo, he must give her the go-ahead as in the next moment, she spins, pushing the doors open with one quick swoop.

Someone catches each one from the outside, holding them open, and the girls whistle as they walk out.

Not me, though.

I’m stuck where I stand, mouth open and a deep coiling twisting low in my stomach.

Rocklin, Bronx, and Delta all disappear, but I just stand there, blinking.

Enzo wraps his arms around me from behind, but I still don’t move, don’t look away.

“You’re not going to accomplish much by standing here, wife.”

“What…”

Rather than turning my body to face his, he comes to stand in front of me, pulling my hair over my shoulders and rubbing a thick curl between his fingers. He tips his head. “I took something from you and it’s time I give it back. It’s time the world knows what I’ve known for a long time.”

“That you’re mine,” I breathe, the thought leaving me before I even realize I’ve thought it at all.

His eyes flare, possessiveness rolling off him in waves at my words. “Exactly. Time to show them all there is no me without you, no you without me. We are Fikiles. Now, get out there. Pick a dress. A flower. A cake. Pick them all for all I fucking care.”

My body starts to tremble, an electric energy coursing through me instantly, making my heart pound with excitement. “A wedding.”

“Our wedding. Tomorrow.”

I squeal, then freeze, eyes going wide. “Tomorrow?!”

Enzo chuckles, swatting my ass. “Better hurry, Little Bride. The clock is ticking, and I’m done waiting.”

My teeth sink into my inner cheek, and I surge onto my toes, pressing a hard kiss to his lips.

“Go.”

I go, but just as I’m about to cross the threshold, a thought occurs to me then and I spin around. “Where’s Katana?”

He watches me closely, then drops his chin an inch, shame I’ve never seen him wear weighing down his expression. “She will never overshadow you in any way ever again.”

My pulse pounds a little harder, the part of me where love is supposed to live opening up a little more.

My smile is soft as I hold his stare. “Will you ask someone to send her down for me?”

“Baby—” He shakes his head.

I hold my hand up. “She’s all alone in all this. We’re all she has.”

Enzo’s eyes bore into mine, and I know without a doubt he wants to throw me over his shoulder right now and haul me out of here.

Later, dear husband.

“You’re more than I deserve,” he rasps.

“And you’re everything I ever wanted.”

He charges me instantly, and I scream, barely dodging his grasp as I run out the door.

Only when I’m down the steps, officially entering into the wonderland he has set up outside for me, do I spin around to smile.

His hands are curled around the frame above his head, eyes locked on mine. I follow the length of his arms, strong and stretching his suit just right, the cut of his biceps visible through the thick material and the broad curve of his shoulders. That vein that runs down his neck. My mark. Subconsciously, my thumb rubs along the underside of my ring finger, my tongue sliding out to wet my lips.

His lips curve up oh-so slowly. Purposefully. He knows he’s got me.

I take a single step…and Grandma slides in front of me, gray brow raised high.

“There will be plenty of time for that. Turn around, dear. We’re making magic happen and to do so, I need to know whose heads must roll.”

On cue, Rocklin slides up, bumping her hip to mine, a black gown in her hands. “Can I wear this?”

“Is there more alcohol?!” Bronx shouts.

“Katana! You’ve joined us,” Delta says.

I sidestep them all, looking toward my man, only to find he’s no longer there and the doors have been closed.

I pull in a lungful of air and turn toward my sister, taking the dress from her hands. “We’re doing things a little differently.”

Bronx wiggles her brows.

Delta smiles demurely.

Katana squeals, and my sister?

My sister narrows her eyes, a knowing spark flickering within them. “I take it you and your husband-to-be have gotten to know each other better since the last time we talked?”

I smirk, spinning on my heel and leading them where I wish for them to go. “You have no idea.”

“He canceled the contract.”

I jerk to a stop, head yanking to the left to meet her stare.

She gives nothing away, face set still like the stone princess she’s trained to be as she does all she can to dig as deep as possible with a simple look that’s not so simple at all. “You didn’t know,” she decides, stepping closer. “Why did he cancel the contract?”

“I don’t know.” My voice comes out scratchy. A little unsure.

Her eyes narrow. “Do you love him?”

My lips flatten and her brows shoot up. “Oh my god. He loves you.”

I bristle, anger bubbling up, then I’m rounding on her. “Why sound so surprised?”

“Because you met with a man who wanted to murder your father and asked him to marry you. No fucking duh, I’m surprised.” Her glare holds a long moment, then a smile spreads across her face, and she throws herself at me, her head tossed back as she laughs. “Fuck, I thought Bastian was going to have to kill him tomorrow at the reception, had it all planned out, just in case, and everything. This is so much better!”

I gape at her, and her grin widens. Just like that, she turns to her best friends and starts searching through the racks of gowns once more, like she didn’t just tell me they were planning to murder my man at my own wedding.

Not that they’d get that far.

Not that I would let them if they tried.

My eyes lift, sliding to the left, and there he is, standing on the balcony of the second floor, staring right at me. It’s like there’s nothing between us, not a few hundred yards or two stories, or these guests.

No secrets.

No lies.

No contract.

But there is one thing that threatens our future, and we just can’t have that now, can we?

Enzo’s eyes narrow, his hands wrapping around the railing, and I offer him a small, bratty wave.

“Don’t worry, dear husband,” I mumble to myself.

This one’s on me…