Page 32 of The Casella King

“No, I?—”

He cuts me off. “Your body craves my touch, sweetheart.” His hand rakes through my hair, pulling my head back. “You tell yourself I’m the bad guy, the killer, the mafia king,” he whispers into my ear, raising the hair on my neck. “But I bet your panties were soaked, watching me point my gun at your ex.”

Fuck.

“Because the truth is, you also have darkness within you,” he whispers, and I feel my body melt in slow motion as he licksfrom my collarbone up to my jaw. “You just haven’t embraced it yet.”

“That’s fucked up,” I whisper.

“Is it? Or are you too afraid to admit to yourself that you enjoyed it?” he asks, snaking a hand around my waist, grabbing the material of my dress.

“I didn’t enjoy it.” I try to convince myself more than anything because there was definitely a part of me that did enjoy watching Ray writhe with pain, the same pain he put me through when he abandoned me on what was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives.

“Your mouth says so, but your body says something else.” His jaw tenses as he yanks the material from my body, the satin ripping at the seams, pooling on the floor around my legs, leaving me in just my red G-string.

My heart beats between my legs, aching for him to touch me, and before I can comprehend what I’m doing, my hands fly out to his belt buckle, like an animal, and I tear it off him. He crashes his lips into mine and pushes me into the wall, gripping me in all the right places. His hands roam to my breasts, then to my ass, his lips never once leaving mine. His hand snakes between my thighs, caressing my pussy over my panties, and it feels so fucking good to have him on me.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” he asks, his hand now inside my panties, massaging my clit. A moan slips from my lips as he inserts two fingers inside me, my hands gripping onto his neck as the world slips out from under me.

“So fucking wet for me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his fingers going in deeper.

I grind my hips on his hand, craving the friction. It feels too fucking good to stop now, all my words ring to empty threats now with his fingers inside me.

“It’s our wedding night, baby.” He licks my lips. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t fuck you on our wedding night?”

I groan as I continue to grind on his hand, taking what I want and not looking back. He pulls my head back roughly, fisting my hair.

“I crave the way your body shakes, Aries.” He breathes me in, his lips beneath my ear as he fucks me with his hand. “The way you pant when my fingers are inside you.” His body presses into me, my nipples hardening at the touch. “The way you fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut as the wave of release takes over me, shuddering as I come on his fingers. “The way you taste,” he whispers as he pulls his hand out of me, bringing it to his mouth and licking his two fingers that were just inside of me. My toes curl watching him as I imagine his tongue between my legs.

I know I should run.

Hell, I should have run a long time ago, but my legs don’t work, and I can’t keep lying to myself.

I don’twantto run.

My heart disobeys my mind yet again as my nails dig into his skin, creating a red trail from his chest, down to his abs. I feel his muscles tense as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, grabbing my wrists with force.

“I want to hear you say it,” he speaks, but my mind is still hazy from the orgasm.

“Hmm?” I manage, through hooded eyes.

His hand comes up and closes around my throat, pushing me into the wall. “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.” He squeezes forcefully and my hands fly up to grip his wrist, the air slowly thinning in my windpipe, the haziness now well and truly gone, replaced by pure adrenaline. I try to speak, but nothing comes out as I claw at his wrist, and that’s when I feel his other hand snake into my panties, and something I never thought possible happens next.

It starts to feel good.

He releases the force on my throat slightly, allowing me some air, but doesn’t take his hand away. His eyes grow darker. “Use your words, baby.” His fingers enter me, causing me to rise on my toes, the already sensitive area quickly beginning to send pulses through my body.

“I want you.” My voice comes out in a whisper, barely audible as a smirk curls in the corner of his mouth, his eyes gleaming with a hint of victory.

“Beg,” he says, and my eyes go wide.

His jaw tics as he watches me hesitate.

“Please.” My mouth salivates as his fingers slide out of me, rubbing my arousal over my pussy, the muscles in my legs tensing as his hand flexes over my throat again.

“Beg harder,” he rasps as my nails dig into his wrist, breaking his skin.

My mind flurries as I try to breathe, his hand like a vise around my throat. My vision begins to dim, and just when I think I see stars, he loosens his grip as I gasp for air.

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