Page 38 of Tempted By the Bosshole

“No.” He takes the box and sets it aside, then lifts my chin until I can’t look at anything but him. “You need to be told how beautiful you are. Then you need to be undressed, touched until you beg, and fucked until you can’t walk right. Let’s get you out of this dress.”

My heart clutches with fear. My traitorous body clenches with thrill. “Nathan…”

“Wife,” he murmurs before he lowers his head and takes my mouth in a deep, dreamy kiss that has my champagne-addled head swimming.

I grip onto him, clinging even though I shouldn’t. But every time he puts his hands on me, I melt. And I crave more.

When he pulls back and nuzzles my neck, I don’t even think. I tilt my head to give him better access.

“Hmm.” His lips drift up my throat and across my jaw while he finds and loosens the corset-back of my dress and begins stripping it away, eventually pushing the sleeves down my arms until the bodice sags around my waist. He turns me to face him and grabs my hands, holding them out wide, then begins examining the skin he’s revealed.

Suddenly, he freezes. “What are these marks on your arms?”

Marks? When I glance to see what has him bent out of shape, I gasp, wholly unprepared for the black-and-blue splotches ringing my biceps. They weren’t there last night. “Bruises.”

I guess when Luna helped me out of my robe and into my dress, she was too polite to mention them. Good thing I chose a dress with long sleeves. Otherwise, everyone would have seen what my ex did to me.

“In the shape of fingers. Who did this to you?” Nathan doesn’t merely sound mad; he’s deadly furious.

“They’re just bruises. They’ll fade. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. No one touches my wife.” His eyes narrow. “Did Eric do this to you?”

“Forget it. I don’t want more problems.” Especially since Nathan looks ready to throw down, and Eric’s father is a big-wig attorney who would probably sue the hell out of my husband for touching a hair on his baby boy’s head.

“Like hell. Tell me who did this. Now. Don’t fucking protect someone who hurt you, baby girl.”

He’s not going to let this go…

“Fine, it was Eric. But he won’t touch me again. I won’t let him.”

“Let’s be clear. I won’t let him. He’ll be hard-pressed to touch his own dick after I break both of his hands.”

“You can’t do that.” I grab the lapels of Nathan’s tuxedo jacket.

“Watch me. I told you; I protect what’s mine. From this day forward, that’s you, wife.”

Then he’s done talking. He slants his mouth over my own, and his tongue makes love to mine in a slow, thorough kiss that decimates my ability to think.

Next thing I know, my dress is puddled on the floor. Nathan lifts me against his body. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around him so I don’t fall as he carries me to the bed, strips away the comforter with a fling of his arm, bounces me onto the mattress, and follows me down, tuxedo and all.

With one hand, he rips away my bra and flings it across the room. With the other, he wraps my underwear in his fist. “What did I say about these?”

Is he serious? “I-I had to wear something under my wedding dress.”

“You didn’t.” He tears the scrap of lace from my hips, ignoring my gasp as he tosses them to the floor. “Fuck, you’re mine now. You’re…everything.”

If I’m tipsy on champagne, he’s drunk on lust. It’s in his eyes. I shouldn’t…but I can’t help the shudder of excitement that seizes me. “I’m nothing.”

The words slip out. Instantly, his face tightens. “Never say that again. Your ex cheated on you and made you feel expendable, right? Interchangeable? No longer important? I’ve been there. But he’s the one who’s insignificant.” He traces the dark bruising on my arms. “He’s the one not worthy of touching you ever again.”

Nathan means every word of that, and for better or worse, I press his words to my heart. “Stop. You’re ruining me.”

“From hating on yourself? Good.” He captures my breast and thumbs my turgid nipple. “Spread your legs, wife. I’ve been waiting forever for this day. Time to make you mine for the rest of our lives.”

I don’t hesitate; I part my thighs under him. “You’ve been waiting to consummate our marriage?”

“Yes,” Nathan groans as he rises just enough to discard his jacket and unzip his fly. Once he’s half undressed, he grips my hips and drives inside me in one powerful thrust. “But not nearly as long as I’ve been waiting to breed you.”

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