Page 34 of Princes of Carnage

I swap out the needle and get fresh ink, and by the time I’m ready to use the tattoo gun, Nico has unbuttoned his jacket and shirt halfway, baring his chest. He already has some ink, a dark design that crawls up his right shoulder and across part of his chest, but the space above his heart is blank, so I decide to put my ring there.

It’s surprising, the vicious flare of pleasure that I feel at getting to tattoo him. He might have gotten to mark me, but I’m getting to mark him right back.

I press harder than necessary with the needle, but even so, my work isn’t shoddy. Nico doesn’t flinch at all, just watching me as I carefully etch the ring into his skin. I use the same basic design that he did, but I add a little extra flourish to it, unable to help myself.

When the tattooed ‘rings’ have been exchanged, one of his men comes and takes the machine out of my hand, and we turn to face the priest again.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Michigan, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest intones. “You may kiss the bride.”

Nico grins and leans in, and I don’t really have a choice but to lean in as well. He gets so close to me, close enough that my senses are filled with the spicy scent of him and the feeling of the heat from his body. Just before our mouths meet, he speaks, his voice a low rumble as his breath teases my skin.

“You can bite me this time too if you want, mia cara. I like it.”

Then his lips meet mine.

12

QUINN

I don’t bite him this time.

I’m tempted to, I’m really fucking tempted to. To clamp my teeth around his bottom lip and draw blood all over again, and then maybe spit it in his face. But his words are still heavy in my ears. He’ll probably just enjoy it too much, and I don’t want that. I don’t want him to enjoy this any more than I am.

Which is to say, not at all.

So I hold myself stiffly while our lips press together. He makes a small noise in his throat and leans in a bit more, his mouth warm and firm against mine. I don’t give him anything back, staying stiff as a board, unyielding. But then he nips at my bottom lip, hard enough that it stings, and that sends a jolt of arousal through me that I can’t ignore.

My lips part all on their own in a soft gasp, and that’s all the opening Nico needs to slide his tongue into my mouth.

My body burns, half with outrage at his fucking audacity and half with something I don’t want to name.

And Nico presses his advantage so well. He works his tongue into my mouth, kissing harder, deeper. Like he wants to coax my tongue into twining and twisting with his in some kind of fucked up dance. My eyes fall closed, and I lean into it for just a second, just enough to get that heady rush of sensation for a moment, before clarity comes roaring back in.

We break apart a few heartbeats later, and I have to swallow hard once and then again.

Nico smirks at me, his dual colored eyes dark with desire that he doesn’t make any attempt to hide.

“Look at that,” he says, his voice a little husky. “I like to bite too.”

I ignore his words, because it’s easier to do that than to figure out how the fuck to respond. I take a deep breath, trying to pull my shit together and get my head back on straight. It would be bad if Nico could see how much that simple kiss affected me. We’re about to be on shaky ground as it is, trying to navigate this strange new world where old rivals are now allies, and it’ll be easier for me to keep an edge against him if he doesn’t know how off-balance he makes me feel.

Around us, there’s a light smattering of applause as the priest calls the ceremony to a close. Everyone is playing their part, but it’s clear that no one in our respective gangs is really all that thrilled about any of this. And who could blame them? It’s a barely passable facade of a wedding. No one wants to be here, except the groom for some fucked up reason, and everyone except the priest is probably armed under all their finery.

I know I am.

It would be stupid for the Princes to wait until Nico and I are officially married to decide to pull something, but still. Stranger, more fucked up things have happened, and I’m not taking any of this lightly or letting my guard down around them for the foreseeable future.

The priest gestures for us to walk down the aisle, and this is the part in a real wedding where the gathered family and friends would clap and cheer and throw rice or confetti. Instead, we make our way down the carpeted aisle in near silence. Everyone on my side watches Nico—and Atlas and Killian, who walk along behind us—with wary gazes, waiting to see what he’ll do. The crew on the Carnage side watches me with the same intensity.

A few more steps bring us out of the main part of the church, and we come to a stop in the open space of the front lobby. It would almost be a relief to have it all done… except now I’m married to Nico.

I turn to face him and his two best friends, who are standing on either side of him so that they create an almost solid wall of muscle. None of them move to say anything, so I give them a cool smile, ready to go home and get this goddamn dress off.

“Well,” I say. “At least that’s over.”

“Oh, come on.” Nico chuckles. “It wasn’t so bad. I think you might have even liked it by the end there.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” I snap, my veneer of civility slipping. “The whole thing was an act, and we both know it.”

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