Page 40 of Wicked King

“Yes… no.” I cross my arms over my chest and stiffen my jaw. “I would just prefer you not touch me at all.”

“That’s going to make our wedding night rather challenging.”

My heart catapults at my ribcage.

“But there’s nothing I like more than a challenge.” He shoots me a wink before plopping down on my couch.

With his shirt off, the exasperating male is all tanned skin and rippling abs stretched across the new sofa he forced me to buy. My traitorous gaze traces the dips and valleys of his torso before focusing on the Chinese dragon imprinted across his flesh. The riot of colors is mesmerizing, the artwork truly beautiful. It has nothing to do with the half-naked male beneath the design.

“You know,” he whispers, the jagged edge to his tone drawing my attention away from his chest, “maybe we should give it a go before the big day. It could take some of the pressure off and release some tension…”

“Absolutely not,” I snap and whirl around toward the kitchenette so I can put some much-needed space between myself and my future husband. I cringe at the word even in my head.

Reaching for a mug from the top cabinet, I stretch up, but a big hand beats me to it. Marco looms over me, holding my I wear heels bigger than your d*ck mug and grinning like an idiot. “Oh, yeah?”

“Shut up. Ari gave it to me as a joke.” A huge joke since I could count the number of dicks I’d seen on one hand.

“I bet my cock is bigger.”

Heat races across my cheeks as vivid memories of the sharp outline of his erection the first time he spent the night parade across my vision.

He chuckles. “And I dare say, you may agree.”

“I never said that. I’ve never seen—” I smush my lips closed.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you got a nice peek the other night.”

I raise my hand and squeeze my eyes closed. “Just stop!” God, please just make this stop.

Marco pours the hot coffee I had the surprising presence of mind to automatically prepare last night, and I eye the enticing beverage like a starving woman. He holds the mug just out of reach, smirking like a fool.

“Give me my coffee.”

“I’ll give it to you for a kiss.”

I snort on a laugh, the request so ridiculous I can’t even hide the surprise. “What are you, fifteen?”

Marco drops the cup on the counter and whirls on me. The move is so fast I don’t have a second to react. His hand curls around my neck, and he spins me so that I’m trapped against the counter. With his nose less than a centimeter from my own, his frosty breath dances across my lips.

My breath hitches, my chest rising and falling beneath his dark gaze as his fingers tighten around my throat. “Let’s get something straight, spitfire. I like to joke, I enjoy the teasing, but ultimately, you are mine. I will have you in every way possible. If you want to wait for our wedding night, fine, but don’t think for a minute because I treat you kindly and play around that I’m not a man to fear. I don’t want to be that man with you, but I will be if you do not obey me. Are we clear?”

I grit my teeth, but my head bobs up and down regardless as I curse myself for not always keeping the gun I forced Marco to get me nearby. I have zero qualms about using it on my future husband. In fact, I plan to keep it under my pillow for the length of our marriage. However short-lived it may be.

“Crystal clear,” I rasp. Then I reach for the mug where it now rests behind my back and toss the scalding coffee at my fiancé.

He leaps back, releasing me, and lets out a curse as the hot liquid dribbles down his bare chest. Those eyes turn murderous.

“Baobèi, is everything all right?” My grandfather shuffles around the wall that separates the bedroom from the rest of the studio.

“Just fine, Yéye. As it turns out, my fiancé is a bit clumsy in the morning and spilled some coffee on himself.” I reach for a paper towel on the counter and dab it across Marco’s chest. The erratic pounding of his heart vibrates through the thin sheet, and I dab only a few more times before making a hasty retreat toward my grandfather.

“Mr. Rossi, are you in need of any assistance?” Yéye watches Marco from across the small space.

“No, I’m just fine,” he grits out before he storms by and disappears into the bathroom. The sharp crack of the door slamming sends my heart jumping up my throat.

“Baobèi…” My grandfather slants me a look.

“What?” I return one of pure innocence.

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