Page 96 of Wicked King

When I bring it up to my shoulder, Marco’s hand wraps around my wrist. His wedding band shifts, calling my attention to the white line beneath. There’s something about the new tan line that offers a sense of permanence and brings an unexpected smile to my face.

“I think there are safer ways to make this statement.” His fingers find the top button of the sheer red blouse, and he slowly undoes the first button. “First, remove the garment before cutting the sleeves.” His eyes raze over me, each move deliberate as he works his way down my top. “I think it’s very brave what you’re doing, Jia, and if you’d like, I can help you destroy every single one of your creations once I’m certain there’s no bloodshed involved. But I don’t believe that’s going to take away the pain…”

The final button comes loose, and Marco drags the blouse down over my shoulders. Bit by bit, my arms are exposed, the dozens of pale white marks crisscrossing my flesh unearthed.

His gaze turns feral as he focuses on the swell of my breasts. The lace bra leaves nothing to the imagination. Clearing his throat, he draws in a breath and fixes those enigmatic eyes to mine. His fingers trap my chin, holding my gaze steady. “Jia, your beauty is so overpowering that even if your entire body were riddled with scars, they would pale in comparison to your inner radiance. Your fierce spirit, your pure heart, your unyielding determination—these qualities draw others to you. They are what captivated me from the beginning. Embrace your scars proudly, because they have molded you into the remarkable woman you are today.”

Tears fill my eyes and one escapes, then another and another.

“I am so proud of you, spitfire.” He kisses each fallen tear. “You are quite literally perfect, which was why I chose that song for our wedding day. I was listening to the wise words of Ed Sheeran the first time I laid eyes on you in your boutique all those weeks ago. When the wedding planner asked me about our first dance, it seemed the most obvious choice.”

Those damned tears threaten again, and I barely bite back the sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Why did I waste all this time despising this man? The perfect man for me.

He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the right time then.”

His mouth captures mine once again, and the pain of the past morphs into something else with each tender touch. His mouth moves from my cheek, across my jaw and down my neck. When he finds my breasts, I arch into him as his tongue swirls around my nipple. As he continues to devour me, his hands cup my ass and lift, spinning me around so I’m sitting atop the drafting table.

“Another first, spitfire.” A sinful gaze darkens his features.

“Here?” I blurt.

He nods slowly, unbuckling his belt before dragging down his zipper. His pants and boxers slough to the floor in one swift move. His cock stands eager between us, a bead of cum already glistening on the tip.

His hands wrap around my thighs and jerk me to the edge of the table, then he slides them beneath my skirt. Anticipation has heat flaring between my legs before his fingers find my center.

“Mmm, good girl, no panties.”

“You’ve torn through so many I figured it was becoming terribly wasteful.”

“That is true.” Pushing the skirt up to my waist, he takes me in, those piercing irises swallowing me whole.

I hazard a quick peak over my shoulder at the glass walls that make up the front of the boutique. If anyone passes by and glances in this direction, they’ll get a front row view. Not to mention the possibility that Ari and Nicky could come back quicker than expected. I open my mouth to voice my concerns, but Marco’s hungry mouth swallows all objections.

His thumb is at my clit a moment later, and I’m already too far gone to object. “That’s my good girl, already drenched and ready to take my cock like an obedient wife.”

I snort on a laugh. “Obedient, really?”

“Okay, more like obstinate wife?”

“That sounds more like me.”

He dips a finger inside me, and my head falls back, a groan escaping. I’ve forgotten all about the passersby or unexpected guests. All I can focus on is Marco and the heated sensations lashing through my body. My hips rise to meet the thrusts of his fingers, eager for more.

“I want you inside me. Now.”

“What a bossy little wife.”

“Just fuck me already, Marco.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He positions his throbbing head at my entrance, and every nerve-ending riots at the feel of him. He pushes into me without restraint, filling me so fully another groan peals out.

“Oh, Marco…”

“That’s right, spitfire, I’ve got you.” Thrust. “I’ll always be with you, always stand beside you.” Thrust. “No one will ever hurt you again now that I’m here.” Thrust. Fiery heat builds into a scorching inferno each time he sinks deeper inside me.

“I know,” I murmur.

“Good.” He captures my lips as he drives into me, faster, harder. “I want you to come for me, spitfire. Tell me that I’m the only man for you, the only man that has ever made you feel like this.”

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