Page 86 of Bad Little Bride

More than that, I want my wife to want me the way I long for her, and not just because she’s turned on. But because I’m me and she’s her, and together?

Fuck.

“You were a bad little bride tonight.” My hands slide a little higher, pausing just below what would be her bra line…if she were wearing one. She isn’t, and that thought alone has me turning to steel in my slacks all over again. “In fact, you’ve been bad more than you’ve been good since you got home.”

“This isn’t my?—”

“Careful,” I warn. “Wouldn’t want to piss off your husband when he’s about to make you come.”

“I—” She cuts off. “What?”

“You heard me.” My eyes travel over her collarbone, imagining all of the ways I want to run my tongue across her skin before snapping up to meet her. “You didn’t really think I’d get you worked up and only care for myself, did you?”

She says nothing, but her heavy breathing speaks volumes.

“I’ll count to three, give you time to decide if you want to walk away, but before we start the clock, I should tell you, I saw the page you marked in your latest little love book.”

Her cheeks pinken the prettiest fucking shade, and I lean forward, pressing my lips to her ear. “I memorized everything he did to her…and I want to do it to you, see if you like what you read as much as you think you do.”

Her chest heaves, and as I pull back, I find that gorgeous green is nearly hidden now, dark irises staring back at me.

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and my cock cries in jealousy. I want to take that lip between my teeth and bite, slide my shaft over the welt I’ll leave behind before sliding down her throat and begging to feel those teeth scrape across me as she swallows me deep into that long, delicate neck.

Boston’s gentle hands come up then, latching onto my shoulders, her chin lifting as she pushes on me, but she doesn’t push me away like I thought she might.

No, my bride surprises me in the best possible way when instead of shoving meaway, she shoves medown. I go fucking willingly, mouth watering when my queen says but one word as my knees meet the step, her blonde brow raised high. “Three.”

My entire fucking being tingles, an electric shock-like feeling starting at the base of my skull and zapping down to my feet.

I’m on my knees in front of my wife, and I’m about to make her fuckingscream.

Chapter

Eighteen

Enzo

My mouth waters,my hands vibrating with need and an overwhelming sense of anxiousness.

I’ve thought about the first time I’d get to touch her more times that I can count, imagined hundreds of different ways this would go, and while I did fuck my own hand once to the image of taking her on these very stairs, no fantasy could possibly match the real thing.

My bride staring down at me, panting and trembling with glazed eyes and parted lips…and we haven’t even started yet.

All I’ve done is place my hands on her thighs and her head’s already hit the glass behind it.

“Are you pent up?” I tease, palms sliding higher and taking the hem of her dress with me. “Are you going to come before I even get to touch you with my tongue?”

“You wish it would be that easy,” she rasps, licking her lips, eyes following the path of my hands.

“Wrong. I want to earn my dessert.”

“Then you better hope you can serve a five-course meal first, because if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn in all areas.”

“Don’t worry.” My chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes zeroed in on the curve of her thigh as I choose the very first spot of her I’ll ever kiss. I spot a tiny little scar, the slightest shade different from the rest of her skin, and lock on.Right there.“I won’t leave you hanging. I’ll stay buried between your legs all night if that’s what it takes.” Leaning forward, I press my lips to her heated flesh, groaning at the first contact, and it’s only her fuckingthigh.My tongue slips out and I swipe it across the satin that is her skin, slowly kissing it again before my teeth close over the spot.

Boston hisses, shaking at the feel of my teeth, her hands slamming onto the wall beside her, and I want her to bury them in my hair, yank me closer and ride me until my face is raw and her skin is pebbled with the burn of my stubble.

My palms glide higher and higher, pausing when the tight hem of the dress gets stuck beneath the curve of her ass, so fucking plump the material couldn’t possibly slide over it without a little help.

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