Page 35 of Wicked Angel

A deal with the devil … had it truly been the right choice?

15

ANGEL

Istood in the bathroom of the bridal shop and shifted restlessly as I washed my hands. The underwear Gaven had given me molded to my pussy and cupped me in a way that made me viscerally aware that I was wearing something a little bit different than usual. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason why they were so heavy by comparison. Whatever it was, it felt like a little bead between my legs, nestled right against my clit, and I had no doubt it was purposeful.

Asshole,I thought to myself. At the same time, a shiver chased down my spine as I shut off the tap, dried my hands, and headed for the exit. Every step reminded me that they were there. I accepted it, though, because in the end, I’d elicited that promise from him. It couldn’t be all that bad—I was attracted to him, after all, and I wasn’t adverse to children. I just … wanted a bit of normalcy too. If he was willing to give me that, then I could conform for now.

Wearing Gaven’s gift as I strode through the bridal shop made me feel deviant, almost as if I were walking naked down a sidewalk. I doubted that others realized just how dominating and possessive Gaven Belmonte truly was. I bet he liked knowing that I was wearing something he'd purchased for me. More than that, I think he liked the idea that it was such anintimatepiece of clothing.

The constant sensation against me made the memory of hispunishmentthat much more prominent when I’d been trying my damned hardest not to think about it.My pussy and nipples were still sore. Maybe another woman would have been cowed, but I couldn’t be. I refused.

"Dear, are you feeling alright?" I stopped in front of the attendant as she frowned my way, examining my face. "You appear quite flushed."

I coughed, my face heating even further. "I'm fine," I lied. "It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" She was an older woman with graying hair at her temples pulled back into a tight bun on her head. Her demeanor made it clear that she'd likely mothered many young women who came into her shop. She didn't hesitate to step forward and lift a hand to lightly touch the top of my forehead.

Behind her, I saw Gaven's smirk as he took us in, and I glared at him as I stepped away from the attendant and nodded. "I swear," I insisted, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

"All right, well, you let me know if you're feeling dizzy. This is a lot to take in, and I hear that you'll be married quite soon," she replied. "Let's hurry and find that dress. The dress of your dreams!"

I marched after her as the attendant flitted forward, glancing back when Gaven withdrew his cell from his pocket as it rang and put it to his ear. Even though he was barking into the phone, his eyes followed me the entire way, making me hyper-aware of every move I made. As if I needed another reason to be so fucking conscious of him.

The attendant—Marie as her name tag read—helped me sort through various dresses. I stood stiffly at her side as we rifled through the backroom racks. She chattered on, looking me up and down as she tried to select dresses—according to her—that would flatter my figure. I didn’t care if it flattered me at all. In fact, if I had my way, I’d wear the most hideous dress known to man as I was forced down the aisle into Gaven Belmonte’s arms.

I wanted other men to pity him for having to marry me. Unfortunately, I knew with him here, that wouldn’t be allowed. I had to pick my battles, and a dress was not one I was willing to waste energy on. Finally, Marie decided on three pieces to take back to the dressing room—one in cream, one in white, and one in off-white lace.

“Alright, you go ahead and try those on,” Marie said as she hooked them on the tops of the dressing room door and the hooks placed around the room. “Give me a call if you need help lacing up and we’ll go from there.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as she left the room and I was alone to face the reality I found myself in.

With a scowl, I grabbed the first dress on the hooks and flopped it across the lounge at the back of the room before I stripped. I shifted uncomfortably at the weird sensation of my new panties but grabbed onto the dress and slipped into it anyway. It was pretty, though slightly plain. Turning this way and that, my head tilted as I eyed the dress in the mirror. The fit felt awkward on my waist and hips, so I quickly stripped out of it and shoved it onto the lounge before reaching for the next.

I was halfway through getting the third dress on after the second one wouldn't even make it up my hips when the doorknob jiggled. Without thinking, I reached up and turned it as I pulled the short straps of the dress up my arms.

"Can you tie the strings at the top, Marie?" I asked, turning away as the door swung slightly inward. My whole body tightened a moment later when masculine fingers brushed against my spine, finding the nearly invisible zipper instead of strings, and pulled it down.

I gasped, jerking my head up, and was caught by a pair of startlingly deep blue eyes as Gaven moved farther into the dressing room and shut the door behind him. "What are you doing in here?" I hissed as the dress slipped off my shoulders. I tried to yank it back up, but his hands gripped the fabric and pulled it back down, right off my arms, until the material was pooled on the floor and I was left before him in nothing except my underwear. "You're not supposed to be in here!"

Rather than answering, he flipped the lock on the door, and my heart began to beat double time. I swallowed roughly. "You can't be in here," I repeated, hoping I sounded stronger than I felt. I lifted my arms and covered my chest, but his eyes sparked with irritation and his hands reached around me, gripping my wrists and pulling them away as he spun me and pushed me back against the mirror.

The cool surface made me shiver and I was forced to crane my neck back to look up at the wicked man pinning me in place. Gaven loomed over me, a hulking mass of male beauty and dangerous intentions. "You're not as traditional as your father, Angel," he said, "but I thought you might like another lesson in what it means to be my fiancée. Tell me something, do you like the present I gave you?"

“No.” The word snapped out of my lips as I narrowed my gaze on him. “I’d like it if you would leave me the hell alone.” My thighs rubbed together as I tried—desperately and in vain—to look at anything in the small, cramped room other than him. His skin was so hot against me, my body felt as though it were being lit on fire. His eyes were like twin orbs of hypnotic ocean and I was viscerally aware that I was bare before him once more.

I knew he’d already seen everything. He’d had his fingers—his entire fist—inside of me, but still, I hated the sensation of his eyes roaming down my naked body. It made me feel hot, out of control. It was ridiculous.

"No?” His voice was tinted with amusement. “I think you'll like it much better after this," Gaven whispered as one of his hands left me and reached into his pocket.

I frowned as he lifted a small remote no longer than my pinky and pressed the black button in the center of it. Immediately, all of the breath in my lungs left my chest as the crotch of my underwear began to vibrate. I arched my spine, confused and utterly stunned, as the buzzing reached my ears.

Gaven smiled as I squirmed under his gaze. I whimpered when he spread my legs and shoved his knee between them, grinding the little rounded bullet that had been expertly hidden within the fabric of my underwear right against my clit.

“Ah!” I cried out and then pressed my lips together, eyes sliding to the door worriedly.

"That’s right, sweetheart," Gaven said, breathing into my ear. "Better be careful how loud you are. You wouldn’t want the nice sales associate to hear you come all over your fiancé’s knee, would you?”

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