Page 42 of Scandalous Kingpin
But I was aware of only one set.
The sun’s rays shone through the stained-glass windows and stopped before his feet, leaving him swathed in shadows that he alone seemed to rule.
I struggled to breathe as he watched me walk toward him, pure bliss flowing through my veins. This—us—hadn’t started in a conventional way, but I couldn’t help feeling like it waseverything I wanted and needed. We had all the time in the world to learn about each other, and I was choosing to see the promise in today.
I reached him and he rasped, “All mine, angel.”
We stood face-to-face, the priest reciting our vows. I tried to give the white-haired man with kind eyes my full attention, feeling myself flush under Priest’s gaze.
The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur: Christian making minor corrections to our vows, rolling his hand to gesture for the priest to wrap up the proclamations of good versus evil, and then repeating our lines and uttering ourI dos. Finally, it was time to exchange rings.
A rumble of satisfaction traveled up his throat as he slid a ring on my finger, marking me as his. “You like it?” he asked, brushing a thumb across my cheek.
I blushed again under the intensity of his gaze, the tenderness of his touch. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I whispered, “It’s perfect.”
It was a white gold Claddagh ring with an emerald crown that marked my heritage and some of his, although I suspected he only picked it because it was front and center on my Pinterest page.
“You may kiss the bride,” came a raspy voice.
My heart stilled.
We had yet to share a kiss. The only time we’d been intimate, Christian’s lips were nowhere near my face as he savagely devoured me in a dark hallway.
I held my breath as his strong, rough palms cupped my face. A violent, stormy blue swirled among the clouds as he leaned closer.
One breath… two… three… and his lips brushed against the corner of my lips. The touch was light as a feather, the disappointment heavy.
The crowd stood in unison, clapping and cheering, while I tried to understand what just happened.
Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?
Chapter Twenty
PRIEST
When the ordeal was over, I took Ivy’s hand in mine and we moved outside to the garden where a long banquet table was set up, its centerpiece a large fountain adorned with angels.
“Why did you two decide to have your reception in the church garden?” Juliette, my sister-in-law, asked.
Ivy just shrugged and I almost groaned. I didn’t have to wonder why she stood stiffly next to me, not even looking my way, pretending I wasn’t here.
I. Fucked. Up.
I should have pushed past my reflex and sealed my mouth to hers.
She was the first woman I ever willingly touched. Sure, I’d had women, but the idea of intimacy always stirred nightmares and a cold sweat beneath my skin. So, until my encounter with Ivy, I’d usually let women get down on their knees and suck me off and then be on their merry way. After all, I was a sinner, never a saint.
Ivy had been the first to make me forget my aversion and bring me to my literal knees.
The moment I’d spotted her in my club, I recognized her from the little heist she and her friends performed in Chicago. The girls royally fucked up when they decided to dump medical-grade essential oil all over my brother’s Royally Lucky casino, their diversion tactics doing little else than cause a shit storm that would take weeks to set right and make it so that I could never smell lavender without seeing red again. I’d studied the surveillance footage enough to have memorized Ivy Murphy’s every feature.
So, I decided to teach her a lesson. I didn’t expect to enjoy touching her or to become fucking obsessed at the tender age of twenty-five. For almost two years, I’d been stalking and fantasizing about this woman, unable to move on. One taste of her and I got addicted.
“You two are acting weird,” Juliette muttered as we all sat down, her eyes on Ivy and myself.
My sister-in-law hadn’t been the same since Ivy’s father’s death. Dante mentioned she’d been experiencing depression episodes after each visit with her friends. He recommended avoiding them, which would be a feat in itself, considering how close the girls were. Obviously, Juliette refused, claiming she deserved any and all punishment. She wanted to stand by her friends, no matter what.
It was a commendable decision, but probably unwise.
