Page 113 of Broken Souls
“You can’t just add to the list!”
“Why not? You’re already mad at me; it won’t change anything.”
“You – you fucking neanderthal!” I sputter.
“Dayne is to arrive later this evening,” he says, his eyes calculating as he ignores my protests completely. “Lou isn’t supposed to get here for another two days, but I’m sure your father –”
“Dayne’s coming?”
He nods. “He should be here in an hour or so.”
I grit my teeth, not wanting to show him how happy I am over that. But fuck, can I use a drink and a long ass talk with my bestie. Except I can’t drink because I’m fucking pregnant. Dammit.
“I’ll need to invite my capos and Aleric so no one thinks they’re being disrespected, but with Talon dead, they’ll want to talk to me anyways.” He nods. “They’ll come.”
“Well, I’m still not fucking you tomorrow,” I snap.
“We’ll need to consummate the marriage.”
“Then you’ll have to rape me.”
His eyes grow heated. “I was out of control then, Micha, and I am sorry for not listening to you. But when I fuck you tomorrow, it’ll be because you begged me for it.”
My jaw clenches at the same time my pussy does.
His nostrils flare as his eyes dip low, and I am suddenly aware that he can smell my arousal. My cheeks heat as his gaze turns hot and heavy.
“Shall we see if I can get you to beg now?” he murmurs as he lifts his eyes to mine.
“Don’t you fucking touch me.”
His fingers dig into my hips as he steps back, and my legs drop from around his waist. He sets me on the floor, then places his palms flat on the wall as he leans his head down to mine. My heart hammers as he stares at me with so much wicked heat.
With a hard swallow, I yank my gaze away and stare at his chest instead.
“After we marry, Micha,” he says, his voice a deep purr, “I will not take you upstairs unless you ask me to. I will not touch you outside of the first dance. But I will be by your side the entire time, thinking about the feel of your pussy around my cock, how you’ll taste on my tongue when you ride my face until you come.”
I swallow hard, trying my damnedest to keep the blush off my cheeks.
“You’ll look at me, and I’ll get so fucking hard imagining what those lips can do. What orders they will give me as I’m begging you to let me fuck you.”
I can’t help it. As the image of him tied and bound for my pleasure fills my mind, I swallow hard. His eyes track the movement of my neck, and he makes a noise that causes me to shiver.
Lifting his gaze back to mine, he murmurs, “Will you place my cock inside a chastity cage and make me kneel between your legs, licking and finger fucking you until morning while never giving me the command to touch myself? Will you tie me to the bed with a witch’s snare and hover your pussy right over my face as you fuck yourself with a toy, torturing me with the teasing drops of your cum as I beg for you to let me taste you? Just one fucking lick.” He groans. “Just give me one lick, baby.”
My lips part as I press my back hard against the wall to try to increase the distance between us. My every nerve is aware of how close he is to me, how if I just rock my hips forward the slightest inch, I can feel the hard, pulsing length of his cock. If I tilt my head up, I can taste his lips. I tremble beneath the images he is feeding me, and my breaths come out on harsh, shallow pants.
“And when you finally allow me the pleasure of taking you up to our room, I still will not touch you. I will walk behind you so everyone knows that I am yours just as much as you are mine.”
I kegel on a deep-throated moan.
“But know that I will be watching your ass as I imagine burying my face in it. How I can press you against a wall, bunch up the skirt of your dress, and trail my tongue from my lips to your ass…”
His voice trails off, and I know he’s imagining it now. I can hear the strain in his voice, feel the pulse of his cock even though it’s not touching me. But it’s just right there, not even an inch away from my body.
“Gods, I love the taste of you,” he groans as he shudders. And seeing him this tense has my hips rocking forward so I can feel just the barest touch of his tip.
He groans again, and the muscles in front of me flex hard as he struggles to keep his hands off me. “Fuck, Micha,” he growls.
