Page 31 of Hot-Blooded Killer

At the hotel, Gia doesn’t even look at me as we make our way to the private elevator leading to the penthouse suite I’ve reserved. Whatever else she might be feeling, she’s obviously nervous as hell.

I would never admit it to anyone else—hell, I can barely admit it to myself—but I’m nervous, too.

The elevator requires our room card, and once we step out into the enormous suite, I lock the elevator behind us.

No one will bother us again until I allow it.

Gia pauses, staring out the windows to take in the panoramic view of the Vegas night. “It’s always so beautiful from way up high,” she murmurs.

I move up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, speaking directly into her hair. “It can be beautiful at street-level, too.”

She shrugs. “Sure. But there’s no chance of seeing the dark side of the city from up here.”

Somehow I don’t think she’s talking about Vegas anymore.

I turn her around in my arms and softly kiss her mouth.

She might have been coerced into this marriage by her father, and I might be planning to destroy her before it’s over, but somehow, in this single moment, I want her to be happy about finding herself here, now.

It’s a stupid desire, and I know it. But if I can find a way to make her happy for just this brief instant, perhaps someday I can be redeemed for what I’m planning to do to her before our marriage ends.

I take her hand and draw her to the luxurious bedroom, where I pull her down onto the bed, stretching out beside her until we’re lying face-to-face, my breath fanning the ringlets that have come out of her updo and hang loose around her cheeks.

I reach out and run my fingertips gently along her shoulders, and then back up to cup her cheek in my hand. Leaning in, I press my lips to hers.

To my surprise, as I start to pull away, Gia reaches out with one arm and tugs me closer. “Don’t go,” she whispers, her mouth dancing against mine as she speaks.

Without replying, I simply deepen the kiss, gently slipping my tongue between her lips.

She responds feverishly, her own tongue capturing mine, tangling with it.

I pull her closer to me, her breasts brushing against my chest. With a moan, I bring my fingertips up to flick against her nipples through the fabric of her wedding dress. A tiny noise escapes her throat, and I press into her, my whole body straining toward her.

“Are you ready for your wedding night?” I whisper.

Her blue eyes burn with lust, but she blinks. “I think so,” she replies softly.

“Good.” I stand and pull her to her feet, turning her around to unfasten the row of tiny buttons along the back of the dress. After a long moment, I shake my head. “Are these meant to be impossible to open?”

Gia laughs. “I think they’re supposed to make you slow down and savor the moment.”

With a groan, I unbutton several more, and then give up. “Fuck it,” I say, taking the two sides in my hands and giving them a tug. With a ripping noise, buttons fly off in all directions, and Gia gasps.

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“Believe it,” I growl. “And I’ll do the same to anything else that gets in my way tonight.”

This time, her laugh is slightly breathless, and she glances at me over her shoulder. “Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.” I turn her to face away from me again and deftly unhook the strapless bra she’s wearing underneath the dress. Then I take the whole satiny mess and shove it down to her ankles.

Delicately, she steps out of the dress, hooking it on one toe and kicking it off to one side.

As I rise to stand from where I’m kneeling, I realize she’s wearing only thigh-highs, a garter belt, and a pair of white silk panties.

Just a few scraps of fabric between me and her entire body.

The realization makes my cock stand tall, straining toward her.

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