Page 68 of Malicious Wedding

His attention, pure and unfiltered.

His raw want.

He leaves for work, but not before performing his duties: my legs spread, his tongue lapping my clit in slow circles.

It’s bizarre how fast I’m getting used to him.

I’m a half-hour late to Smoke. “You slept in or something?” Bernie asks with a little gleam in her eye. “You have trouble getting to bed again?”

“No trouble gettingintobed,” I mutter. “Trouble getting back out though.”

“Look at you. Humping like rabbits. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were starting to like your husband.”

I touch the ring on my finger. “Don’t be silly. I despise guys like him.” I say the words, but they don’t have feeling anymore.

Where once I’d recoil at the idea oflikingCarson, it doesn’t seem so strange now.

How could I not love the way he touches me? The way he listens? The way he’s deeply in tune with my wants?

Bernie nudges me. “Right, it must be so hard to have a husband that clearly adores you, has endless money, and oh, yeah, is really freaking hot.”

“What happened to you being worried about me?”

She shrugs. “I still am, but you seem happy. It’s new.”

“I’ve been happy.” I scowl at her.

“Yeah, maybe once or twice. But ever since you got hitched, the last few days have been… good. You’ve been smiling a lot more. You’re lighter than I’ve ever seen you.”

I grimace slightly, looking away. Guilt hits me all over again. I shouldn’t be happy, considering my brother’s lying in the hospital and my family’s been murdered.

But Bernie’s right. I’ve been happy despite myself.

“There’s just something about him,” I say without elaborating, because how can I explain to her that he’s a total freak and I’m actually into it?

“Right, like money.” She laughs at my reaction. “Relax, I’m only teasing you.”

Before I can fight her on it, the door opens as a fleet of delivery people arrive. Bernie begins directing them around as boxes appear, dozens of boxes filled with new stemware, plates, candles for the tables, a whole bunch of little extra decorations we never needed or wanted before.

Once that’s all done, I stand in a sea of deliveries, staring at the stuff like I have no clue what to do with it.

“I might’ve gone overboard,” Bernie admits. “And paid for rush.”

“Carson paid for rush.” I sigh, poking through some new serving dishes. “These are nice though.”

“Really nice. Like the highest-end stuff they had.”

“I’m not going to ask how much it cost, I really don’t want to know.”

“Good because I honestly wasn’t keeping track.”

We get to work unpacking what we can and carrying the rest back into storage. My office gets stuffed to the point where I can’t even squeeze inside anymore, which is going to be a problem sooner or later, but we’ll manage. Keely and Jamila show up not long later, excited over all the new stuff, followed by Fulco.

“Plates,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes. “Dishes. Silverware. All new.”

“Do you like it?” Bernie asks, sounding genuinely worried.

“It will do.” He disappears into the kitchen.

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