Page 55 of Crave

“It’s her wedding, woman,” Marcus said amiably. “Lady Christina, take as much as you want.”

“Awwww, such a beautiful bride.” Lee Anna smiled at me, her eyes glazed.

Nick grinned. Behind him, Eddie lay peacefully in the grass. “Where’s your happy husband?” His eyes flicked over my shoulder. “Oh, hey, bro.”

A hand descended on my shoulder — Patrick’s. Staring at the scene, he palmed his forehead.

“Jesus Christ, Mom.”

Everyone burst into laughter, and even I began to giggle as the weed started to kick in. But Patrick noticeably tensed, and when no one else was looking, I saw him shoot me an icy look.

Sudden panic arose in my chest.Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Then his palm engulfed mine. His blue eyes warmed, and a menacing grin tugged at his mouth.

He leaned down towards my ear.

“Soon,” he whispered.

Now it was my turn to tense. Everywhere, from the goosebumps on my neck to the flexing of my calves. My belly clenched. I wanted what Patrick had to give, but I was so far from that headspace right now.

Would I be able to let go?

Would I be able to handle the wolf?

Somehow, Patrick and I got back inside. We cut the wedding cake, we fed each other the sweet crumbs and sugary frosting. We danced, we talked and laughed with our guests. If anyone was still fighting, they seemed to have put their arguments aside for now.

We left for the hotel amidst yells and cheers. Alexis cupped her hands to her mouth and called “Make some good loving!”

Part II: The Wolf

Patrick

When we arrived at our hotel room, I swung Christina up into my arms, unlocked the door, and carried her inside. She laughed, clinging to my neck. She was a sweet armful, but I could barely feel her through all the layers of satin.

The room had everything Christina asked for: champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, a big bouquet of red roses on the dresser.

She smiled up at me. She was still impeccably made up, her hair falling in loose curls over her bare shoulders. I got an image of ruining her gorgeous hairdo, smearing her makeup, ripping her sparkling dress from her body.

“We’re really married,” she whispered.

“Mm-hm.” I gently squeezed the back of her neck.

I’d been leery of marriage for a long time. Of the ritualized commitment. My parents’ marriage had imploded, and I’d spent years dealing with the fallout. But the longer Christina and I were together, the more inescapable the truth became: we wanted to spend our lives together.

She wanted all of me, the dark and the light. I felt the same way about her.

And though she’d been a good girl these past two weeks, never breaking my rule of chastity, there were times I’d regretted it. We both could have used a good fucking.

I set her down on the thick hotel carpet and she wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her gently, mindful of the wedding dress between us.

The roughness would come soon enough.

“My wife,” I whispered, grinning like a fool.

Christina’s smile beamed out, lighting up her face. “My husband.” She cupped my cheeks in her hands.

I tipped her chin up and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “Do you need anything?”

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