Page 103 of Beast

"You know I do."

"That’s not good enough," she teases. "Make me feel special."

Jennifer likes to be reassured. It’s not a lack of confidence that makes her seek it out because she is the most confident girl I know.

No, her need for reassurance comes from wanting confirmation that she is special.

The best.

Number one.

And I find myself indulging her time and time again.

"You're marrying the club prince tomorrow. And one day, when I am the king, you'll be my queen."

Her luscious lips curve into an arrogant smile. "Tell me I’ll be a beautiful queen.”

“No other beauty will ever be able to compete with yours,” I say, planting another kiss on her lips.

The kiss deepens and I groan, looking forward to tomorrow night in our marital bed.

Again she breaks it off.

“Don’t get me all worked up,” she says breathlessly. “I’ll need a cold shower if you keep kissing me like that, Adam.”

“Or you could let me in so I can finish what I’ve started.”

She presses her palm into my chest. “You’re a sex fiend.”

“Can I help it if my fiancée is so desirable I can’t keep my hands off her.”

I’m indulging her again, and she grins, enjoying the compliment.

“Tomorrow night you can have me as many times as you like. But tonight I need my beauty sleep.” She gives me a coy smile. “Sweet dreams, my husband-to-be.”

“Sweet dreams, my princess.”

She closes the door and I can't suppress my grin.

A year ago, I was appalled by the idea of marriage. I was too busy with the spoils of being single to want anything serious. I liked to work hard and then fuck harder when the lights went down, and in our clubhouse there was no shortage of beautiful women ready to oblige.

But my father, the club's prez, reminded me I would be club president one day and needed to focus more on the club and less on the variety of pussy I was enjoying.

I would need a wife if I was to be prez, he said. And now was the time to find one. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.

Jennifer worked at one of our clubs. I'd flirted with her enough times to know she wasn't easy to impress, and she made me work a lot harder for her attention than I'd ever had to in the past.

When she finally agreed to a date, I already knew she was going to be the woman I would marry. Within a month, we were engaged.

I don’t know what to expect from being married. But Jennifer likes to fuck and to be the center of the attention. Even if I’m still not a hundred percent sure I want to do this, I know she will be a good old lady.

Leaving her bedroom behind me, I make my way through the old castle that is the Knights of St. Boniface clubhouse. As I climb the grand old stairway, a howling wind whistles through the old structure and a cold shiver runs down my spine. I pause on the steps and listen to the storm whipping through the castle grounds outside. A strange sensation coils in the base of my belly and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s almost as if the wind whispers my name.

Then I laugh and tell myself to stop being such an asshole.

Shaking it off, I bound up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

My bedroom is on the second floor in the east wing. A large cobblestone room with high ceilings and stained glass windows.

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