Page 110 of Bride By Coronation

He replicates my amusement until we're both fighting tears.

He gradually stops and strokes my cheek. Vulnerability floods his expression. He hesitates, then asks, "So I wasn't imagining things all night?"

"What things?"

Nervousness radiates from him. He takes his time before he reveals, "You weren't disgusted. You were okay when you realized I was who you had to marry?"

My butterflies awaken again. Anxiety floods me as I speak my truth. "No. I was elated it was you."

Happiness lights his eyes. He stares at me, then lowers his lips to mine.

We slowly kiss, lazily rolling our tongue against the other's, his body hardening and mine turning into a damp mess. Our limbs entwine, and fingers grip the other's skin until I'm whimpering underneath him.

I widen my legs and lift my hips.

He enters me, and his girth pushes against my walls, creating a new frenzy of welcomed sensations. His guttural groan dances against my ear as if in relief.

I cling to him, keeping him close, kissing him with more intensity, watching him study me with the same curiosity as before.

He thrusts to the speed of our kisses, and I reach for his ass cheek, pushing my fingers into his muscle, needing more. He responds by forcefully entering me so hard I see stars.

"Oh my God," I whisper.

He mumbles, "Is that what you want, little bird? Me deep inside you?"

"Yes," I barely get out.

He flicks his tongue in my mouth a few times, keeping his thrusts in sync, never taking his eyes off mine.

"Kirill," I mutter, closing my eyes and tipping my head back.

His hand slides over my throat, his thumb pushing against my clavicle.

I moan, my heart racing faster.

"Sexy little bird," he says against my neck while kissing it.

"Please," I beg, wanting the high I've never had before him.

He wraps his fingers around my throat, puts his face over mine, and presses each fingertip into my flesh one at time, as if I'm a piano.

I whimper louder, and a tremor runs through me.

He groans, thrusting deeper inside me.

"So good," I admit. Heat rushes through my veins, and tingles light up my core.

"The best," he praises, pressing all five fingers down at the same time.

A burst of pride floods me, tugging at my heart. No one's ever called me the best or played my body so skillfully. And I want nothing more than for it to be true and to be the best he's ever had.

"How do you tap out, my sexy wife?" he questions.

I blink fast several times.

"Good. But you've already been choked too much tonight, and you have to let your brand heal," he asserts.

Alarm bells ring in my head. I forgot I even had the plastic wrap around my neck. But I shake my head, and my voice falters. "N-no. I'm good!"

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