Page 86 of Bride By Coronation

He gently pushes his thumb against my pulse, then slides it up and down, staring at me.

I take short breaths as my gaze drifts to his lips.

He moves his face an inch from mine, his hot breath teasing my mouth. He studies my expression, continuing to caress my neck, to the point I'm reeling with anticipation. Then he finally closes the gap.

Our tongues collide in a long-waited battle, tangling with need and desperate for more until I'm out of breath and my knees give out.

He tightens his hold on me, his erection growing and pushing into my stomach.

I whimper, unable to take my gaze off his blues, sliding my tongue deeper into his mouth.

He retreats first, dragging his mouth to my ear, and murmuring, "Make sure you tap out, my beautiful queen."

14

Kirill

The thick air burns hotter in my lungs. The chaotic vibrations in the audience grow, intensifying every ounce of anticipation zipping through me.

Fiona pins her eyebrows together and a flush dances on her cheeks. Her breath pushes past her parted lips in short bursts. She pins her question-filled greens on me.

My perfect little bird.

My wife.

Jesus. She actually went through with it and married me.

Why did she seem happy when she realized it was me?

I'm reading into things again,I tell myself, but the way her face lit up when she said my name is something I'll never forget.

Ulrich holds his arms out as wide as possible. The chanting ends, and the men frantically pound their wooden torches on the ground.

More questions flare across my bride's expression.

Ulrich booms, "The consummationwill now begin!"

An "ugh, ugh, ugh" sound from the women fills the arena, fighting the echo of the stomps. A room with tinted glass walls rises behind Ulrich. A crossbeam runs over a bed, and thick chains with cuffs hang from it. Thirteen men in medieval battle gear and helmets kneel around the mattress, their shiny swords uncovered and pointed toward the sky.

I scowl at Ulrich.

He arrogantly smirks.

Fucking asshole. Of course he wouldn't give me the courtesy of a more private room.

Why did I assume he would?

Panic mixes with intrigue, washing across Fiona's face. She gapes at the room, then around the arena, her pink cheeks reddening as she realizes what will happen. She turns her greens on me, and the flickering flames I saw when I kissed her swirl with nerves.

Ulrich announces, "I present to The Underworld, the Knights of the Round Table!"

The chanting grows louder.

Fiona loses her balance, and I tug her against me, steadying her. Her gaze darts between the room and me.

I hold her close and lift my fist high in the air.

The arena quiets.

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