Page 103 of Devil's Bride

He didn’t give me any time to collect myself or object before he captured my mouth. The kiss was as passionate and gentle as his actions had been. He moved our lips together, creating several perfect o’s before sliding his tongue inside.

His self-control was mesmerizing and as he rolled his palms down my arms, every shiver was as much about what he would do as what he was doing. Still, through his gentleness I moaned, arching my back in eager anticipation.

I clung to his shirt, fisting my hands around the crisp material. He’d looked so damn handsome while reciting his vows, his face so stoic that I’d almost believed him.

In sickness and in health was a possibility.

Until death do us part was a definite given the profession we were in.

It was the love and cherish part that had my mind spinning and my stomach doing flip-flops. Just the way he was touching me now was a clear indication of our electric connection, but that’s all it was.

That’s all it could be.

I couldn’t stand to have my fragile heart crushed into a thousand pieces.

As he tasted me, swiping his tongue back and forth, he slid his hands down my back. With a slow and easy movement of his hand, he brushed his palm all the way down to my buttocks.

I shifted my hands to the thong, sliding my fingers under both sides. He allowed the kiss to be broken long enough for me to slide my panties to the floor, easing my feet from the openings. When I stood at my full height, completely bare and in front of a fully dressed man, he narrowed his eyes.

He kissed me more roughly this time and pressed his throbbing bulge between my legs. As he ground his hips back and forth, I became as lightheaded as I’d ever been. When he sucked on my tongue, I thought I would go mad. The sensations tearing through me were incredible.

For a full minute, I was floating on air.

“The things I’m going to do to you, my beautiful wife.” He cupped both breasts, squeezing them until I cried out from discomfort. “Make no mistake. No man will ever touch you again. If they do, they die. And I won’t tell you what will happen to you.”

Anyone who’d overheard his stark words would say he was threatening me, terror his method of control, but I knew better. This was Jago’s love language, as twisted as it might seem.

Yet even when there was any hint of pain, there was always pleasure. He was the perfect composer and I was his beloved student. The analogy was strange, but appropriate.

When he bent his head, sucking and biting on first one nipple then the other, I wrapped my arms around his head. There was something special about curling my fingers in his thick hair, feeling the exploding warmth from his hot breath.

My skin was on fire, my core little more than molten lava.

The moment he pushed back, I frantically worked on the buttons on his shirt. He grinned as if waiting for me to rip it off. I refused, wanting to torment him as much as he was doing to me. When I’d unbuttoned the last one, I gave him an indecent look before flicking my tongue around his nipple.

“Mmm… Careful, my wife. You know how I don’t like to be teased.”

Laughing in as sultry a tone as possible, I rolled his shirt off his shoulders, taking my time to brush my fingertips down his arms. His muscles rippled against my fingers. I ground my pussy against his erection, trying my best to take some control, but my excitement refused to allow me to take my time.

He allowed me to unfasten his belt, doing nothing more than rubbing both my arms as I flashed glances into his eyes every few seconds. His sigh was even more exaggerated when I slowly dropped to my knees. I’d kept my hands on his belt, now tugging the thick leather until I was able to release the strap.

I rolled my hands down his muscular legs until I reached his shoes. The intensity of Jago’s expression remained, his body tense. He was victim to the rush of adrenaline and lust caused by my actions. There was something exciting about watching his emotional state change, his needs outweighing any concept of logic.

With his shoes removed, I brushed my fingers across his feet before crawling them along the inside of his legs. My hunger was creating a need, a temptation to stop teasing him. I needed to feel his cock inside, the grounding as our bodies connected formidable.

And comforting.

I yanked down the zipper, immediately pushing the material aside and within seconds I had his cock in my hand. I’d touched him several times before, but his shaft up close, the thick veins protruding on both sides was a thing of beauty.

Just blowing across the tip had him reaching for me, fisting my hair and whispering words that I wasn’t paying any attention to. Why should I?

Suddenly, he lifted his hand dramatically, winking at me as be backed away.

“Not here.” His words reverberated in my ears. He jerked off his pants, pitching them away by several feet. His black silk boxers were next and all the while, his chest rose and fell. “Come, sweet angel. Follow me.”

I studied him as he took deliberate steps onto the balcony, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Tempting fate was something he loved doing, pushing every envelope of decency and humanity his specialty.

Tonight was no different.

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