Page 280 of Wild Card

Man and Wife…

I am a fucking King.

“Please say something,”Willow pleads in a small voice, twisting the rings on her fingers.

I’m too stunned to answer, staring at the clear, sterile wrap on her upper ribcage. Today’s date is scrolled in black ink inside of a compass.

“The dials of the compass are unicorn horns,” she explains quickly.

I take her hand, rolling our fingers over the art. “Who inked you?”

Her hand trembles in mine. “Why?”

“Because if another man touched you, I’m not responsible for what happens to him.”

She grins nervously. “I went to a woman, honey.”

“And it’s safe for the baby?”

“Yes, I checked. I mean, they didn’t recommend making a habit of getting tattoos over the next five months, but this was perfectly fine.”

“Why did you put it here?” I scale over every inch of the design, memorizing it.

“I wanted somewhere close to my heart with less likelihood of stretching out of proportion. My breasts are obviously not an option,” she tries to joke, her voice shaky.

Her eyes are filled with apprehension as she stares at me. “It’s you. The compass, the horns of a mythical creature, the date we married.”

“And this?” My finger trials over the card-like design in the middle of it all.

“It’s a wild card.”

I close my eyes, my heart racing as waves of possession burn through me. “Mine,” I grate out.

She steps over the wedding dress pooled at her feet and presses her body close. “Yours.” Her fingers fumble with my shirt until I can’t take it anymore, splitting it open, buttons flinging everywhere. I crash my mouth to hers, lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the bed.

Her ankles wrap around my waist as I lay her down, flicking her bra off and tossing it to the side. Her tits poke into my bare chest, fueling my need to taste her everywhere.

I tear my mouth away, latching onto a nipple and sucking hard. She cries out, arching into my mouth. My fingers find the straps of silk at her hips and yank, ripping the material from her body.

She moans in pleasure when I slip my finger between her wet folds, taking time to caress her clit softly.

My mouth moves to the other side, nipping on the hardened peak and sucking until she’s clasping my head. “Talon.”

I sink my fingers inside her, scissoring them along her walls and teasing until she is panting.

It doesn’t take long for her to shout my name, her body writhing.

Gently, I unfasten her legs, kiss my way down her body, paying special attention to the delicate area of the wrap, and pull at her navel ring with my teeth before sliding to my knees. My mouth moves over her hipbone, sucking in small spots, knowing I’m leaving my mark. When my tongue skims along her slit, she whimpers.

“All fucking afternoon and night, I forced myself to behave, wanting to steal you away, see what you had waiting for me under that dress. The only consolation was knowing at the end of the night, I’d fuck you in these shoes, my diamonds, and nothing else. No way I could have expected you’d ink yourself for me. Didn’t think you could get any fucking sexier. I was goddamned wrong.”

“I need you.” She tugs on my hair.

“You get me, baby, when I’ve had my fill.”

My tongue darts over her clit a few times before delving inside her. She bolts up on the bed, her heels digging into my back.

Shit if my wife isn’t responsive. The woman has always been reactive, but pregnancy has heightened her senses. Her hips buck, her little sounds spurring me on.

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