Page 14 of Bound in Matrimony

"Never." I close the distance between us in three long strides. "I'll never be done looking at you."

Her breath hitches as I cup her face in my hands. The emerald ring I put on her finger now sits alongside the platinum band that matches mine. The stones catch the light as she places her hands over mine.

"Knox—"

"I need you to understand something." My voice is rough, lower than usual. "What happened today changes everything."

Her green eyes—slightly more blue tonight in the dim light—search mine. "We're married now."

"Yes." I slide one hand down to her throat, feeling her pulse jump beneath my palm. "You're mine now. Legally. Completely." I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. "Do you understand what that means?"

She swallows, and I feel the movement against my hand. "Tell me."

I press her backward until she meets the wall, caging her with my body. "It means there's no more separation between us. What's mine is yours." I bring my mouth to her ear. "And what's yours is mine. Your body. Your future. All of it."

A shiver runs through her, but she doesn't look away. "I know."

"Do you?" I grip her waist, feeling the delicate lace of her wedding dress beneath my fingers. "Because I need you to be very clear on this, Seraphina. I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you. I've needed you since our first night together. But now that you're my wife—" I press my hardness against her, making her gasp, "—I'm going to have all of you. No holding back. No barriers. Nothing kept from me."

Instead of the hesitation I half-expected, her pupils dilate, nearly swallowing the green. "Yes."

One word. A simple affirmation. It ignites something primal inside me.

I capture her mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing her moan as my tongue claims hers. My hands find the concealed zipper of her dress, dragging it down with one swift pull. The expensive lace whispers as it falls to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a white lace lingerie set that makes my mouth go dry.

"Did you pick this for me?" I trace the edge of the bra with one finger, watching goosebumps rise on her perfect skin.

She nods, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I know what you like."

"You do." I unhook the delicate garment and slide it down her arms. "You know I like to see what belongs to me."

Her nipples tighten under my gaze, and I capture one in my mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. My hands grip her thighs, lifting her against the wall as her legs wrap around my waist.

"Knox—please?—"

"Please what, Mrs. Vance?" I grind against her, still fully clothed while she's nearly naked. "Tell me what my wife needs on her wedding night."

Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me back to look at her. There's desperation in her eyes, but something more—a hunger that matches mine.

"I need you to show me." Her voice is breathless but steady. "Show me what it means to be yours."

Those words snap whatever restraint I've been clinging to. I carry her to the bed, laying her on the crisp white sheets before standing back to remove my tuxedo. She watches me with those artist's eyes, taking in every detail as I strip away each layer.

When I'm finally naked, I kneel between her thighs, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her lace panties. "These were beautiful." I tear them away with one sharp pull. "I'll buy you a hundred more."

She gasps, but her thighs fall open wider. I take a moment just to look at her—my wife, spread out before me, her skin flushed pink with desire. I've had countless women before her, but none of them mattered. None of them were mine like she is.

"I'm going to mark you tonight," I tell her, my voice raw with honesty. "So that every time you move tomorrow, you'll feelwhere I've been. So that every time you look in the mirror, you'll see evidence that you belong to me."

Her eyes darken further. "Yes."

I lower my head between her thighs without warning, tasting her with a groan that vibrates against her sensitive flesh. She cries out, her hands flying to my hair as I devour her like a starving man. I spell my name against her with my tongue, claiming her most intimate place as my personal territory.

When she's trembling, right on the edge, I pull back. Her protest dies on her lips as I move up her body, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand.

"Look at me," I command as I position myself at her entrance. "I want to see your eyes when I make you mine."

She doesn't look away, not even when I thrust into her with enough force to slide her up the bed. The connection between us is electric, a current that runs straight from her gaze to mine, grounding us together as I begin to move.

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