Page 120 of Brutal Union
“Ooo,” he mutters. “I am so scared.”
His lips brush the base of my neck—light, slow. Then higher, pressing a kiss just beneath my jaw. The heat coils low in my stomach, and I don’t move. Don’t breathe. Another kiss, just behind my ear, and I can feel the smile against my skin as he murmurs, “I am going to rip this dress off with my teeth later.”
I laugh softly, though it’s more of a breathless exhale. “Only if you’re a good boy until after the ceremony.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gaze sharp and predatory. “You wouldn’t torture me by not giving me a taste.”
The word no dies in my throat. Because the way he’s looking at me—like he’s already undressing me in his mind—makes my heart race and my skin flush. I swallow hard, trying to steady myself, but it’s impossible when he’s this close, when his hands are still on my waist, when his lips are still tilted in that dangerous smirk.
“Gwen will kill me if I fuck up this dress,” I gasp as his hand trails up my outer thigh.
“Gwen is going to have to fight me first,” he growls, nipping at the edge of my ear.
“You’re terrible,” I manage finally, my voice shaky. “An hour before the ceremony, and you’re already?—”
“Trying to consummate the marriage?” His fingers tighten slightly on my waist, and he leans in again, his breath warm against my ear.
“You are insufferable,” I grab his hand just as he gets to my hips, but before he can fully notice that I am not wearing any panties. “Am I going to have to handcuff you to keep your hands to yourself tonight?”
He smirks, cocky and completely unrepentant. “Please?”
I push at his chest with the intention of creating space, of reminding him we’re on a schedule, but all it does is give him leverage. His hands slide lower as he pulls me closer, until our bodies are fully pressed together—my chest against his, the silkof my dress dragging across the textured folds of his hakama, every breath shared, every inch of me aligned to the heat rolling off of him.
He dips his head, brushing his nose against mine, and for a second everything goes still. His hand tightens at my waist like he’s holding himself back. Like he’s trying to be good.
Then he kisses me.
It’s not rushed. It’s not rough. It’s slow—intensely so—like he’s drawing it out on purpose, like he wants to savor it. His lips press against mine with a steady, controlled pressure, warm and coaxing, not demanding, but deep and knowing. Like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
My body reacts before I can think. My lips part beneath his, and his tongue finds mine, slow and smooth and maddening. I clutch at his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his kimono, trying to anchor myself. But it doesn’t work.
The kiss deepens.
His mouth moves with precision—tasting, teasing, taking. His hand skims the curve of my lower back, drawing small circles that send sparks through my spine. My skin buzzes. My pulse spikes. Every part of me feels like it’s being dragged closer to something dangerous and inevitable.
He tilts his head and groans softly into my mouth as my fingers slip beneath the edge of his collar. I feel the bare skin there—warm, tight with muscle—and I want more. I want all of him. Here. Now.
His kiss turns hungrier, just slightly—his teeth grazing my bottom lip, his hand tightening at my hip like he’s seconds awayfrom spinning me around and doing things we won’t be able to walk away from.
I break the kiss first. Barely.
My lips are swollen. My breath short. My heart pounding like it wants to leap into his hands.
“Tell me the truth, Hime,” he says, voice rough, lips still brushing mine.
“Hhm?”
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
I smirk, slow and cruel. “Guess you’ll find out later.”
His hands stay on me, but his eyes narrow, calculating the weight of that tease. I drag my thumb across his mouth, deliberately slow, watching his control fray.
“You better walk away now,” I murmur, lips brushing his jaw, “because if you mess up this dress I am edging you all week.”
Sho swears under his breath, jaw clenched tight, as he pulls me in even closer, breathing me in and definitely ruining my dress.
“Nadia you are not going to-” Nikolai’s voice snaps the perfect tenderness of the moment as he rips open the door. “There you are!”
