Page 958 of One More Kiss

Chapter4

The ceremony is simple.As we hold hands, the celebrant speeds through the vows. My sister, the leashed dog, and one of the mercenaries I hired last night act as witnesses. It’s gaudy and completely unworthy of the beauty staring back at me with faith in her eyes, but it’s legal.

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I look at Ophelia for permission. She meets my inquiring gaze steadily, then nods. With my arm across her back, I dip her low and press my lips against hers. At first, our kiss is chaste. A meeting of our twin desires—one innocent, one impure—in both birth and life.

Quickly, our connection turns hungry. Ophelia parts her lips, then swipes her tongue over the seam of my mouth. I groan. She does it again. Allowing her the entry she seeks, I give her time to explore, before I take control. She gasps when I devour her mouth. My hands roam her body, committing her curves to memory, while I mark her neck and redden her lips with my lips and teeth. Our tongues duel until she’s moaning. Her hands grip me tightly while I hold her close, and when her fingernails bite into my bunched shoulder muscles, I declare victory and stand her back on her feet.

Ophelia touches her swollen lips. “Wow.”

While I appear calm on the surface, I’m just as affected beneath the blank expression I habitually wear. Ophelia sets my body on fire—she also incinerates my soul every time she looks at me with trust in her eyes.

“If I wasn’t already pregnant, I would be now,” Elisenda quips.

I narrow my eyes at my sister, and she laughs. The mercenary coughs, and I know that it’s time to go. Leading the girls back to the idling SUV, I’m on alert. My focus remains as I follow my hired team back to our safe house.

Once inside, I send one man to guard Ophelia’s dog in the yard and one with the girls upstairs. The men disperse, but their leader remains. He leans against the door frame, appraising me in silence.

“Everything’s in order?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“Good. Let me know when our guest arrives.”

A wide smile curls his cruel lips. “What time can we expect Mr. Hernández-Moreno?”

“He’ll be here by six.”

The look we exchange is loaded. These men aren’t loyal to me, but I knew that last night. They’re a necessary evil because Joaquin might believe that he’s the only one with a deal in place, but he isn’t.

Ten minutes after I left my father’s office last night, I had Marcel Hernández-Moreno on the phone. He was a natural ally to cultivate since his hatred of my father is well-known. Even so, I wasn’t certain if he’d be willing to support me. Thankfully, he was ecstatic to thwart my father’s plans and readily agreed to me taking Ludovit’s place with Ophelia in exchange for my cooperation with his single demand.

Now, at six in the morning, I’ll discover what my new allegiance will cost.

My legs are tired as I trudge up the stairs. Three doors greet me: one closed, two open. I look between the two open rooms and try to decide how far I’m going to take things tonight.

It’s clear Ophelia’s inexperienced. And too young.

“Twenty-nine doesn’t go into eighteen,” I mutter.

“Yeah, it does,” the object of my current dilemma interjects. “One point six one recurring times.”

Before I can respond, Ophelia comes into view. She’s wearing nothing but a tiny pair of blue panties and a matching bra. Holding out her hand, she offers me a coy smile that seems at odds with her innocence.

Dragging in a ragged breath, I follow her into the bedroom.

“I’m not afraid, Vitale,” Ophelia stammers. She looks at the floor, at the wall, at anything but me. “I learned at an early age not to want anything because it would be used to control me by the Trinity. Everything in my life is for their benefit, except this… this marriage, tonight, the rest of our lives, is for me. It’s mine and yours. I want you to make me yours… properly.”

Her stuttered explanation eviscerates my indecision. I know exactly what she needs tonight.

Flipping the lock on the door, I tug her deeper into the room.

“Lay down, wife,” I growl, tossing back the covers.

Ophelia climbs onto the bed with anxious expectation in her eyes. Covering her body with mine, I dip down and nip at her lips. She gasps. I allow myself to enjoy the feel of her underneath me for one heartbeat, before I move off her. Standing, I keep my eyes locked on Ophelia’s, as I remove my own clothes until I’m clad only in my boxer briefs. Although I haven’t allowed myself to rake over her form with my eyes, my cock is straining against the black fabric. My wife’s eyes widen when she drops her gaze to sneak a look.

“Eyes up here,” I command.

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