Faery Wedding (4 page)

“You
already
pissed me off,” she pointed out as he drew her aside into a small alcove. With an indulgent smile, the few guests in their way parted to allow the happy couple some privacy.

“They don’t know, do they?”

She peeked around his broad shoulder at the crowded room. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that this was a normal wedding. One where the bride and groom had met, perhaps at work, or someplace else, had fallen in love, and decided to marry. A celebration that was a sign of a commitment born of emotion, not financial necessity and contract.

Without realizing it, she had her hand on his upper arm, her fingers curled around the solid strength there. Under the fine fabric of his suit, she knew he was all hard muscle and satin skin. Goddess, help her, just the idea turned her on. As if on cue, her mind replayed their little tryst earlier and the images that had haunted her since last night.

He shifted, effectively blocking her view of the world beyond him and creating their own little world in the shadowed alcove. To his credit, he didn’t play the dumb male and pretend not to know what she meant.

“No. They don’t know.” He moved closer and ran a finger down her cheek in a gentle movement.

The barely there touch sent shivers through her, right down to her toes, shod in delicate ivory satin sandals.

“I wanted…I didn’t want you to have to deal with that. Not today.”

Another subtle movement and he had her cornered, the warmth of his hard body in front of her and the coolness of the wall behind her. The fragrance of the lilies in the floral arrangement almost covering the entrance of the alcove wove their magic, coiling around her and seducing her sense of smell. Under the heady scent, she could his smell his aftershave and the earthy smell underneath that was purely Deverell.

Tilting her head back, she looked him in the eye. “What do you mean, not today?”

He smiled, a devastatingly slow and sexy expression that caused her heart to stutter in her chest. He couldn’t look at her that way and not feel anything, surely?

“No bride should contend with malicious gossip and rumour on her wedding day. Even if this had been a true marriage of convenience, I wanted you to have this one day at least. Doesn’t every woman want to be a princess on her big day?”

She just nodded, unable to speak. His perception and the thought behind his words startled her. She’d had him pegged as the typical, arrogant fae lord. An impression that had only been reinforced by his actions earlier.

He cupped the nape of her neck. The calluses on his palm, another indication he was anything but the idle fae lord he appeared, rasped against the soft skin.

“Asharra. I’m sorry I lied to you. I thought you’d be relieved to see me at the altar. Let me make it up to you, sweetheart. Let’s start again. ”

He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. The simple gesture, more a proto-kiss than an actual kiss, was innocent and not. In a touch, he begged forgiveness and offered a new beginning. Ash could resist all the pretty words in the world, but the simple truth in his kiss undid her.

Tilting her head, she kissed him back. Her lips softened under his and clung. He rumbled deep in his throat, a sound of approval. She squeaked as he bent and scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing. Lifting his head, he looked down at her. His heavy-lidded slumberous look promised all sorts of sensual delights for the night ahead, and a lifetime of devotion.

“Say the word, Lady Hunter, and we’re out of here.”

Ash smiled, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and treated him to a hot look from under her lashes. “I thought you’d never ask. Take me home, Lord Hunter. Take me to bed.”

His smile was instant. Heat flared in his eyes as he carried her out of the alcove and toward the door.

The rest of the world fell away as they left the reception. A few catcalls made it through the romantic haze surrounding her, but all her attention was focused on Dev. Settled in his strong arms, she looped her own around his neck and trailed butterfly kisses along his shadowed jaw. She couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t believe that he was all hers and that they were married.

When she’d first seen him before the ceremony, for an instant she’d been convinced he’d come to whisk her away from the hell her life had become. Hope had flared before reality had crashed back down on her and reminded her of the trap she was caught in. Everything had worked out better than she could have imagined.

“Princess,” he warned as they stepped into the lift. “You need to stop that, or we won’t make it to the bridal suite.”

Ash giggled, feeling light-headed with both relief and the sexual tension that stretched out between them. Ignoring his order, she leaned in and nipped his earlobe lightly. He growled again, another warning. She sucked it into her mouth to ease the tiny hurt, flicking her tongue back and forth across the silver earring he wore.

Baiting him like this was dangerous, but she didn’t care. She’d already tasted the ferocity of his passion and wanted more. She wanted to make him lose control and revel in the result. Giggling at yet another warning rumble from his broad chest, she flicked the earring again.

She wasn’t prepared for his reaction. Without warning he turned, dropped one of her legs and pressed her up against the back wall of the lift. She squeaked in surprise as his mouth crashed down on hers, the sound lost under the sensual attack. With a ruthless sweep of his tongue, he parted her lips and drove within. Thrills surged unchecked through her veins, like speedway cars looking for victory. Heat blossomed between her legs as he ground his pelvis against her, the engorged length of his cock pressed where she needed it most.

He twined his tongue with hers, a silent demand for surrender as he covered her smaller body with his own. Pressed between the wall and his solid mass, she had no choice or chance of escape. Not that she wanted any. With a small moan she wrapped herself around him, lifting her leg to hook her ankle around the back of his hips and pull him hard against her.

He groaned low in his throat and tore his lips away. He didn’t go far. His lips traced a line of fiery kisses along her jaw, and, as she tilted her head, along her neck.

“Gods, you’re so sexy. I want you…want to push this pretty dress up—”

Even as he spoke, he was suiting action to words. His hand was under her satin hem, the fabric bunched around his wrist as he stroked along her thigh.

She chuckled, a breathless sound that gave away just how much he affected her. “You did that earlier. I’m going to start thinking you have a fetish about bridal wear.”

He nipped her ear in retaliation for her teasing. She gasped as the tiny pleasure-pain drew a line from her ear right down her body. Her nipples, already beaded under her heavily embroidered bodice, throbbed. Sensual images filled her mind; Dev pushing the thin straps off her shoulders to roll the bodice down, tucking the cups of her bra back…leaning down, his hair black against the creaminess of her skin as he took a rose-tinted nipple into his mout—

“Hey! Cut that out!” she gasped, the mental images he was feeding her enough to make her almost come there and then.

“I don’t have a fetish about bridal wear. I just have a fetish about you.” His breath was hot against her ear, a strained note in his voice that told her he was riding the edge of his control. “I need you, Ash. Need to be inside you, my cock filling your tight little cunt over and over again until you scream my name.”

Trying to conceal the heat and wickedness that filled her, she pursed her lips as the door behind them pinged their arrival. Instantly he released her, her skirts falling down around her as he set her back on her feet.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a while,” she informed him over her shoulder as she walked out of the lift. “A lady needs time to…ah, powder her nose. Perhaps take a shower and a little nap—”

The look on his face warned her an instant before he started after her. Squealing in delight, she grabbed handfuls of satin and made a run for it. There was nothing a Fae warrior liked more than to chase down his prey, she knew that from watching her father’s warriors.

Smaller and faster, she darted out of the lift and into the room beyond. As she stepped through the lift doors she felt the small shiver that indicated she’d stepped through a portal. Thanks to the magic available to the Fae, the church, the reception hall and Dev’s home were all within steps of each other. The room she barrelled into was huge, and very masculine in flavor. Dev’s room, it had to be.

She didn’t get a chance for more than a quick look around, noting the huge bed covered in black silk sheets, before he caught her. With a laugh of triumph, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed in long strides. Pausing at the foot of the large expanse, he claimed her lips in a long, passion-filled kiss. When he lifted his head, they were both having trouble breathing.

“Lady Hunter, I do believe you are overdressed. Pretty as your dress is, I’d rather see you out of it,” he whispered against her lips. Releasing her legs, he slid her down the length of his muscled, and very aroused, body.“Turn around, princess.”

Heart hammering in her chest, and the heat low in the center of her body hot enough to rival the sun, Ash did as he bid. Despite their size, his hands were gentle and precise as he undid the multitude of buttons. The gown parted, and a shiver ran through her as the cool air hit her back. Then he was done, sliding the straps off her shoulders to let the gown slid down her arms, past her hips and to the floor.

“Beautiful,” he whispered reverently, his hands smoothing down her arms to take her hands and help her step from the billowing pile of satin.

Feeling shy for some bizarre reason, she turned a circle for him, showing off her slender body encased in the white satin lingerie she’d chosen for a husband she didn’t, hadn’t, wanted. She was still female, and vain enough to want to look her best on her wedding night. The original intention had been to look so sexy and alluring that, if she was lucky, the old codger kicked the bucket there and then. If he didn’t, then she’d wanted to give him a wedding night he’d never forget, and then never let him touch her again.

She looked at him anxiously, watching his face for any sign of reaction. Sure, she knew he found her attractive…he’d proved that earlier when he’d taken her before the ceremony. But was it the sort of attraction that could blossom into something more?

Reverence claimed his expression, the look in his eyes stunned as he viewed her in her finery for the first time. Her high, pert breasts were encased in embroidered satin, the cups moulding and pushing the twin globes together to form a deep cleavage. She wore high cut, thong panties and lace topped stockings that were no more substantial than a wisp of mist. The whole ensemble was designed to give any red-blooded man an instant hard-on.

She looked down. She already knew he was aroused, had felt the length and breadth of him pressed against her in the lift. Even so, the tenting at the crotch of his pants made her blush. He was big,
very
big. And, God help her, all she could think about was that hard cock filling her again.

He slid a gentle finger under her chin and lifted her chin so she had to look him in the eye. Tenderness warred with primal need. “That fetish? I think it just became a lifelong obsession…with getting you out of your clothes. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

She bit back a snort of amusement and looped a finger in the front of his pants. Dragging him too her, she lifted on her tiptoes to claim his lips in a quick, torrid kiss.

“I don’t want you to be gentle.” Her words were whispered against his lips as she backed up toward the bed. A hot look in her eyes, she carried on, turning her back and crawling onto the silken sheets in the most sensual manner she could muster. Halfway she looked over her shoulder again, to find he’d shed his clothes and was watching her with hot, predatory interest.

Her heart caught in her chest at the sight of him; all hard, toned muscle, with his cock standing proudly out from his stomach like an iron bar. She caressed his length with her eyes, and licked her lips. She couldn’t wait to get him inside her. At the mere thought, her body hummed and the savage ache between her thighs increased.

“Gods Ash, don’t look at me like that,” he begged, following her across the bed. Reaching out he grabbed her ankle and dragged her until she was under him.

“Why not?”

She smiled up at him, her hands smoothing over his heavily muscled arms. Her hair billowed out around her on the bed, a snarled mess she ignored. All that mattered was the need swirling through her body.

“You know why, you little witch,” he groaned, and took her lips in another kiss. This one wasn’t gentle or kind. Instead it broadcast his need to dominate and claim. She whimpered, the sound lost into his mouth as he moved over her.

His knee slid between hers, pushing her thighs apart. She didn’t resist, a tiny sound of eagerness in the back of her throat. Her pussy clenched as his hand flirted with the side of her hip, fingertips playing with the silken ties on the sides of her panties.

Then he stopped playing, stripping the panties from her in brutal, economical movements. She gasped as his hand was there, parting her lips before he plunged two fingers deep into her pussy.

“God, you’re wet already. Princess, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered against her lips. His big body trembled above hers, as though he was holding onto control by a thread. “I’m sorry, love, I don’t think…this is gonna be fast. We’ll go slow next time, I promise.”