“For what?” he clips.
My fingers dab at the corners of my sticky lashes as I try to compose myself. “People don’t get married after three nights.”
He hauls me against him so that no space remains between us, his body vibrating with … something—determination, desire, desperation, anxiety? I’m not sure. But he holds me like he’s rescuing us both.
“We’re standing in a city where people get married after three hours,” he argues, “so I beg to differ. And it hasn’t only been three nights.”
His voice is husky and rough as he speaks into my ear. “I know the music you listen to—the songs plucked from every genre imaginable—your favorite foods, your coffee order, your fashion sense.I recognized you on a grainy camera when you were wearing a wig and not showing your face, solely by your gait, because I know the way you move. Your eyes are invariably captivating, but never the same—a different color conquering each day. Your lips are always painted pink, you have a frighteningly unhealthy candy addiction, you can’t get out of bed in the morning, and you’re adventurous, bold, loyal, loving. And expressive. You’ve always been the most breathtaking girl I’ve ever seen—carefree and full of life—but I can’t stop envisioning the way your features twisted in ecstasy beneath me because it surpassed any fathomable definition for beauty. So, I have no doubt that I want to study that gorgeous face for the rest of my life.”
He dusts his thumb over my lips, his smoldering eyes ping-ponging between mine. “I’ve been collecting little pieces of you for years—gems I’ve pocketed away. Does it sound like I’ve only wanted you for three days?”
Damn, he can freaking wallop me with his words. My knees falter, and I slump against him. I wish I had recorded that so I could play it over and over again each night as I drifted off to sleep.
But I’m a fighter. He probably knows that too. So, no matter how dazed I am by that astonishing declaration, I’m not done. “And if I still say no?”
“No isn’t an option, Little Moon. We’ve been through that.”
“So, you’d what?” I shrug and arch a challenging brow. “Hold me at gunpoint?”
He chuckles. “Let’s not go there. I don’t want to fight you or force you. But I take care of what’s mine. And that’s you, baby girl. Thisishappening.”
My breaths quicken, jagged and choppy. This whole prospect is startling and scary. But it’s also exhilarating—his commanding presence, his honest answers, and his staggering admission to knowing me, wanting me.
That obstinate side of me needs more reassurance though. “Weren’t you frequenting the Noire sex club a few weeks ago? And now, you’re ready to be locked down?”
His fingers swipe up and down my back, scratching over the bare skin above my strapless top—a soothing gesture that doesn’t match the threat he issued. “I understand why that would bother you. But despite what it looked like, I told you the truth that day. I was getting a drink there because I was distraught.About you.Because I was told to stay away and it was killing me. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. And never … never like we’ve been.”
Good God, he came armed tonight.
“I just …” I stammer, at a momentary loss for my argument.
“That’s enough objections.” He has a fierce, savage quality to his gaze as it rakes over me, and he tacks on, “I’m planning to fuck you ferociously at the conclusion of the ceremony, but if you need me to fuck you into compliance first, we can go that route.”
A smile tickles my cheeks. I don’t hate the sound of that. All these years, he’s lured me with his benevolence. Not that the hint of his depraved side wasn’t lurking beneath the surface, but it was never the focus. Jax claimed that made him more dangerous—not knowing what I was getting with him. But I disagree. Ty is the depiction of fortitude, smiling through a life of fire and brimstone.
I told him I only had two speeds, and it doesn’t appear that he’s going to permit me to hide from this, sofuck it. Looks like I’m getting married. But I might as well enjoy the ride.
“You can try to fuck me into submission with your big-dick energy, sailor. I won’t go quietly into the night.”
“You’ll becomingquietly into the night in a few minutes.” With that, he smirks, winks, and steps back to the door, opening it and directing his attention to someone inside. “Leave us,” he orders before closing the door and returning to me.
He flips me around with a swift spin so that I’m facing the city, places my hands on the cool railing, and nudges my legs apart with his foot. Yanking on my hair, he glides his scruffy cheek against mine with a tantalizing bristle, his breath cascading over my skin ashe rasps in my ear, “Be a good girl for me. Keep those hands where they are and your whimpers muffled.”
“So confident in your ability to make me whimper?” I jeer, but my challenge is upended by goose bumps erupting on my arms as he delicately drags his fingers over every inch of visible skin. My shoulders tremble with anticipation, and a traitorous purr breaches my lips.
“There she is. I have your sounds memorized,” he croons, rucking my dress up to my waist, “playing on repeat in my mind”—and ripping down my panties—“and every touch that caused them.”
His fingers coast over me, entrance to clit in a tease of friction. “You’re drenched.”Plunge.“Greedy.”Swirl.“You want this.”Pinch.“You’re mine.”Circle.“And you’re too bright and perfect to be kept a secret, Rena. I won’t hide you. I want the world to know who you belong to.”
For all the years he was tight-lipped with me, he sure knows how to make up for it. My heart is swelling out of my chest.
When I hear his zipper, a fervor zings through me, shivers cascading down my limbs in the breezy night air, but I still dole out a taunt. “What if I hate you for this?” I tilt my face to survey his reaction over my shoulder.
He grins against the darkness, his eyes creasing with mirth as he glides his piercing back and forth through my arousal, the cool metal causing ardent tingles to rack through my core. “For fucking you with the city beneath us? You don’t hate anything about this. My filthy girl.”
“For alienating my brothers,” I clarify on a moan and hate myself for mentioning them during such an exquisitely erotic sensation.
“They wouldn’t want any part of this.” He chuckles, his arrogance shining through that snide rebuttal, but then he addresses what I’m really getting at while thrusting his rock-hard length inside me and stealing my breath. “I’ll take my chances. Having you in my arms is worth every risk.”
