“I can never tell, Gaven,” when Angel spoke my name, it made my insides twist—like vile snakes slithering over one another, excitement boiling beneath their scales, “whether or not you’re threatening me or propositioning me.”
A smirk rose to my lips. “Both,” I informed her, moving closer. “Always both, love.”
Her breath hitched as my cock pressed against her. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. All telltale signs of a woman tempted. Good. I wanted her to feel that. Hungry. Curious.
Where I was drenched in blood, no matter how unseen, she was as different from me as a person could get. It was laughable that I was thinking of tying her to me for the rest of her life. Marking her as mine. But I wasn’t justthinkingabout it; I was going to make it happen.
The quiet perfection in the photograph Raffaello had shown me when he'd made his initial proposal had been fleeting. The reality was something else altogether. I was becoming obsessed with my soon-to-be wife. Every fragile, breakable inch of her. I wanted to shatter her into a million pieces and then put her back together and pour gold between the cracks. I wanted to see if I’d even be capable of breaking her. So far, she’d proven to be far more durable than I’d ever anticipated.
Angel's lashes fluttered, and with a movement that was absent of any intention, her tongue swiped out. Her teeth immediately followed, digging down into the fullness of her bottom lip. It was that look, that one small movement, that sealed her fate.
“You—” She didn’t get another word out. My hands dug into the backs of her thighs and lifted her, cutting off whatever she might have said in an instant as she gasped in shock.
Those hazel eyes shot to mine, and she yelped as I deposited her ass on the table at her back. One quick swipe of my arm sent all the little items that had been displayed there skittering to the floor. Pushing her legs apart, I reached down and began lifting the folds of her dress.
It took a moment for her to realize what I was doing. Once she did, though, she didn’t disappoint. “Gaven!” Shock and fury flooded her face as she gripped her dress and tried to shove it back down; her little movements of resistance made my smile widen even more. “Stop it,” she hissed.
“No.” I wanted her fury. I wanted to see her innocence bleed away into something new. I wanted to shred her to pieces and remake her into my perfect queen. I meant every word when I told her I wanted to fill her stomach with my seed and watch her grow round with my child. I wanted so much more than that too. I wanted to tie her up and fill her to the brim with my cum. I wanted to see her choke on it, her eyes begging me for relief. Relief I had no intention of giving.
Soon she would realize that everything I wanted was something she would crave. I would peel back the petals of her innocence, ripping them to pieces so they couldn’t be put back together. Then and only then would she finally reveal her deepest, darkest desires to me. Already, I could see the change overcoming her as my fingers brushed her inner thighs, while I shoved her skirts up her hips, and her body swayed towards me.
“Spread your fucking legs, Angel,” I growled.
She glared at me and pressed her knees together in response, forcing me to grip them and shove them farther apart. She winced as I spread her open impossibly wide, my hands gripping her under her knees. I pushed up, the crinkling of the soft and delicate fabric of her dress crunching under the movements.
“You’re going to ruin the dress,” she snapped. “Everyone will know.”
“Does that embarrass you?” I mused aloud.
Bright pink touched her cheeks. “Yes,” she hissed back.
“Good.” More, I pushed her legs until she was entirely on her back on the table, nearly folded in half. “Hold your legs.”
Angel shook her head back and forth. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she replied.
"Who gives a shit what we should be doing?” I couldn’t help the growl in my voice. My cock was pounding in my slacks and her delicate little pussy was so close. I was close to losing my control, something even rarer than a woman who intrigued me the way she did. “I do whatever I fucking want," I informed her as I shoved her legs even farther apart despite her half-hearted resistance.
My fingers left the white stockings she had on underneath her gown and moved upward until I touched silky flesh. A groan bubbled up my throat as her gaze darted to mine. There was a flush on her beautiful face. It trickled down from her cheeks and spread across the skin of her upper chest that was rising and falling, pressing her breasts up and nearly spilling them out of the heart-shaped neckline of her dress.
“I can fucking smell you, Angel,” I whispered, relishing in the spark of humiliation that lit up her gaze as it bounced down to my face and then away as if she could hide it if she didn’t look at me. Stepping closer, I moved my hips between hers, keeping her legs pressed open.
Panting, she glanced up at me from beneath her lashes. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.
I hooked my fingers in the thin lace of her underwear and pulled the tiny white thong up her thighs until they were hooked at her knees. She looked like a feast spread open before me, surrounded by all this innocent white lace, her pussy on display.
"Because..." My eyes were locked on her flesh. “I can, Angel.” I grabbed the fabric of her skirts and shoved it up further,leaving her with the several thousand dollar gown bunched around her middle.
Her breasts were still bound within the bodice, and as much as I wanted to free them—to bite and lick at what I was sure were tight, pointed little nipples—her pussy was my goal. I slid two fingers between her bare folds, and when they came away, the truth of her feelings became clear. Shoving my hand in front of her face, I held my sticky fingers before her, the evidence of her arousal on display.
“Someone’s not a very honest little girl, is she?” I taunted her.
A faint growl escaped her as she glared back at me. “If you’re going to fuck me, then just do it, Gaven. Don’t torment me like this.”
“Oh, but that’s what I love, sweetheart,” I replied. “I love tormenting you. Making you question … will he fuck me? Will he put his fist back inside of me?” Her whole body went rigid at that last comment and I chuckled.
“Don’t worry, love,” I assured her. “I have no intention of making you walk down the aisle after having taken my fist in your pussy again.”
“I don’t trust you,” she shot back.
