As I always did, I obeyed her. Her green eyes shone against the white of her high-necked dress, chosen to hide the ink across her chest. A mark that both thrilled and terrified me. She lifted her hands and held my face between them, red lips swollen from my efforts.
“To have and to hold from this day forward,” she whispered.
And so she pulled me into her shores, helpless to withstand her siren’s call.
“For better or worse,” I answered.
Her smile was a light in the darkest night, and I had the distinct feeling that if I were ever lost, it would call me home to her. When she kissed me this time, it was slow, deliberate, like we were sealing our souls to the words. I dug my hand into her hair and held her against me, refusing to let her escape. I wanted her.
She nipped at my lip, and it was unexpected enough that I released some of the pressure against her, earning a wild grin from her. Like this was all a game, and I wasn’t burning with the need to be inside her.
“For richer, for poorer,” she said.
“I’m significantly poorer since you looted a decade of wealth,” I said, not irritated in the least.
Rose shifted her hips, rubbing against me and sending a shot of desperation through me. God, this woman would kill me yet.
“In sickness and health.” I ground out.
Her laugh was a melody, and with that, I calculated how best to destroy her damned dress if it meant I got to taste her.
Burying her head into my shoulder, she pressed a kiss to my neck, gentle and loving.
“Say the next part,” she whispered.
And just like that, we were back on the Wraith in the middle of a storm, kraken tentacles all around us. The moment I should have told her what she was to me. When I should have confessed how thoroughly she’d ruined me.
I grabbed her chin with my finger and thumb and pulled her away so she could understand that I wasn’t lying to her. That I would not lie to her. Her eyes that had been sparkling only moments before, shimmered with emotion. A hunger in them that could not be satiated with touch alone.
“To love and to cherish,” I said.
She swallowed hard.
“Till death us do part,” she finished.
It was true enough now. I’d follow her right into the sea. Our souls were intertwined now, and where she went, so did I.
I lowered my mouth to hers and sealed our fates with the way we moved together. Always wanting, never satiated. I needed her. Carriage and dresses be damned. Of a similar mind, Rose began pulling up her dress and twisted her body so she was straddling God and me; she was perfect.
The ache I felt was searing me now, desperate to feel her skin against mine. Dragging my teeth along her bottom lip, I breathed her in like she was a prayer. Her answering moan was all I needed to survive.
The carriage jerked to a halt, and Rose began to fall back, but I held her tight against me, willing the carriage to start again, butit didn’t. Instead, the telltale sound of footsteps on gravel made me wish I’d brought my pistol.
Half ready to murder the innocent driver for having the audacity to do his job and concerned about what rumors the state of us would spread, I let Rose slide off me and right her dress. My sudden bad mood was somewhat appeased by the state of her hair, which was back to being unruly as it was always meant to be. The small smear of crimson around her mouth was also uniquely satisfying.
Squinting her eyes, she lifted her finger to her mouth from where she sat opposite me. Something between a frown and a smile on her face.
“You have rouge on your mouth,” she whispered, before glancing at the door.
I enjoyed watching her squirm as the driver opened the door. Her darting eyes gave away the worry that only a London socialite would harbor. After all, servants had a habit of talking. Rose was more confident now, and while I loved that about her, I also couldn’t help but appreciate this version as well.
I subtly scratched at the corner of my mouth as I ducked out of the carriage, but as much as Rose tried to fix her hair, it was in a state of disarray that came from more than a bumpy carriage ride. I offered her my hand, and her grip was a vice around mine as we walked up the steps of Fairview.
A necessary evil and one my father insisted on. An attempt at gaining back power over me, over us. If I wanted to maintain that I was his long-lost nephew, he would attend the wedding and host the ball after. He knew we would agree, and he gloated over it well enough.
Servants stood outside Fairview, ready to greet us, but I ignored them and quickened my step away from their knowing gazes. I’d only been to this hellhole once, but I knew exactly where I was going.
What we began in the carriage ride was thrumming with every beat of my heart, and it was all I could do not to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.
