There was a time when I feared what he’d do if he knew my secrets. Lunar Witches belonged to a hunted, persecuted magical sector, but Wilder chose me. Fell inlovewith me, shadows and all.
He’s the light to my darkness, and I would be rootless without him.
He must sense my mood shift. “I’m sorry I got caught up talking to Jax and the others. I swear our wedding takes precedence over work.” The concern in his voice sounds genuine.
Does he think I left the party because I saw him talking to his friends and assumed they were discussing Blade business? I frown. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Even if they were, it wouldn’t upset me.
Wilder stopped being a Blade, saying he did it for me, for us, even though I wish he hadn’t. I appreciate the gesture, but being a Blade was his passion. Still, he can’t be convinced that’s true. I’ve tried, but I could always try harder. I don’t want him waking up regretful five years from now.
“Maybe you should let me sleep,” I tease, “so you can go finish talking to Jax. Maybe there’s been a break in the case.”
He laughs—a dark, delectable sound. “Is this a test?”
“No.”
His grip on my hip feels deliciously possessive. “If you want me to show you just how badly I want you, I’ll do it.”
My foot catches on the hem of my dress, and I stumble, but Wilder’s hands on my arms tighten to steady me. The Blades are patrolling; Ravi is on spell duty. I can allow myself to be in love for five minutes, unless Wilder is planning some elaborate wedding scheme, and I am blindfolded as part of a prank.
“I’ve had enough socializing for tonight,” I murmur nervously.
Hetsks.“Good, so have I. What I have planned is just for the two of us. And don’t lie and tell me you’re too tired. I’ve been waiting all night to get you alone.”
I stop thinking about portals and daemons. Nothing else matters except him.
Lust has my core clenching. “Are we still in the hallway? Can people see us?”
My hands reach for the blindfold, but Wilder captures my wrists. “Leave it. I like you like this.”
“Like what?—”
“Vulnerable. Mine to bend and shape as I please.”
He kisses my neck, mouth lingering as I gasp. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Whatever the hell I want. Is that a problem?”
I bite my lip.
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere private…” I strain to listen, trying to hear beyond my thundering heart, searching for footsteps or laughter. But there’s only Wilder.
He presses closer. “Here’s fine.”
Wilder gathers the hem of my dress, sliding the silk up my thighs. Cool air teases my naked flesh. No underwear—never possible with fabric this delicate—and now I’m startlingly, appetizingly bare. He parts my thighs, his mouth at my ear, scraping teeth against my skin. I tremble for him, knees weak.
“Tell me if we are alone,” I breathe.
“Does it matter?” His fingers graze my slit, feeling the dampness there, and then a low, primal groan rumbles against my skin. I grow even wetter in response. “This is your house, your party, and you’re going to bemy wife. Let them watch.”
I’m floating, moored only by Wilder’s touch as everything else disappears.
“O-okay,” I answer with a breathy moan. I’m unsure if I’m responding to his question or reacting to his claiming touch.
I should stop—queenly decorum, lingering responsibilities—but his thumb finds my clit, circling slow. All thought dissolves.
“I think you’re excited by being watched,” Wilder teases. “Look how wet you are for me.”
“People will talk,” I try, half-hearted—a whimper more than a demand.
