Page 46 of Ruined By a Devil

Jade

“Did you two have fun today?” Malachi asks as he brings another bite of steak to his mouth.

“I can’t complain,” I shrug. “But I have to admit that I didn’t know a fake marriage wedding would require so much thought…”

“It does when you’re marrying a Kavanagh.”

I spent the afternoon with Riley, looking at floral arrangements and silk swatches, but I would be lying if I said that my mind didn’t remain stuck in that basement training room. Every time I close my eyes, I feel Malachi’s hard, thick length pressed flush against my hip on the mats. I remember the absolute steel in his frame, the suffocating heat of his body, and the way my pussy pulsed under the sheer weight of him. I can still feel where his hand cupped my waist and it’s killing me to have him sit across from me without touching him, without being able to ask him to rip my thong off and fuck me on this very table.

My body aches with need as I continue watching the way his dark suit clings to his broad shoulders. I want him so badly it makes my teeth hurt, but the cold distance in his pale eyes keeps me anchored to my chair.

“The caterers need the final headcount by Thursday,” I say, forcing myself to think about anything else. I take a small bite of my steak, keeping my voice smooth, light. “Your brother Levi insists on an open bar for the lower-tier men, but Riley says it’ll turn the reception into a bloodbath.”

“Levi can drink what he wants, but my men stay sober on guard duty,” Malachi replies without even looking up as he cuts his meat. “It's a wedding, not a victory party. And with Nolan's men watching the perimeter, we can’t afford having drunk guards.”

“Agree,” I continue, tracing the rim of my crystal glass. “Papà wants twenty seats reserved for the Moretti capos near the head table. He wants to make sure everyone sees the alliance is solid.”

“They can sit where I put them,” Malachi responds.

He sets his fork down, his eyes finally meeting mine from the other side of the table. He pushes his chair back, stands up, and walks slowly around the table. The heavy sound of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor echoes in the quiet room.

He stops right behind my chair, and leans down until his broad chest presses into my back and I can feel his warm breath on the sensitive skin of my neck. Before I can draw a breath, his hand slides under the hem of my skirt, his long fingers traveling up my bare thigh, making me gasp. My legs instinctively part as his palm cups the lace of my thong. He presses two fingers hard against my swollen, wet peak through the thin fabric, making my hips jump off the cushion.

“You've been fidgeting in your seat all night, Jade,” he growls in my ear, his thumb dragging through the thick slick soaking my underwear. “Still wet from this morning? Or are you just desperate to feel me inside you?”

“Malachi...” I whisper, my head falling back against his shoulder as my pussy twitches around his fingers, aching for more.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my thong, dragging it to the side, pressing two fingers directly against my wet clit before he starts rubbing in a slow circle, making my thighs shake.

“I told you,” he continues. “You can get all of this but you're going to ask for it properly.”

Before I can answer, the dining room door opens and Malachi pulls his hand back smoothly, straightening up and slipping his hand into his trousers pocket as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, I scramble to pull my skirt down, my face burning, my heartbeat racing in my throat.

Milo steps inside, carrying a small, square wooden box. He doesn't say a word as he walks past the table and places the box directly in front of Malachi.

“This was left at the front gate,” Milo says, his voice as cold as one would expect from him. “There was no note or signature.”

Malachi walks back to his seat, setting his hands flat on the table. He reaches out and opens the box.

I get up from my chair, the wine glass still in my hand, and step closer to take a better look at what’s in the box. For a brief moment, I struggle to recognize what it is but after taking a better look, I recognize a thick, rusted iron chain, snapped brutally at one end.

Malachi releases a long breath before turning his face to me. He looks frighteningly calm as he speaks.

“Milo,” Malachi says, his voice devoid of any human emotion. “Take Jade upstairs to her room.”

“No.” My blood spikes with immediate heat.

“This isn't a discussion, Jade,” he continues, no trace of the man that was rubbing my clit a minute ago left in his eyes. “Just go upstairs.”

“We had a deal, Malachi,” I remind him, taking a step closer to him. “You agreed you wouldn't hide anything from me that concerns my safety. That package came to this house while I’m living in it. Tell me what that chain is.”

Milo hesitates near the doorway, looking between the two of us. “What should I do?”

“She can stay,” Malachi runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair. When Milo leaves the room, he continues. “It's a threat from Nolan. And a reminder…”

“A reminder of…?” I insist. “Is it related to the hold in the training room today? How your hands freezed when I trapped your wrist?”

“You already know the Devlins kidnapped and tortured me two years ago.” His jaw flexes as he speaks.