Page 89 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

She had no idea how he kept her upright. Perhaps he held her. But her thoughts, her body, all of them spiraled to the movement of his hand, the heat of his breath, and his one single word.

“Now.”

Yes!

She fractured apart in his arms. A flood of sensation too myriad to contain.

Yes!

Then suddenly she was in his arms more literally. While her mind had been floating, the pulses continuing at a slowing pace, he had picked up her boneless form. He was carrying her, cradling her in his arms.

She blinked, too pleasured to do more than press a kiss to his neck.

She felt his hands tighten where he held her, then he gently set her on his bed. Her head was pillowed in the blanket. Her legs dangled off the side.

“Mari,” he whispered.

She stroked the hard angle of his jaw as he leaned down above her.

“You will be my wife,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I cannot wait for our wedding night.” This time his statement was almost a question. Almost, but not really.

“I know.” She didn’t truly know. Her mind was not yet her own. But as she spoke, he began to caress her breasts again. Brief strokes, almost reverent. Then she felt his lips there. Suckling on her nipple and bringing everything back into focus.

He couldn’t wait for their wedding night. He meant to take her now. As a husband did a wife. As a man possessed a woman.

He spread her legs, easily stepping between her knees.

He would have her virginity, and she would be completely, irrevocably tied to him.

She felt him there, a large presence at the entrance to her womb, but he didn’t push inside. His hands slid to her flanks, lifting her knees until she gripped him. Then he leaned forward, his expression stark, his eyes dark.

“Mari,” he whispered. “Mari, say yes.”

She touched his jaw, feeling the muscles twitch there. She touched the sensuous curve of his mouth, and then she tightened her knees.

“Husband,” she whispered. “Yes.”

He thrust.

Pain flashed through her consciousness. Bright and sharp enough to make her cry out. He was so big. He was so very there.

He stopped when he was fully embedded. His mouth was tight, and she saw him swallow, but his eyes were on hers. He watched her face as she breathed shallowly and waited.

She softened.

She didn’t know how it happened. Perhaps it was just the pain fading away. She was still stretched and too full, except not as much. Not bad.

Oh. Oh yes.

She began to like the fullness.

“Is there more?” she asked.

He flashed a grin. “Much more.”