Page 23

Story: Bloody Wedding

A week later, I had him transferred to an office across the ocean. Their relationship didn’t last the rest of the month.

That was the last man she ever posted on her socials. As for me, the jealousy that I experienced when I realized that Loni entered into a semi-serious relationship made me lose the last of my interest in any woman that wasn’t her. I haven’t been with anyone since, and though I’ve been dealing with one hell of an erection since St. Catherine’s, I focus on what’s important.

Like getting Loni out of that fucking dress.

SIX

ASHTRAY

ADRIAN

Loni opens her mouth, ready to comment on my confession, but before she can, I gesture for her to follow me through the living room. The stairs to the second floor are on the other side of it, and I tell her so.

She pauses in the middle of the space. “I get my own room.”

I glance over at her. She’s wearing a look of pure determination.

Damn it. I knew this would happen.

I arch an eyebrow at her. “You know the Order’s laws.”

“The ones that affect the Offering, yeah.” She gives her head a defiant shake. Another stray strand for her elaborate hairstyle falls into her face. With a rough brush of the back of her hand, she knocks it away. “Of course I do.”

My fingers fucking itch to see if her hair is as soft as I remember.

I flex them, then move until I’m standing in front of her. I reach out toward my wife. She wasn’t expecting it, and when she jerks her head out of my reach, the only thing that happensis that that same strand falls forward again, giving me perfect access to it.

I suck in a breath through my nose, forcing back the shudder that threatens to run through me.

God, that’s fuckingsoft.

Loni was always soft wherever she let me lay my hands on her. The underside of the swell of her tit. Along the side of her waist. The curve of her ass. The hollow of her throat.

The inside of her pussy.

I twist my hand, ready to trace the back of my fingers along the edge of her jaw.

She steps away. “Don’t touch me, Adrian.”

Her eyes glare at me in sudden hatred, the tendons in her neck standing out a sure sign of her restrained fury.

With a small nod, I lower my hand, a hint of an amused smirk tugging on my lips.

I can do hatred. She’s looked at me like that most of our lives, but that didn’t stop me from owning her once. Her heart… her body… she was mine when we were little more than kids.

As far as I’m concerned, she’s never stopped being mine, and now that we’re married, she’ll just have to get used to it. I won’t let her go, and the Order says I don’t have to. The wedding license will be signed and filed in the morning. The Church will be ready for Wednesday mass; I’ll see to that myself. I’ll replace the stock golden band used at every arranged wedding becausemybride deserves the best.Lonideserves it, and whether she hates me now or not, I made my vow to her.

I’ll be the best husband she could ever dream of, and not even she’ll be able to stop me. Before long, I doubt she’ll want to. I won her over once. I look forward to doing it again.

Now, if she was afraid? I’d have more work to do. Indifferent? I’d be rolling up my shirtsleeves. But hatred?

I’ve missed hate sex with Loni Dougherty almost as much as I’ve missedher.

So, no, I won’t push her tonight. I want her in my bed, but I accept that that won’t be happening so soon.

After all, we have forever now.

‘Til death do us part.