Page 57

Story: Bloody Wedding

“I hate how much I want to touch you,” I spit out at last.

SIXTEEN

TELL ME

LONI

“So don’t,” counters Adrian. He trails a finger along the curve of my bare tit. “But that won’t stop me from touching you.” Pulling away suddenly, gaze darkening as he props himself up on his elbow, he adds, “Unless my wife decides she hates that, too.”

I wish I did. Just like I wish I hatedhim.

Instead, I mourn the loss of his possessive touch on my skin, and the unexpected grief has me pushing him, even though I know—webothknow—how this will end.

“You’d stop?” I ask, disbelief dripping from my tone. “Just like that?”

“No.” Satisfied that I was right, I arch my back, and Adrian? He takes my entire tit in his palm, squeezing it while I bite down to keep my moan from escaping. “But I would make you beg for it… make youcravethe feeling of my hands on you… and then you’d stop this bullshit that you weren’t always meant to be mine. Wouldn’t you, princess?”

Damn it. Look at me. Like a cat in heat, I’m purring all because Adrian is touching me, making me preen. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m tired, Adrian.”

“No, but you are trying to avoid your feelings.”

I huff.

He lays his hand on my side, undeterred regardless. “What is it, Loni? You gonna be a good girl and let your husband pleasure you the way you deserve? Or will you just wait until I’m asleep to touch your pussy while thinking of me? Either way, I’ll be the only name on your lips when you come. ”

The way he says that… it’s like he knows what helps me fall asleep some of the nights when he’s down the hall and I was desperately to swallow my pride and slip into bed with him.

Then again, this is Adrian Heller. He probably does.

He’s trying to shock me, isn’t he? To say things that will only rev me up so that I inevitably give in.

Well, two can play that game…

“You took my vibrator, but my fingers still work.”

He takes my nearest hand, stroking the underside of my fingers. “Do you know how fucking jealous I am of them right now? When all I want to do is touch my wife… that’s all. You can lie there like a motherfucking princess, and I’ll be your willing servant. Whatever you want? I’ll give it to you. Just let me touch you.”

God, he sounds so damnearnest.

Ihateit.

This game of his, that I’ve got any power… thatIrulehim…is laughable. He’s one of the Owed. An Offering is nothingbutthat. I was given to him. To use. To fuck. To breed.

But he wants to pretend that he worships me?

Fine.

“I don’t want your hands on me, asshole.” He quirks an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading on his irritatingly handsome face as I snap, “I want yourmouth.”

“Anything for you, princess.”He makes sure I’m flat on my back, then scoots me just enough so that I’m propped up on a pile of pillows at my back. Then, right when I’m about to tell him forget it, that I didn’t mean it, he smirks at me.

That fuckingsmirkagain.

“Grab the headboard.”

I flatten my palm against the fancy wooden headboard behind me. Suddenly understanding what he expects from me—that, if he can’t use his hands, I can’t either—I keep my other hand at my side, fisting the sheets in anticipation.