Page 57

Story: King of Power

I run a hand over my face, trying to rein in my temper. “You think I wanted this? To watch my bride stumble through our vows because she couldn’t face marrying me sober?”

Eve’s eyes flash in the dim light. “Don’t act hurt. This isn’t real, remember? Just a marriage on paper to keep me alive.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to embarrass us both by getting drunk,” I snap, then immediately regret my harsh tone when she flinches.

The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words. I watch as she wraps her arms around herself, looking small and vulnerable in her wedding dress. The sight tugs at something in my chest.

“I’m scared, okay,” she whispers finally, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. That man out there—Nicolo—he terrifies me. And you … I don’t even know who you really are.”

The raw honesty in her voice strips away my anger, leaving only concern. She’s right to be scared. Right to doubt. And the gin was her way of coping with a situation spiraling far beyond her control.

“You’re afraid of me.” I take a step closer, watching how she tenses but doesn’t back away. The scent of gin and her perfume fills my senses. “But you don’t need to be.”

Her eyes search mine in the dim light, a mix of defiance and vulnerability that makes my chest ache. Before I can stop myself, I reach out and brush my thumb across her lower lip. Her breath catches.

“I may be a lot of things, Eve. But I will never hurt you.” My voice drops lower as I lean in, drawn by the rapid pulse at her throat. “You’re mine now. My wife. And I protect what’s mine. I don’t hurt it.”

She shivers but doesn’t pull away when I cup her face in my hands. “Zeke.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

The sound of my name on her lips breaks the last thread of my control. I capture her mouth with mine, tasting gin and desire as I kiss her deeply. She makes a small sound of surprise that quickly turns into a moan when I press her back against the desk.

My hands slide down her sides, feeling the delicate lace of her wedding dress beneath my fingers. She responds with unexpected hunger, her fingers gripping my suit jacket as she pulls me closer.

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips along her jaw to her ear. “You’re my wife,” I growl softly, feeling her shudder against me. “And I’m going to treat you as such. No more pushing me away. No more hiding behind that badge or the bottom of a glass.”

Her nails dig into my shoulders through the fabric of my jacket, but she doesn’t deny it. Instead, she tilts her head back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, a silent invitation.

I growl against her throat as I lift her onto the mahogany desk, my hands gripping her thighs. Eve gasps, her head falling back as I push the fabric of her dress up her legs. The scent of her desire mingles with gin and vanilla, driving me wild with need.

“Please,” she whimpers, spreading her thighs wider as I step between them. Her fingers fumble with my belt, desperate and needy. “I need you.”

The sound of her begging sends a surge of possessive hunger through me. I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans.

“Look at me.” I command, waiting until those emerald eyes meet mine. Even glazed with gin and desire, they burn with an intensity that makes my chest tight. “Tell me you want this.”

“Yes,” she breathes, arching into my touch. “God, yes.”

I push her dress higher, exposing more creamy skin to my hungry gaze. Her thighs quiver under my rough hands as I stroke higher, claiming every inch of her. She’s mine now—mywife—and I intend to make her forget every man who came before me.

“Zeke.” She moans my name like a prayer. “Please don’t stop.”

I trail hot kisses down her throat, savoring the rapid flutter of her pulse against my lips. Her skin tastes like salt and sweetness, addictive as any drug. When I bite down gently, she cries out, her hips bucking against me.

The desk creaks beneath us as I press her back, following her down until she’s sprawled across the polished wood. Wedding dress bunched around her waist, she looks like a fallen angel—and I’m the demon about to corrupt her completely.

With a low growl, I grip the delicate lace of her panties and tear them away, exposing her completely to my hungry gaze. She gasps at the sudden exposure, but I don’t give her time to be self-conscious. I drop to my knees, hook her legs over my shoulders, and dive in with fierce determination.

Her taste explodes on my tongue—sweet and tangy and purely Eve. I lap at her greedily, like a man dying of thirst. When I circle her clit with my tongue, her thighs tremble against my shoulders. The little sounds she makes drive me wild—soft whimpers and breathless moans that echo through the dim study.

“Zeke,” she pants, her fingers threading through my hair. The slight pain of her grip only spurs me on. “Oh god.”

I slide two fingers inside her, groaning at how tight and wet she is. Her back arches off the desk as I curl them just right, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. The sound of my name on her lips is sweeter than any music.

“That’s it, love,” I growl against her sensitive flesh. “Let me hear you.”

She writhes beneath my mouth, her wedding dress rustling with each movement. The thought that she’s wearing my ring,that she’s legally mine now, sends a surge of possessive hunger through me. I redouble my efforts, determined to make her come apart.

“No one touches this pussy but me,” I growl between licks. “Ever again.” To emphasize my point, I suck her clit between my lips and flick it with my tongue. Her whole body jerks in response.