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It doesn’t matter what he did at the club.

This is different.

This is the thing that apparently means something. I’m not even sure it ever did. I just never did it. Never got the chance, never met the right guy.

Except now it’s the most life-changing moment. It means the world, and it’s with him.

The wrong man.

Who somehow seems so right.

A dark waving lock of hair hangs down over his face as those indigo blue eyes search my face, and he smiles.

It breaks something in me.

Pushes at my heart.

But he’s not ever getting in there. He doesn’t want in there, anyway.

He can have my body, soul, but not my heart. That’s mine.

Callahan kisses me softly, brushes his lips over my eyelids, then back down to my mouth where he trails kisses to my ear. “Ready, Lucie Joy?”

“Yes.”

He slides a hand down the side of my face and my breath hitches. I want… I want my wedding night. A real one. With messy sex and me getting lost in him. I want to leave this bed a woman.

Trite, stupid, but I don’t care.

His hand keeps traveling lower, then slips between my thighs, his fingers delicate over the folds of my pussy, not touching my clit.

“I was going to prepare you, but you’re so fucking wet.” Callahan laughs softly. “Like a dripping faucet.”

“I’m sorry?—”

He snatches his hand back and grabs my face, and I can smell my juices on him. “Don’t you ever fucking apologize to me about wanting sex, about being so hot and wet. Being wet is a turn-on. It means you’re ready, it announces your want. It’s an ego stroker for any man.”

“What if I’m wet for everyone?”

He nuzzles his lips close to my ear as his hand returns between my legs. “Then I’ll have to kill everyone.”

I want to laugh, but I can’t because I think he’s serious.

He’s stroking me, his fingers sliding inside, scissoring and stretching me and it’s good. So good. “I’m big. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want you now.”

His smile’s back as his eyes glint. “Pushy little lass, aren’t you? Wrap your legs around me.”

I do, and he withdraws his fingers and then the head of his cock pushes at me.

“Oh.” The first piercing drags and there’s a pinch of pain as I sharply stretch, and then the first rung. “Oh!”

“I’m going slow.”

And he does. Inch by inch, he sinks into me, and somewhere the pinching and burning stops and a sweet stretch takes over. I’m full, getting fuller, and those piercings touch everywhere.

When his balls graze me and it’s almost uncomfortable, his cock pushes up against something. He settles over me and I start to move.