Page 22 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

THIRTEEN

THE SHOWER

ADRIAN

O h, fuck no.

I usually pride myself on self control, but when it comes to Loni, I don’t have any at all.

I don’t know where I went wrong. The whole time I was touching her, she seemed into it. She was as receptive as she used to be, and for a moment there, I felt like I was eighteen again, touching my first pussy and hoping like hell not to embarrass myself by coming all over my lower belly.

I wasn’t full of shit when I told her I sleep naked.

Now, could I have made an exception like I did her first night here?

Of course. But with Jack’s words from last Wednesday still ringing in my ears, there was no time to ease her into wanting to be my wife.

The Claiming ceremony is in six weeks. I need Loni to be so addicted to me by then, the idea that she could choose another Owed won’t even cross her mind.

Manipulating her body’s response to me worked before. I know how to make her feel good, and even if her heart takes a little longer to get in line, if I have her pussy, I can have Loni.

So I seduced her. It made it even better that the more experienced Loni knew exactly what I was doing because that meant she made a conscious decision to let me.

In the moment, I wanted to touch her so deeply, fuck her any way I could, just to get her to forget anyone else she ever had while we were apart.

But I screwed up somehow. I thought that by giving her an orgasm and forsaking any pleasure of my own would soften Loni toward me, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. With the evidence of her arousal still on my fingers, she slipped out of my bed.

Shower.

She’s going to take a shower.

Like she needs to rinse me off of her. As if she wants to forget the feel of my touch on her skin.

As if pleasure between a husband and his wife is somehow dirty .

Yeah.

Fuck, no.

I scoot my ass across the bed, ignoring the ache in my balls as my erection bobs, bumping into my hip. I know exactly which of the four bathrooms in the house is Loni’s preferred one and I all but jog right to it.

If she’d locked the door, I would’ve kicked the damn thing down. That she didn’t bother tells me that she either expected as much from me, or she didn’t care that I might follow after her.

Hoping it’s the second, I throw open the door.

The shower spray is already on. I see her outline on the frosted glass door, furiously scrubbing her body.

Later, I’ll blame that sight on everything that happens next.

Sliding open the door, I join Loni in the shower. She squeals, spinning around to face me. The soap bar drops from her hand. Her arms go up, covering her bare tits and the curls of her pussy.

Please. As if I haven’t seen her naked before…

“Adrian? What are you doing here?”

My voice thrums with dark possession. “Turn around, Loni. Face the wall.”

“Adrian—”

It’s guttural now. “I said, turn around.” When she does, slowly , I wait until her ass is in front of me before I drop my hands to her hips. “Place your palms against the wall. I’ve got you, but I don’t want you to slip.”

This time, she obeys me a lot faster. She slaps her palms against the tile, the position forcing her to either bend over or arch her ass out. As though she knows what’s coming, she chooses the latter.

She swivels her head, damp hair falling over her shoulder as she glares up at me. “What’s the matter, Adrian?” she says, the taunt in her angry voice evident. “Did you realize that I forgot to get you off and now you’re here because I’m easy and available?”

Easy… when Desmond want’s calling Loni a whore, he was telling everyone she was the easiest girl in Harmony Heights. It didn’t matter that she never slept with him . That she slept with anyone at all made her worthless in his eyes.

If I hadn’t killed him, he could be enjoying Loni’s lithe body right now.

That image suddenly seared in my mind, more than anything else, is the reason why I grab my cock, place the tip at the entrance to Loni’s cunt, and wait.

She doesn’t try to get away. She doesn’t shriek or do anything other than scoff.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

But she’s wrong.

“Not even close, princess,” I grate out, resisting the urge to just slam into her.

“I could give a fuck if I get off tonight. Me and my hand are old pals. I can take care of myself. But you… you let me get you off, then headed for the shower. I wasn’t done with you.

I figured, maybe this was your way of inviting me in. ”

Another scoff. “You can’t honestly believe that.”

I wish I could. When the alternative is that she needed to wash me off of her…

I push a little, seating myself inside of her. Loni goes up on her tiptoes, adjusting just enough to take it.

“If you want me to stop, tell me ‘stop’. Tell me to get the fuck out. But if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you until you remember every goddamn time I had you under me. I’m taking you up on that invitation that’s only in my head. So if you don’t want to fuck your husband, tell me.”

She shudders. “I thought you were going to wait.”

Another inch goes in. “A week is pretty long enough.”

Loni pushes back, taking even more. “You’re not supposed to force your wife to fuck you.”

“I’m not. I’ll withdraw at anytime, but maybe you could stop sucking me in.” I lower my head, allowing the shower spray to hit my back as I nip at her throat. “God, I fucking missed this. It’s like a vice. You take me so well and I’m only halfway in. Keep going, Loni. That’s a good girl.

“What? So you can tell everyone I wanted it?”

I pause. “Don’t you?”

Her arms tremble. Her body shivers.

And she snaps, “ Yes .”

That’s all I need.

One thrust and I’m fully seated inside of her. She moans, the music a symphony accompanied by the shower hitting the stall beneath our feet. The rhythm of my heart chimes in, pounding, frantic, fast , just like the rhythm of my dick fucking Loni again and again.

I wait for her to say ‘stop’, but she doesn’t. She clutches the tiles, fingers slipping off of the wall, but my grip on her hips keeps her in place. Honestly, she could let go and just hang there, and not a goddamn thing in this would could stop me.

Except for one little word that she never utters.

I knew I wouldn’t last. It’s been too long, and I needed this too much. Luckily for me, the orgasm I gave Loni in the bedroom has her primed like a rocket. In minutes, she’s panting, moaning, squealing as I give her a second one.

I follow right behind her. Changing my hold from her hips to her shoulders, slamming her down on my cock so that there’s no escape from me as I come, I squeeze her to me until the aftershocks stop shuddering down my spine.

The second I release my iron-tight grip on Loni, a change comes over her. She stiffens, then straightens, and turns so that she’s facing the shower spray. Without even looking up at me, she gathers some of the water in her cupped palm, then splashes it at her pussy.

And the same sensation that came over me when she said she was going to take a shower has kicked aside my post-nut clarity.

Again. She’s washing me off of her again .

I let her finish, and when she turns off the shower, I wait until she’s left the stall before I do.

Then I point behind me at it, doing my best not to let the rejection color my words anymore than it already will.

“Let me make this perfectly clear: anytime you wash me off of you like this, like you’re regretting being intimate with your husband, I’ll mark you again.

There won’t ever be a time that your body doesn’t know that it’s mine .

You understand me? I’ll fuck you until you’re begging me to let you come, and when you do, you’ll plead for more until I’m dripping out of you. ”

She swallows roughly. “Even if I say no?”

I lift an eyebrow at her. “If I have you under me again, do you really think you will?”

Her expression is scandalized a split second before she turns around, giving me her back. A soft sob escapes her, but when I grab her arm, whirling her around to face me, all I see is hatred and defiance returned to her pretty, pretty face.

Damn it.

“You got what you wanted. Now let me go.”

See, that’s where she’s wrong. I didn’t get what I wanted at all. If I did? She would be falling into my arms right now instead of looking like she’d slash me with a razor if I gave her the chance.

I messed up. Not even because I fucked her, though I’d bet she’d say I’m wrong if I told her that. Loni… she was more than willing to fuck me. She could’ve told me to stop, but she didn’t, and I know damn well that’s because she both knew it would happen eventually, and she was waiting for it.

I wasn’t wrong about that. If I got her under me with the intent to fuck, we’re going to fuck.

She would always accept me in the throes.

I know her body too well. I can manipulate it to have her mewling beneath me, until the word ‘no’ never crosses her lips.

Look at just now. The only words I heard during our fast and frantic fucking were my name and ‘please’.

She knows it, too, and that is why she’s furious with me.

And while I don’t point out any of that to her, I do say, “Don’t try to fool either of us, Loni. We were meant to be together. So there were others. I bet you thought of me when they were fucking you.”

“Adrian—”

My voice becomes darker. Deeper. “I think that every love that came after me was a disappointment because you… your body… it’s always craved mine.”

Her eyes flash angrily. “You’re being a dick.”

“And you didn’t disagree.”

“Fuck you, Adrian.” She grabs a towel, covering herself up with it. “I’m going to bed. And if you try to touch me again? You won’t see me in your room again until next Tuesday.”

I guess I should be relieved that she’s not using my momentary insanity to escape to her private room. Instead, she gathers up her pajamas and, without a look back, marches down the hall toward the room we had both just left.

I let her go, cursing myself as she leaves.

She didn’t want to sleep with me. Or, rather, she had no intentions of letting me inside of her so soon.

But once I was touching her, she started touching me, and then she tried to act like she couldn’t wash me off of her fast enough…

and the same Adrian I was as a kid, the cocky prick who thought I could do a piss-poor job of hiding just how much Loni Dougherty meant to me with a cool smirk and a cruel comment couldn’t handle the rejection coming from the only person in this world I actually cared about.

But I’m fucked up. I always have been. I show love in the worst ways, and while I tried to fix myself over the years, become the man Loni deserves… what just happened in the shower tells me that I have a long fucking way to go.

God, I need a cigarette.

The need for nicotine beats inside of me like a drum. But then I think about how I’ve used my willingness to give up my smokes to kiss her whenever I had the chance and that she’s been letting me … and fuck the cigarette.

Luckily, I have other ways to work out my aggression. A round in the building’s gym, beating the shit out of the punching bag, might do me wonders.

Even if it only makes me more pissed off that, when I stalk past our bedroom, she doesn’t stop me to ask me where I’m going.