Page 25 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

SIXTEEN

TELL ME

LONI

“ S o 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 hated him .

Instead, I mourn the loss of his possessive touch on my skin, and the unexpected grief has me pushing him, even though I know—we both know—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 you crave the 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 damn earnest .

I hate it.

This game of his, that I’ve got any power… that I rule him… is laughable. He’s one of the Owed. An Offering is nothing but that. 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 your mouth .”

“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 fucking smirk again.

“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.

Adrian dives right in. The curls on my pussy doesn’t bother him.

The fact that I probably should’ve shaved a couple of days ago but didn’t…

he couldn’t care less. Within seconds, he’s already screwed up the unsaid ‘no hand’s mandate since he’e using his fingers to open my pussy wide as he devours it, but as the pleasure washes over me, I can’t find it in me to care.

Adrian was must first in this, too. It wasn’t often that we had enough time where he could spread me out and lazily feast on my pussy, but I remember the few times he did even now.

But this… I try not to think about how many other woman he ate out to make him this impressive at the act, but, God, does he know what he’s doing.

Within minutes, I’ve given up on keeping my hands away from him, too. I have one hand in his hair, guiding him to go where it feels the best, while my other hand plays with my nipple, enjoying the sensation of having Adrian Heller’s body between my thighs.

And then he stops.

Just stops.

I could fucking kill him for stopping.

“What are you doing? I was just about to come!”

“I know,” he answers simply. His smirk has transformed to a wicked grin. “Tell me you love me.”

What?

“Tell me, Loni.”

He flicks my clit.

I shake my head, refusing him. That’s not enough to help me finish, but I just… I can’t .

He dips his finger inside of me, pulling it out just as quickly. “Tell me you love me.”

“No.”

A quick slap to my mound. The jolt has me gasp, but I. Need. More.

“All you have to do is say three little words, princess. I know you can do it.” He dips his head, lapping at my pussy leisurely while I’m plotting murder in my feverish brain. “You used to tell me that you loved me all the time.”

“I lied .”

He chuckles and, damn it, that’s still not enough. “Please. Don’t you remember? I know when you’re lying. You weren’t then. You are now.”

“Fuck you!”

“Loni, Loni, Loni… I’m trying. But you said no sex?—”

I grit my teeth. “Then what the hell is this?”

“I call this teasing my wife until she admits what we both know: she loves me now. She loved me then. She’ll love me forever.”

He punctuates each of those statements with another devastating lick.

Damn it.

He’s won.

Okay?

He won.

All I need is a little stimulation. And if he’ll give it to me?

“I love you,” I snap, grabbing the back of his head, shoving it against my pussy. I writhe against his face, searching for that little something I need to go off, hoping that I can before he makes me repeat myself. “Okay?”

His answer is a muffled, “Good enough,” before he sucks my clit into his mouth and the orgasm is so fucking great, I almost forgive him for the way he manipulated me this time.

Almost.

As soon as I begin to recover from my climax, a desire to show him that turnabout is fair play has me reaching for him.

Before he can even guess that I’m going to, I grab his cock. Then, to both of our surprise, I drop my head to his lap, kissing his dick.

“Loni?”

“Mm?”

“You… you don’t have to do that. I gave you head because I wanted to.”

No. He gave me head because he wanted to deny me my orgasm until he made me say words I’m not sure I’ll ever easily tell him on my own.

“It didn’t expect you to return the favor,” he continues.

I’m not.

“Just evening the score, Adrian.” I lick the head. “Now tell me you love me.”

“Oh, princess. You don’t have to work this hard to get me to tell you what anyone with eyes can see. I fucking worship you.”

Oh. In that case… I sit up, leaving his erection straining toward me as I rest on my heels.

His eyes go panicked. “What the hell are you doing? Get back over her.” He angles his dick at me. “Suck me.”

“No, thanks.”

Adrian growls. He fucking growls . “Suck your husband, Avalon.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You said you wanted my mouth on you. I’ll fuck your pretty pussy with my tongue.

I’ll lap at your tits. I’ll suck your nipples until you’re climbing on top of me, fucking yourself with my cock, looking for any relief.

And then, when you head for the shower again…

because I know you, princess… and I know how much it turns you on to have me at your mercy…

I’ll do it all over again. But while I’ll be a selfless lover for you, my wife, sometimes I’ll beg to have your mouth on me. This? This is one of those times.”

Well. When he puts it like that…

“You’re right, Adrian,” I admit. “I really do love having you at my mercy.”

And, to prove it, I grab his cock again.

He throws back his head, shuddering as a bead of pre-come appears at the tip.

I squeeze him at the base.

He’s panting now.

“Please,” he whispers, and I’d be a heartless bitch if I ignored the need in his tone. He’s not commanding like before. He’s begging .

I bow my head, swirling my tongue around the tip of his cock again, gathering up the salty pre-come. I swallow while running my fingers up and down the length of his shaft.

He jerks in my hold, and I squeeze again.

Getting the hint, he settles down on the bed again, and I… fuck it. I start sucking his dick for real.

“That’s it. Oh, Loni… my good girl. My good fucking girl. Yes. Just like that… yes— no. What are you doing?”

I’ve taken him out of the heat of my mouth, that’s what I did.

I bat my lashes at him. “Quick question, baby.” It just slips out, but in the moment… the pet name I gave him in the quiet of empty classrooms after school fits . “What will you give me if I let you come?”

“Anything,” he pants. He jerks his hip. “Whateer the fuck you want, Loni, it’s yours .”

I’ll remember that.

He thinks he can control me because he wears the Order’s brand? Well, then I guess I’ll just have to control him by his cock.

It’s the only leverage I have.

So I use it. Alternating between lap at the head of his cock, sucking him deep, playing his balls, and stroking him with as tight a grip as I can manage, I worship his cock, enjoying the way he pants my name like it’s his favorite prayer.

“Fuck me,” he hisses, propping himself up on his elbow. “Holy shit. You got a mouth like a fucking vacuum cleaner, you know that?”

I smile around his dick.

He palms the back of my head, guiding me to take him deeper. Since his touch is gentle rather than demanding, I let him. The groan that escapes him when I hollow my cheeks, sucking a good three, four inches of him?

It’s music to my ears.

I keep going until Adrian starts bucking his hips a little, fucking my mouth. I know him. I know the signs that he’s about to come, and though he untangles his fingers from my hair, I surprise the both of us by letting him explode right into my mouth.

After I swallow, I rise up on my knees, thumbing some stray come away from the corner of my mouth.

The daze in his soft green eyes disappears almost immediately. Almost warily, he asks, “What is it you want from me, Loni?”

“Nothing,” I tell him, I mean it.

Honestly? I just wanted to have him at my mercy for once like he said—and, boy, did I.

Adrian isn’t an idiot. He accepts that answer readily, a single caress down my sweat-slicked side a silent ‘thank you’.

I curl up, my back to him, hiding my satisfied smile.

Panting softly, still lying on his back beside me, Adrian has only one last comment for me tonight: “Heading to the shower?”

Nah. Not tonight. “No need,” I tell him.

I’m not sure how he interprets that. Am I avoiding the same thing that happened two weeks ago when he followed me into the shower, losing all control, and fucking me under the shower spray? Or have I—for tonight at least—gotten over my irrational urge to wash him off after we’ve been intimate?

It doesn’t matter. Either way, he squeezes my hip. “Ready to sleep?”

With the endorphins rushing through me. “Yeah.”

It takes a little effort since his legs are probably weak as hell, but Adrian eventually gets up, turning off all of the lights.

Climbing back into the bed, he drapes his arm over me, snuggling close.

It’s still undeniably warmer in here than normal, the heat of his skin on mine burns me up…

but I don’t push him away even as he mumbles softly, “Love you, my wife.”

I don’t answer him.

But I don’t tell him that I hate him again, either.

Why bother? He’ll only tell me in that smug tone of his that I’m lying.

And, damn it, he’d be right .