Page 27

What was the polite amount of time to spend at one’s own wedding before bailing?

Emmy looked fucking edible, and Rocco couldn’t wait to unwrap his husband from the expensive fabric trailing on the floor behind them.

Putting a hand to the small of Emmy’s back, he directed them both toward the bar.

It was a tortuously slow walk as each person they passed stopped them to wish them well.

Finally, when they hadn’t made it more than six feet, Cal appeared before them with two glasses of ice-cold whiskey that he pressed into their hands.

“Congrats, guys. I can’t believe what you managed to do here, Rocco. The illusions are incredible.”

“Wouldn’t have been possible without your awesome space, man. And I had some help from one of our earth witches growing the plants.”

A loud whistle sounded from one of the platforms, drawing his attention up to where Blaze was standing.

“We’ve got one more surprise for you before you dance the night away, folks,” his prez called .

“That’s my cue,” Cal said, and Rocco felt the flaring presence of his water magic as he waved a hand and the roof of the club started to retract until all they could see above them were the stars in the night sky.

The lights all flicked off simultaneously, dropping them into darkness.

A murmur went up from the crowd as the burn of fire magic filled the room.

Two arcing streaks of flame shot up from opposite sides of the club into the air before colliding high above them in a kaleidoscope of colourful fireworks that burned far longer than human-made ones ever could.

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor for our relationship?” Emilio asked quietly, sparking a laugh from Rocco.

When he glanced over at his husband’s face, it was lit up by the fiery sky above them.

“Dangerously beautiful?” Rocco asked.

“I was going to go with lethally combustible.”

“Same thing.”

As the flames finally faded, sparks drifted down in strings to light what must be a thousand candles that now occupied the floating platforms that had been redistributed above them.

Cal closed the roof over once the display was finished, preserving them from the winter cold, and the music started back up.

“Impressive,” Emmy said as Blaze came to join them.

“Only the best for my people.”

“And yet he doesn’t even have a road name,” Emmy pointed out.

Rocco couldn’t help but fall a little harder for the shifter as his puppy challenged his president over the perceived slight.

“How about we call him Monroe for that stunt he pulled with your tux while you were going up the aisle?” Blaze offered.

“Fuck off,” Rocco said as Emmy threw back his head and howled with laughter .

He couldn’t be too mad at Blaze when it sparked that kind of reaction in his husband. It wasn’t often he saw Emmy let go like that.

“The name he goes by is already a type of wind. Didn’t seem right to come up with something else,” Blaze explained once Emmy’s laughter calmed.

“Really?” Rocco asked.

Blaze looked at him with surprise. “Yeah. Did you think you were still on probation or something?”

“No. I didn’t know what to think.”

“Would I put on fireworks for just anyone? I’m not a damn circus performer. You’re one of us, brother. Same as anyone else,” Blaze said, clasping his shoulder before heading back toward the bar.

“Yeah, and now Emilio is, too,” someone muttered from behind them.

Spinning, Rocco glared at a woman he didn’t know—one of Emilio’s pack.

“What did you say?” he growled at the woman.

“Rocco, it’s fine,” Emilio said, tugging on his hand.

“I said, now he’s one of you. Married instead of mated like a good little human. At least his dad did it properly.”

Reaching for his magic, Rocco used his power to grab the woman by the throat, pinning her arms to her side as he dragged her up until her toes were barely brushing the ground.

Her reflexes weren’t as quick as they should’ve been.

She’d managed to down enough of the shifter-strength booze on offer that she was actually inebriated.

That was no fucking excuse. It just meant she was spewing the poisonous thoughts she usually kept inside.

The witches around them sensed his magic and turned to face them. The wolves, too. A bubble of tension surrounded them as both sides glared at each other.

“Rocco, let her go, please. I’ll deal with her,” Marco growled, his eyes promising retribution for the packmate who’d insulted his blood family as he strode over from where he’d been in conversation with the mayor.

Somewhere to his left, a delighted chuckle sounded. He glared over to find a group of vampire coven members watching on with amusement. Fuck. They were supposed to be reassuring the Council that they were stable, not about to start a war.

Leaning into his side, Emilio pressed a kiss to his throat and then down his jaw, dragging his face around until he was looking down into his husband’s eyes.

“She doesn’t matter. Let her go.” Emilio’s eyes glittered with mischief as he followed the words up with another intoxicating squeeze of his inner muscles around the plug he was still wearing.

It was all Rocco could do not to throw the man over his shoulder as the erection he’d been sporting all night throbbed in response.

He almost came from nothing but that ghost of feeling around his cock.

Walking down the aisle with the sensation of being inside his mate’s body had been a sensual torture he’d barely managed to contain. He was done behaving.

Without even deigning to look at the woman, he released her from his hold and let her collapse to the ground before scooping Emmy up into his arms and heading toward the exit.

The catcalls of their guests followed them as they made their way out, and sparkling droplets of fire and water scattered around them like a magical rice toss, leaving a soft glow on each person they touched.

They were spending their wedding night in Emilio’s loft.

None of them wanted to risk the security concerns of a hotel, and neither he nor his husband had been interested in dealing with the pack or the MC the next morning.

As Rocco deposited Emilio in the driver’s seat of the car, he couldn’t help but lean in close, inhaling deep breaths of his mate’s scent as he ran his teeth up his neck.

“Get in or we won’t be leaving anytime soon,” Emilio said through gritted teeth.

Buckling his seat belt for him, Rocco gently shut the door before sliding over the bonnet of the car so they could get fucking moving already. His husband huffed a laugh as they pulled away from the club, and Rocco flashed him a grin.

“What? I’m not too proud to admit I’m desperate for you.”

Emilio shifted in his seat as he drove well over the speed limit to get them home. Rocco tipped his head back with a groan as the magic that let him feel the sensations from the toy inside his husband throbbed.

“You’ve been edging me all damn night.”

“I’ve been edging myself,” Emilio muttered.

Rocco couldn’t help but laugh again at the look of annoyance on his husband’s face. “You going to let us do something about it?”

“I’m not going to bite you,” Emilio warned.

Rocco looked away, hiding the hurt he knew better than to feel at the rejection. Whatever. His puppy would soon learn he wasn’t going to give up on them.

“Do you want me to restrain you so you can’t?” Rocco asked. “Put you on your hands and knees so all you can do is take it?”

The tightening around his cock from the magical link intensified, and he groaned again, his hips arching up to seek a friction that, frustratingly, wasn’t there.

“Show me,” Emmy whispered.

“Show you what?”

Another groan left him as Emmy reached over with one hand and started tugging at his belt, undoing his pants and pulling his leaking, aching cock out to sit obscenely against his white tux.

Resisting the urge to grip his shaft and start stroking, he turned toward his husband and reached out to trail a fingernail down the edge of his ear, sliding it down his throat to press on the bruise he’d left there.

Emmy’s foot pressed down hard on the accelerator and the car shot forward, weaving through traffic.

“Watch the road, puppy,” Rocco said, smirking as Emmy’s eyes kept dropping back to his cock.

With another low growl, Emmy jerked the steering wheel to turn into their parking garage, braking hard enough to throw Rocco against his seatbelt.

His husband was in his lap before the engine even had time to stop, straddling his legs and shoving his face into the base of his neck to draw in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Need you, you asshole,” Emmy growled, rocking his hips against his still-exposed cock.

Rocco moaned, somehow having the strength of will to undo his seatbelt, open the door and manoeuvre them out of the car.

All without ever letting his husband go.

Emmy’s legs wrapped around his waist as he stood, his arm muscles deliciously straining from the effort of holding him up.

He could’ve used his power to help, but he was enjoying the sensation too much.

He might only be human, but he was still strong enough to manhandle a five-foot-eleven muscled wolf shifter.

Emmy’s mouth latched onto the hickey he’d sucked into his skin earlier, making the ache even deeper as he pushed his lengthening fangs against his neck in a sharp tease for them both.

“Fuck,” Emmy swore, tearing himself away and trying to slide down Rocco’s body to the ground.

Rocco just tightened his grip and strode up the stairs to their loft, barely taking the time to lock the door behind them before heading straight for the bedroom.

Tossing Emmy onto the bed, he shrugged off his jacket, letting the designer piece pool on the floor.

Emmy sat up on his elbows in a pool of black fabric, golden eyes tracking his every move as he toed off his socks and shoes so he could finally ditch the pants Emmy had already undone in the car.