Page 49 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

“I think my bride’s tired. We’ll have time to catch up and celebrate later,” I say.

Grabbing her hand, her other full of the bouquet Harry gave her, I drag her from the room. There’s an elevator, but we barely use it, so I head for the stairs.

“Let go,” she hisses, trying to free herself from my grip.

“But… it’s your wedding,” Harry says, her voice trailing after us.

I don’t say a word until we reach the top floor. My bedroom suite that used to house Callahan and Lucie is open, the lights low and the king bed I prefer to sleep on is now decked out in white.

There are flowers, and a soft breeze plays with the curtains from the Juliet balcony I never open.

I’m not sure who the culprit is, but my money’s on my two sisters-in-law. What am I even thinking… of course it was them. No one else would do this.

“Let. Me. Go.” Her eyes spark pure, white-hot flames.

I put my hand to my heart. “I never got to kiss the bride.”

“Don’t,” she says through gritted teeth. “I don’t want you to.”

I still have her hand in mine, so I pull her in against me. It’s heat lightning when we connect. She molds herself against me and I’m hard in an instant.

“You do,” I say. “You just don’t like me for reasons I have yet to uncover.”

She slides her hand up over my shoulder and into my hair. I do the same to her, and I wrap the loose strands that are warm like silk around my fingers, close to her scalp, and I pull, dragging her head back.

Ava gasps, eyelids fluttering as she parts her lips. It’s an invitation that’s almost impossible to deny.

But I let go and push her away. Now her eyes fly open wide, and there’s pure murder glittering in the depths.

And I grin. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Of course, no means no.”

“I didn’t say no,” she says, voice a growl.

She’s breathing fast, uneven, as she strips off the top layer of her dress, and I have to stifle a groan. The dress is more like a tight silky slip than a dress. And it sets off fantasies. Mainly because now her nipples are displayed. Hard and pushing tight against the thin material.

I circle her, coming in close just to breathe in the addictive night jasmine and spice of her. “You did. You said you didn’t want me to.”

“That’s not a no. I hate you with every last part of me. But it wasn’t a no.”

I stop, come in close, lips hovering close to hers. “Why, because we’re married?”

“Gotta make the best of it.”

“To keep me happy?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your happiness, but if I’m trapped, so are you.”

I run my tongue over her lips, torturing myself, torturing her. “I could change my mind anytime and walk out the door of this union.”

“You can’t. It’s why I signed the prenup. Twelve months. Or you give me two million dollars. It said so. I walk, I get nothing. The year’s up and I get nothing. But you… if you walk, you owe me that.”

The one small clause I added. Honey to the pot. And she’s there, lapping it up.

She’ll never let that happen, though, because she wants her bratva too much. But I wanted her to think she could get the upper hand.

“So what’s the problem?” I slip fingers down her cheek, pushing one of the thin straps, along with the cream strap of her bra, off her shoulder. “You didn’t say no.”

I go to kiss her, but she spins away, breathing hard.