Faery Wedding(9)

Tilting her head, she kissed him back. Her lips softened under his and clung. He rumbled deep in his throat, a sound of approval. She squeaked as he bent and scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing. Lifting his head, he looked down at her. His heavy-lidded slumberous look promised all sorts of sensual delights for the night ahead, and a lifetime of devotion.

“Say the word, Lady Hunter, and we’re out of here.”

Ash smiled, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and treated him to a hot look from under her lashes. “I thought you’d never ask. Take me home, Lord Hunter. Take me to bed.”

His smile was instant. Heat flared in his eyes as he carried her out of the alcove and toward the door.

The rest of the world fell away as they left the reception. A few catcalls made it through the romantic haze surrounding her, but all her attention was focused on Dev. Settled in his strong arms, she looped her own around his neck and trailed butterfly kisses along his shadowed jaw. She couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t believe that he was all hers and that they were married.

When she’d first seen him before the ceremony, for an instant she’d been convinced he’d come to whisk her away from the hell her life had become. Hope had flared before reality had crashed back down on her and reminded her of the trap she was caught in. Everything had worked out better than she could have imagined.

“Princess,” he warned as they stepped into the lift. “You need to stop that, or we won’t make it to the bridal suite.”

Ash giggled, feeling light-headed with both relief and the sexual tension that stretched out between them. Ignoring his order, she leaned in and nipped his earlobe lightly. He growled again, another warning. She sucked it into her mouth to ease the tiny hurt, flicking her tongue back and forth across the silver earring he wore.

Baiting him like this was dangerous, but she didn’t care. She’d already tasted the ferocity of his passion and wanted more. She wanted to make him lose control and revel in the result. Giggling at yet another warning rumble from his broad chest, she flicked the earring again.

She wasn’t prepared for his reaction. Without warning he turned, dropped one of her legs and pressed her up against the back wall of the lift. She squeaked in surprise as his mouth crashed down on hers, the sound lost under the sensual attack. With a ruthless sweep of his tongue, he parted her lips and drove within. Thrills surged unchecked through her veins, like speedway cars looking for victory. Heat blossomed between her legs as he ground his pelvis against her, the engorged length of his cock pressed where she needed it most.

He twined his tongue with hers, a silent demand for surrender as he covered her smaller body with his own. Pressed between the wall and his solid mass, she had no choice or chance of escape. Not that she wanted any. With a small moan she wrapped herself around him, lifting her leg to hook her ankle around the back of his hips and pull him hard against her.

He groaned low in his throat and tore his lips away. He didn’t go far. His lips traced a line of fiery kisses along her jaw, and, as she tilted her head, along her neck.

“Gods, you’re so sexy. I want you…want to push this pretty dress up—”

Even as he spoke, he was suiting action to words. His hand was under her satin hem, the fabric bunched around his wrist as he stroked along her thigh.

She chuckled, a breathless sound that gave away just how much he affected her. “You did that earlier. I’m going to start thinking you have a fetish about bridal wear.”

He nipped her ear in retaliation for her teasing. She gasped as the tiny pleasure-pain drew a line from her ear right down her body. Her nipples, already beaded under her heavily embroidered bodice, throbbed. Sensual images filled her mind; Dev pushing the thin straps off her shoulders to roll the bodice down, tucking the cups of her bra back…leaning down, his hair black against the creaminess of her skin as he took a rose-tinted nipple into his mout—

“Hey! Cut that out!” she gasped, the mental images he was feeding her enough to make her almost come there and then.

“I don’t have a fetish about bridal wear. I just have a fetish about you.” His breath was hot against her ear, a strained note in his voice that told her he was riding the edge of his control. “I need you, Ash. Need to be inside you, my cock filling your tight little cunt over and over again until you scream my name.”

Trying to conceal the heat and wickedness that filled her, she pursed her lips as the door behind them pinged their arrival. Instantly he released her, her skirts falling down around her as he set her back on her feet.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a while,” she informed him over her shoulder as she walked out of the lift. “A lady needs time to…ah, powder her nose. Perhaps take a shower and a little nap—”