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I glanced up at him, taking a sip of champagne and wincing at its sweetness. “Sick of me already?”
Miz replied with a throaty sound. “I’d spend my life with you if you let me.”
“Who says I won’t?”
His eyes softened, icy blue but unfathomably warm. “Let’s go. You’ve shown your support of Honey.”
“I don’t feel good about leaving her with Alastor” I admitted, glancing at the stage.
“Why?” Miz’s tone changed, like sharp steel. “Has he done something to you?”
“It’s fine. It was only once, and he’s stayed away from me ever since—”
A lethal sound rattled his throat and he jerked forward, like he’d rip Alastor limb from limb right here, with an audience. I caught his sleeve and held it tight.
“Don’t. Miz, please. I need you here with me.”
His wrathful expression didn’t change, but he stopped charging through the crowd. “Fine, but I want you as far away from him as possible. And he will meet the consequences of harming you.” He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, a strange mix of affection and murder in his eyes. “No one hurts my wife.”
I swooned, even with my heart broken over Byron’s lies—and the texts he’d ignored from both me and Honey tonight.
“Not going to beg me to spare him?” Miz asked, a black eyebrow raised.
“No,” I replied, and watched his eyes flash.
His arm tightened around me, drawing me closer so his lips could brush my ear. “The only reason I’m not ripping that beguiling dress off you right here, in front of all these people, and fucking you until you scream my name for all to hear, is because I don’t want him to see.”
I sucked in a breath, tingles rushing down my neck and across my chest.
“Otherwise,” he continued, not entirely keeping his voice down, “you’d be gasping as you struggled to take my cock all the way inside your hot little cunt right now. I wouldn’t give you time to adjust, or make sure you’re ready for me. I’d take you the way I want, because you—” He bit my ear lobe. “Are.” Scraped his teeth down my throat. “Mine.”
“Oh, god,” I gasped.
I caught Honey’s gaze when Miz drew back, looking far too pleased with how affected I was, and I gave her a silent signal that I was leaving. Are you okay? I asked with a look.
I’m fine, go be ravished by your hot husband, she replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Let’s go,” I said and caught Miz’s hand, leading him through the crowd and into the sharp cold. The sun had mostly set now, and a low mist had crept in, weaving around the trunks of evergreens, obscuring the pegs holding up the marquee until it looked like a scene from a fairy tale. Around us, the fog in the air caught the glow of fairy lights and diffused it until the whole space was full of hazy, magical illumination. It was romantic, and the perfect place to stop and tug Miz close for a slow, heated kiss.
“I’m going to bury myself so deep inside you that you’ll never get me out,” he panted against my lips, his eyes like shadowed ice. “I’m going to fill every aching, desperate hole in your body until you’re wrecked and messy and pleading with me to stop. I’ll write my name on your pussy in my cum and you can write your name wherever you want in my blood—”
“I’m not making you bleed,” I breathed, my head spinning, my pussy pounding with head and furious need.
“Spoilsport,” he said with a pout. “You’ve drawn my blood once before.”
“I hated you then.”
His eyes softened, lights twinkling in their depths. “But not anymore?”
“No,” I said, linking my hands behind his neck. “Not anymore.”
He dipped his head for another kiss, but jerked back with a low, threatening sound. “There. The one you call the Assassin.”
My breath caught, the sudden chill clearing out the heat of our kisses, and I saw what Miz had seen—a cloaked, hooded figure slinking down the side of the marquee and into the shadows.
I didn’t stop to think; I chased after them, my heart pounding in my chest. Please don’t be Byron, please don’t be—
I skidded around the side of the marquee, Miz catching me before I tripped, and stared at the empty space. “He’s playing with us.”
