After she spits the panties from her mouth, she bares her teeth.
Now I’m thoroughly pissed off and horny for her. My engorged dick throbs, and I can barely think straight.
“You want to fight me, huh?” I grab her chin and mash my body against hers, her heat searing through my clothing everywhere we touch. I want more. I want this woman to come undone at my touch. I want to break her like a shiny new toy. “Think you’re stronger than me?”
She tries to shove me off, but I force her hands away before I shift my grip on her chin and ram my thumb past her parted lips. Her mouth is warm and delicious and fucking tempting.
A warning flashes in her eyes, and I know what it means.
“You want to bite me?” I taunt, my gaze locked on her mouth. “Do it, baby. Hurt me. Make me feel it.”
Her teeth sink into my skin, making me hiss.
She could bite my finger off if she wanted.
I tease her wet slit. “You’re such a wildcat.”
Her back bows when I smack her pussy hard enough to make my own fingers tingle, and then I’m back, smashing my body against hers, replacing my thumb with my tongue. Our kiss is dirty and frenzied, and Cecilia moans and squirms. I trap herwrists above her head with one hand, then dip down to bite her jaw, determined to leave my mark.
Why does she have to smell so fucking good, like late summer evenings and morning dew? Everything about her is untamed perfection. I should’ve never taken her as my wife—it was impulsive—but vengeance is a bloodthirsty hellhound.
I rip open my belt to free my massive dick, and Cecilia licks her lips in anticipation as I stroke the length, holding her wrists against the leather-bound books, close enough for our lips to brush.
“Fuck me, Darian,” she pleads, and it’s not lost on me that she uses my first name.
Pleasure pools low as sweat drips from my temple. Cecilia’s chest heaves with her rapid inhales and exhales.
“Beg again,” I demand, stroking my length in long pulls and darting my tongue out to lick my top lip. “Let me hear how much you want your pussy filled to the brim with my dick.”
She’s staring at my hand on my cock with such longing, a shiver travels up my spine. “Please, Darian, fuck me.”
I wait until her eyes meet mine. “Look at us getting along. Our hypothetical marriage counselor would be proud.” And then I come all over her pussy and stomach.
With a gasp, she looks down at the white ropes of cum squirting from my dick and onto her smooth skin. I lock my jaw, shuddering from the onslaught of my orgasm.
As I catch my ragged breath, I tighten my grip on her wrists, then swipe a finger through my release, drawing battle marks on her cheeks. I like the pink hue of her flushed complexion and the hitch in her breath as I paint the final mark.
Before she can annihilate me with her damn eyes while my guard is down, I step back and tuck my dick away. Collecting her dressing gown, I toss it at her. “I expect you to tidy up the mess you created in the foyer.”
She growls at me, but I’m already gone, retrieving the axe on my way out. “Miss Sanders,” I shout, and she materializes like a genie when I exit the library. “See to it that this door is replaced.”
Ihaven’t seen my husband for days. He’s kept his distance, holed up in his home office, ever since he chased me into the library and left me unsatisfied and enraged. I should be grateful—Iamgrateful—but I’m also bored, having searched every inch of his house for something to use against him. Some kind of clue about what happened to my father. I haven’t seen or heard from Lauren.
“Do I dare ask what you’re doing in Mr. Delacroix’s bedroom?” his secretary, Miss Sanders, asks from the doorway. “You know it’s out of bounds.”
I keep dusting itching powder over his branded underwear. “Oh, I almost forgot my life is aBeauty and the Beastretelling.”
She suppresses a smile. Miss Sanders is actually nice and always immaculately dressed in pencil skirts and matching blouses. “What trouble do you intend to stir today except for making your husband itch?”
Humming, I shut the drawer and spin around in my new Louboutins. “I heard from a fly that he has an important meetingtomorrow about a weapon delivery. According to sources, the Bishop will have everyone’s heads if it falls through.”
“So not only are you eavesdropping, but you also thought you’d make him itch.” She fails to suppress her smile. “You’re on a mission to drive him insane.”
I roll my eyes. “He trapped me in his gilded cage. What does he expect?” Something occurs to me, and I turn my body toward her, feeling strangely fidgety. “Have you and Mr. Delacroix…?” My cheeks heat, but I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“I’m his secretary,” she responds, unable to meet my gaze.
Silence speaks louder than words. My chest tightens, so I clear my throat and breeze past her, handing her the itching powder.
