Page 116 of Badly Behaved


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It’s been hours since my man became my husband and still, we’ve yet to have a chance to sneak away, but Sienna is now home safe, the lights have begun to dim, and the staff has unlocked the vending machine holding all the glow-in-the-dark body paints, so I know it’s close.

But if my husband thinks he’s painting me tonight, he’s dead wrong, and if Arsen and Beretta think we’re sharing the back room for some fun on my wedding night, they’re just as fucking crazy.

Right as I’m thinking it, I slip from the door, and not a second after I do the soft fabric gently drops over my head covering my face. My hands are bound together and I’m lifted off my feet by not one, but three sets of hands.

This time I don’t kick and scratch, though.

I chuckle, relaxing in their hands and their husky laughs warm my chest.

They still love their games, even though the rules changed a long time ago.

I know we’re headed into the back, windowless room before the door is unlocked and I’m carried inside, and I know as they set me down that when I remove the silken sack from my head, they won’t be in front of me. Or they will, but I won’t see them until they open their eyes.

What they don’t know is I had a surprise planned for my husband. I admit, this is almost better.

Maybe I subconsciously expected this tonight, and it’s a little thing called full circle, but I know my man, and I know what will follow.

So, I slowly slide the thing off my head, but I keep my eyes closed tight, holding in my laugh, knowing full well the extent of their synchronization. I know they waited exactly five seconds to sharply snap their eyes open to tease me with their glowing gazes.

So when Ransom’s sharp demand of “open your eyes, Trouble” comes, my laughter slips free.

I spin and he hears it, but he doesn’t see it—this room was purposely designed to block out every single hint of light for nights we wish to play.

An arm shoots out, latching on to mine and I smirk into the darkness.

I could pick his hands out of hundreds by now, so I know it’s him, but if I couldn’t, the feel of his ring would give him away, and suddenly I’m done teasing.

I spin so Ransom releases me and am now facing in their direction. After an internal count to three, I flick my eyes open.

My core clenches at the short-hissed breaths along the room.

I look from one to the next, meeting their tantalizing, glow-in-the-dark turquoise contacts... with a hot pink pair of my own.

Ransom jerks forward, his rough, strong hands gripping my face tight as he tears me to him.

His excitement strains against his black dress pants, pressing hard against my abdomen and I smile into the darkness.

“Baby,” he groans, his palms gliding into my hair.

The boys know what we need, both laughing the second Ransom snaps “Out” and they’re already opening the door.

Ransom doesn’t wait for it to close but is already clawing at my bare back with one hand, pulling my lips against his with the other.

He kisses me raw, heated, and full, and when his fingers find the zipper of my dress, my mouth curls into a smile he feels. He tugs back, his eyes on mine.

I let him unzip the thing over my ass, but when his fingertips come up to my shoulders to help the dress from my body, I step back.

He allows it, waiting, knowing more is coming

With slow movements I let it fall from my skin, and he sucks in a harsh breath as it pools around my feet.

The dress didn’t allow for a bra, but the pasties I used are star-shaped and the exact shade of hot pink as my eyes are glowing... as is the thong and thigh garment I’m wearing. I’ve got glow-in-the-dark glitter strategically streaked along the curve of my waist, breasts, and thighs, and Monti helped me out with a small handprint over my ass cheek, so when I turn, he darts forward, molding his hand over the exact spot.

“Fuck me,” he groans, burying his face in my neck. “My wife is trying to kill me on my wedding night.”

I chuckle, moaning when he bites me there, then licks and kisses, and then I’m hoisted and flipped, set on the edge of the desk.

“Wife.” I tip my head farther to the side. “I like the sound of that.”

“I know.” He sucks my skin, squeezing my breasts in both hands as I work the black suit jacket from his shoulders and follow with the removal of his dress shirt, also black, of course.

His hands come down and he opens up his belt buckle, kicks his shoes from his feet, and steps from his pants. “Wrap those legs around me, baby, and hold on.”

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