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“Oh, my god,” she whispers.

I suck on her clit gently until she’s rocking up toward my face in time with each drag of her flesh between my lips.

Then I lap at her flesh, enjoying the way she squirms, trying to get more from me, demanding more, even as she writhes in my grip.

I lift my head, and she drops her knees and groans in frustration. “This is what you have to look forward to if you say yes. I’ll make you come every single night we’re together.”

“Solid argument,” she whispers, thrusting her hips up toward me.

I dip my head back down and fuck her with my tongue until she comes again, groaning and gripping my head.

When she eases down, I climb back up her body and settle in beside her on the bed. Gently, I tuck her against my side and run my hand down her front to ease my fingers over her belly.

“Why do you want to marry me?” she asks after a while.

I can lie, but right now, I don’t want to, not to her. “Because once I lost my parents, it was like I lost my name, too. I had nothing. The moment I made myself a Diavolo, I vowed my son will never face that feeling. I’ll be married to his mother, and he will have my name. He’ll be a Diavolo and have respect just for that.”

“What if your child is a girl?”

I stare down at her and smile. “Then she’ll have my name, and the city will quake when she comes into her power. You might already know this, but women are more ruthless than men in defense of their territories.”

She smiles, her eyes bright as she looks up at me. When she wraps her hand up around my neck and kisses me, I let her take the lead, take what she wants from me.

Now I just need to make her believe I can give her everything, and as my wife and my queen, she’ll have more power than she’s ever known.

16

Celia

The next morning, Nic is sitting on the end of the bed, a black dress draped across his already clothed lap. I shove the covers out of the way so I can see him better. “Are you all right?”

He drags his gaze to mine as if he were far away. “Of course, get dressed, and I’ll have Sarah bring you some breakfast. I wanted to give you this. I have to go finish a couple of things before we leave.”

He stands and lays the dress on the bed. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

As he walks out, I call out to snag his attention. “Where are we going?”

With his hand on the door, his body already partially in the hallway, he stops. “It’s a surprise. Get dressed, and you’ll see soon enough.” I can’t see his face as he speaks since it’s hidden behind the heavy wooden door, but there’s something in his voice I can’t pinpoint.

When he leaves, it’s as if all the air in the room goes with him. And it’s not because there’s one huge question hovering between us. Or maybe it is.

Nic asked me to marry him last night. It still seems surreal. Like he’s going to walk back in the bedroom and tell me it’s all a joke or a cruel trick he used to force my guard down.

And the worst part, I’m not sure I don’t want it all to be a joke. Maybe he can see it in my eyes, and that’s why he looked so… defeated just now.

I clean up and dress quickly. By the time I leave the bathroom, a breakfast tray is sitting on the bed. I barely have a few moments to scarf down a couple of bites of toast before Nic returns, his immaculate suit in place, and his jaw tense.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?”

He cups my cheeks in his hands and drags me up to his mouth. Obviously, meeting me halfway since the height between us is all in his favor. When he pulls away, I’m breathless, and he says, “Where’s the fun in that?”

My worry turns into excitement. I’m smiling as I snag the rest of the toast, slip my feet into some black ballet flats, and let Nic lead me out to the car. For him, this dress is practically matronly. I wonder when he picked it out. Everything up till now has been slightly sexy, sometimes daring.

When we pull up outside a familiar apartment, I take a moment to memorize the lines of it in the light of day. Now the demure clothing makes sense. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming?”

The entire car ride has been tense, and he hasn’t touched me since he helped me into the vehicle. Something that’s strange for him. Whenever we are in the same room, he always has his hands on me. If not on my skin, in my hair, or around the back of my neck.

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