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She doesn’t answer, just glances away quickly.
“Sweetheart, why do your eyes look so sad?” I whisper, grabbing her and pulling her into my embrace.
“I just—I don’t know, okay? I’m probably overreacting...”
I thought she might get upset no matter how much she prepared. Seeing herself decked out in a dress when the first time was so traumatic can’t be easy or controllable.
That’s why I arranged this—to help her and help me—but still. I can’t handle seeing Nevermore in tears, and her eyes are only becoming glossier.
“I want you to look at me and listen.” I wait for her eyes, gently urging them to meet mine with two fingers under her chin. “You’re beautiful, Dakota Poe. God himself wouldn’t change a single solitary thing about you.”
Her face screws up. A muffled sob falls out of her.
“I-I’m not sure. But thanks.” She sniffs again, staring up like she’s seeing me for the very first time. “Thank you, Lincoln. That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said.”
I smile.
“I’m only stating the obvious, woman. I know you can see the effect you have on me,” I growl, pushing into her belly, making her feel my hard-on.
Red excitement fills her face.
“You weren’t thinking about the dress, were you?” she asks.
“Technically, yes, if thinking about ripping the damn dress off counts.”
“That’s my point.”
“Nevermore, that’s what every man thinks when he sees a wedding dress worth anything. That’s half the reason we agree to get dressed up and march down the aisle.” I search her eyes. “Now you know.”
She laughs, wiping her cheek.
“There must be some good men out there still.”
“Yeah, and they’re all boring as hell.” I lean in and kiss her neck. “Wanting to make love to his wife doesn’t make a man bad.”
I leave a string of kisses down the side of her neck until I’ve reached her clavicle.
“Mmm. Fine. I guess you can be pretty convincing.” She sighs.
She has no goddamned clue, but I aim to enlighten her.
I gently spin her around in my arms, pulling her tighter so her silk-clad bottom rests against the seething bulge she felt a few minutes ago. I kiss the spaghetti strap of the wedding dress.
“A wedding and a marriage aren’t the same thing. Not wanting to stand through a long ceremony on full display doesn’t mean you don’t value the marriage.” I push the strap over with my hand so I can kiss the bare skin under it. “Girls are so weird. If my bride wanted a sixty-second ceremony so she could get me alone, I’d think it was the hottest shit ever.”
Nevermore giggles and her eyes come alive again in green witchfire.
Finally.
I kiss her from her shoulder to the back of her neck, trailing my mouth down her back until I meet the section of dress where the pearl clasps begin.
She wiggles her ass against me, freeing her baser instincts.
I’m so damn ready, bringing my hands over her breasts.
She whimpers.
I smile, knowing that sigh would be a lot louder without this dress in the way.
I’m about to ask if I’m a bad person if I need to destroy it right now, but before I can she turns to face me, closes her arms around my neck, and brings her face to mine.
Her tongue meets mine with a hunger and an urgency and a mad glint in her eye.
I take her then, matching her passion with my own pressure.
She moans against my mouth, pouring sticky heat against my tongue.
I can’t unclasp the pearls fast enough.
Her hands go to my waist. She undoes my pants and they fall down around my ankles.
A second later, her back is free, open for my hands. I shove the dress off her, freeing her in all her snow-white glory tipped with pink.
The way she shivers as the dress falls is so sexy and enticing I almost come in my pants.
Enough.
I’m done wasting time doing anything but making her sweet ass entirely mine.
Placing my hands under her rear, I lift her to me, aligning our bodies perfectly. Warm, molten heat between her legs glides against my skin.
“You’re so fucking wet for me. You make me obsessed, Nevermore,” I whisper.
My body pulses like an armed grenade.
I take a few clumsy steps to the wall with Dakota in my arms and push her against it.
“Dakota, can I—”
“Please?”
It’s all she has to say.
My hand moves down and I grab her panties, shredding them off in one swipe. The noise is loud, feral, a voice for the unhinged desire splitting me in two.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her, already grabbing my cock, shocked at how hot it feels in my hand.
I don’t wait.
Not the fuck today.
A single, powerful thrust pins her to the wall and I groan, only holding my eyes open to watch hers roll.
“Lincoln!” My name comes from deep in her throat, all husky fire.
