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I wouldn’t have liked that.
Not one bit.
I’m pouting over the recurring thought when there’s a knock on the door.
“Angel, it’s time,” comes Edison’s deep voice through the heavy wood.
My heartrate kicks into overtime, but I take a deep inhale and order my nerves to stop racing in circles. “I-I’m ready. Come in.”
Edison sweeps into the room, looking impatient in a suit, but he stops in his tracks when he sees me, nearly causing the preacher and Ben to collide with him from behind. I’m still facing the mirror, so Edison can see my back and the reflection of my front.
And I can see his face.
The way his eyes darken, the swell of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
As soon as his initial shock wears off, he begins coming toward me slowly, one step at a time. It’s no wonder he’s shocked. I’ve been bathed and exfoliated; my hair has been primped and curled. I’m wearing makeup for the first time in my life.
“Oh my God,” he breathes when he reaches me, his hands sliding over my hips from behind. “Your beauty defies description, Blessing. I’m a lucky son of a bitch.”
He carefully brushes aside the curtain of my hair and drops his open mouth to the nape of my neck, dragging it along my shoulders, kissing me as he goes.
“It was my intention to marry you downstairs in the parlor, but that’s no longer an option. We will exchange vows as close to the bed as possible.” He eliminates the final inch between our lower bodies and lets me feel his rigidness against my backside, his hands tightening almost painfully on my hips. “I’m desperate for you, Blessing. Fucking desperate. As soon as you’re pronounced my wife, I’ll be mounting you.”
I’ve never had so little control over my body before. My neck muscles give way, my head falling back on a gasp. A rush of wet heat arrows toward the juncture of my thighs. There’s a relentless tingle in my nipples. I should take offense to the phrase I’ll be mounting you, but it only makes me feel funny. Hot and achy.
“I don’t understand the way you make me feel,” I whisper, letting my head rest back on his shoulder. “I have no experience, but…”
“Tell me,” Edison demands into my neck.
“When I imagine us together in bed, you’re…you’re being so harsh with me. You pull my hair and c-call me vile names, swat my bottom and move so roughly on top of me.” I duck my head shyly. “I don’t know where these ideas are coming from.”
As I’ve been explaining myself, his breathing has turned remarkably shallow, his chest expanding and hollowing on rasping pulls of oxygen. “Christ. When I called myself a lucky son of a bitch, that was an understatement.” Our gazes lock in the mirror, his tongue tracing the lobe of my ear. “You were aptly named, Blessing. That’s what you are.” His magical mouth trails down the slope of my neck and back up to speak in a low voice into my hair. “You’re an angel outside of bed. A goddamn saint. My princess to spoil beyond her wildest imagination. But when you’re beneath me, you want to be fucked like a horny little whore. Is that right?”
“Oh my,” I whimper, my sex clenching painfully. “Yes, I…think…I think so.”
I can barely keep my balance. My knees turn to jelly and Edison wraps an arm around my hips to hold me up, his hips pressing to my bottom indecently. Humping me onto my toes and groaning into my neck. “Sweet hell, I won’t make it through these vows.”
“Are we ready to begin?” says the preacher, his voice tugging at my subconscious. My gaze flies to his reflection in the mirror and he appears to be sweating, tugging at his collar with one finger. I’ve seen him before. Many times. He is constantly shooing the children away from the church steps, ordering them to go beg somewhere else. Or claiming they’ll dirty the steps, simply by sitting on them.
This man only pretends to be righteous and holy.
I don’t want to pretend like him. I want to be exactly as I am.
I’m not sure where the dark impulse comes from, but suddenly I want to scandalize this man, because it’s how I feel in the wake of hearing the words horny little whore. I feel powerful and exhilarated and awake. Maybe I’ll make him even more uncomfortable than he is now. As uncomfortable as he’s made me and my charges feel in the past.
I turn in Edison’s embrace, push up on my toes, raking every inch of my body up his powerful torso and I settle our mouths together. “Is it bad luck to kiss before a wedding?”
Edison is a smart man, so he recognizes the change in me. His eyes narrow, even as he hauls me higher against his body, leaving my toes inches above the floor. “Why are you tempting me when I’m already on the edge?”
