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He pushes me back so I’m lying down, and I feel him moving down so he’s resting somewhere around my knees. I can’t see him over the ridiculous skirt of my dress, but I suddenly feel his hands sliding over my legs. He’s removing the lingerie my mother had so painstakingly picked out for my first night as Niko’s bride.
Panic crawls into my throat as I imagine him looking at my bare flesh for the first time. There are parts of me I don’t want him to see, parts I’m uncomfortable with. A cold chill breaks over me and I have to take a deep breath as he continues his movements. He obviously wants me, despite my self shame.
I shudder against his touch as he deftly removes the buckles. Then I feel his warm, wet tongue against my entrance. I cry out, lost in the sensation. I certainly hadn’t expected this, and now I’m afraid. This is much farther than I’d expected to go when I kissed him, but no part of me wants him to stop. In fact, I need him to continue exactly what he’s doing.
He takes his time tasting me, his tongue sliding in and out of my slit, causing feelings inside of me to build that I didn’t know existed. He swirls his tongue several times around a very sensitive area, and I can’t help but grind against him. He’s setting off fireworks in my head, in my whole body. Everything feels so good, so new.
I feel the vibrations of his moan against my core, and I arch my back, wanting to give him more access. He’s probably suffocating down there under the petticoat of my dress, but he doesn’t stop moving his tongue against me. I squirm under him, not understanding the sensations spreading through my body.
Everything from my head to my toes feels tingly. It’s like all my limbs have simultaneously fallen asleep and they’re just waking up again. I have no control over my hips, which continue to move in rhythm with his tongue. His tongue slides up and down, and new sensations overtake my body with every flick and lick.
I’m gasping for air, my lungs burning and my heart pounding. My head feels light and fuzzy, unable to concentrate on anything except the pressure building between my legs. Another scream erupts from my mouth, and I immediately bring up my hand to cover it, feeling ridiculously silly. This causes me to break out in a fit of laughter, feeling so out of control.
I’m helpless under him, a writhing, screaming mess. The pressure continues to build, sensations of pleasure that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling accompanying it. It climbs and climbs until I’m sure I’ll lose control of my entire body. And then, like the sun coming over the horizon, I feel the sensation sweep through me.
I moan out his name as the feeling encompasses me, overtaking all of my senses. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life, and I struggle to catch my breath. He apparently doesn’t suffocate under the dress because there he is, hovering over me again. He leans down, and I feel apprehensive. His tongue was just inside me.
But when his lips approach mine, I can’t control the way mine part for him. I can taste myself on his lips and feel giddy for some reason. There’s something about knowing that seconds ago, his tongue was giving me so much pleasure, and now I can taste myself on it. I feel powerful and sexy. I want more.
His tongue moves slowly over mine, taking its time as it explores my mouth again. Once my taste has faded, it’s all him. My hands go back to his hair, holding him close to me and enjoying the pressure of his body against mine.
Our kisses are slow and wanting. We take our time, feeling each other out. My head swims with everything that’s happened today, but all that’s left is him and his mouth against mine. I feel his hands move down my body and then leave me entirely. I glance down to see that he’s reaching for his pants, and I tense up.
Having his tongue inside of me was one thing, but I’m not ready for this. My heart races, and I pull back, putting space between us. He looks at me curiously.
“What’s wrong, princess?” He laughs.
I scowl at him, not liking his pet name.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I answer sarcastically. “I was basically kidnapped this afternoon, and now I’m lying underneath a man I hardly know.”
He leans down so his mouth is right against my ear. I feel the warmth of his breath, and it takes everything I have not to shiver against him.
“You weren’t exactly complaining a few minutes ago.” He chuckles but climbs off me nonetheless. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says seriously, his voice like silk. “Like I said, you’ll be begging me for it eventually.”
I cross my arms and glare at him, offended by his sureness. What makes him think I can’t control myself? Before now, I was completely inexperienced. I don’t crave him so much that I can’t keep my hands off of him. Not yet, anyway.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he says, pulling away from me and going to pick up his discarded bow tie and jacket.
I watch him as he bends down to pick them up, admiring the curve of his back and the tension in his arms. Multiple times today I’ve experienced exactly how strong those arms are. I picture him in the gym working out, and it makes me breathless again.
But I’m trying to put a stop to this, not get myself going again.
“I’m leaving,” he finally says once he looks more presentable. “But make no mistake, Katrina, I’ll be back in your bed soon enough.”
He stalks over to me slowly, lowering himself to place a sweet, tender kiss on my lips. It’s surprising how gentle it is, how innocent it feels after everything we’ve done. He pulls away quickly before turning and walking out of the room.
I’m disgusted by how much I like watching him walk away. What the hell is wrong with me? This man shouldn’t fascinate me as much as he does, but I can’t stop the way my body reacts to him. It’s as if I have no control over myself at all. That simply won’t work.
Once he’s gone and I finally have the room to myself, I feel emptier than I’d expected. When he was with me, I could push aside the thoughts plaguing me. Now that I’m alone, I’m left to my own devices, replaying the events of the day.
I see the anger on my father’s face and the disappointment on my mother’s. They’ve basically disowned me, sending me off with this strange man. Well, not strange exactly. But he was a stranger to me this morning. Now he’s likely my only ally in the world. My parents probably hate me now, and it hurts.
Of course, they aren’t my favorite people in the world, either. Now that I know the truth about the wedding and who my father is, I feel betrayed. I knew that Papa and Niko’s father were in business together, but I didn’t realize our relationship was part of their business. It wasn’t the 1800s. He couldn’t sell me off to the highest bidder.
But that’s exactly what he had done. It never occurred to me to wonder why I had to marry Niko. I just accepted it as fact. I’d heard of arranged marriages in other cultures and assumed that Niko and I had been pledged together since birth. I’d gone as far as to think it was kind of romantic.
Now I see it sharply for what it is. My father wanted to ensure he would always have Niko’s father in his pocket. When we became family, the two men wouldn’t be able to double-cross each other. Our relationship would ensure that neither man could back out of whatever arrangement they’d come up with.
