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“You are mine,” he murmured. “From the first time I laid eyes on you.”
He kissed me deep and long. When he broke away my head was spinning.
“Is that why you kidnapped me?” I teased.
“Absolutely,” he said, lifting my hand and spinning me again. “I didn’t see it then, but clearly I wanted you all to myself.”
“I won’t condone your methods,” I said. “But they were effective.”
“Should I tell our future sons that’s the way to go?” he mused, tugging me towards the door where the car waited on the curb.
“Absolutely not!” I gasped.
He laughed, his head falling back and yanked open the door. I tumbled into the backseat with my heart thudding and my stomach fluttering. He slipped in beside me and pulled the privacy panel down. Before I could speak, he pushed me onto my back on the leather seat and moved his body over mine.
His mouth brushed my lips. That pointed canine flashed. “God, I want you so fucking badly,” he groaned.
“I’m fully aware of that,” I breathed. “Unless that’s just a large phallic vegetable in your pocket.”
He laughed again, this time against my mouth. His hips moved, rubbing himself against my thigh. Begging me silently to pull my skirt and panties to the side and let him in.
I broke away. “Not until you make an honest woman out of me.”
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DURAN
I married her in a dark room at the courthouse an hour after midnight.
We were both tipsy and sweating from dancing at the club. We ran into a group of my friends from the city and we stayed with them until evening. They would be my witnesses. I knew as soon as our marriage became public, they’d spread the story of how drunk and reckless we were all evening.
We spent most of the time on the dance floor. Her gorgeous, tight body moved against mine, her fountain of blonde hair falling down her back. I couldn’t keep my hands off her waist. I wanted that perfect ass up against me the entire night.
The club cleared out at half past midnight. My phone buzzed with a text from Lucien’s friend at the court house. I took her hand and we ran recklessly out onto the pavement and across the street to the back entrance of the building.
Head spinning, I signed my name. She couldn’t stop giggling and I had to hold her steady by the waist so she could print her name. The sleepy clerk officiated the rest and signed at the bottom.
I was a married man.
I paid the clerk several thousand and he shooed us back out onto the street. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glistened. I reached for her, but she darted back, spinning once. Her skirt flared and showed me a flash of her round ass and thong.
Fuck me.
She lifted her hand, flashing her bare ring finger. “Do I look married to you, Mr. Esposito?”
“You’re about to look very married,” I said. “On your back with your husband balls deep in your pussy.”
She gasped, like that was the dirtiest thing I’d ever said. “Oh, you’re so bad.”
She was adorable when she was tipsy. I snatched her around the waist and buried my face in her neck. She smelled so good it made my head spin. Perhaps that was just the drinks, but I doubted it.
“I’m about to get a whole lot worse,” I groaned.
Right in the middle of the dark street, she slid her palm down and cupped my cock through my pants. Heat roared through my body and thumped in my groin. It was all I could do to not thrust into her hand.
“I’m going to fuck you right here,” I murmured. “So if you don’t want that, then come with me because there’s a honeymoon suite, a bottle of champagne, and a bed waiting for us at the hotel.”
