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“Will be smart enough to not interfere. End of.”
“Not your wedding,” my girl hisses from between clenched teeth, the blunt end of her fingernails trying to find purchase on my arm, but the tuxedo prevents that. “Quit being difficult.”
“Enough.” Lowering my lips to her ear, I let out a rough exhale. We stay like that for a second or two, with me inhaling her sweet scent before speaking loud enough so only she hears. “Do you want me to show you what real stubbornness is, bebe? How crazy you make me?”
“No.” A whisper, yet she still tries to move away. That won’t do. While the other two watch, surprise on their faces, I turn and move us away.
There’s a door that leads to a private weapons room on this level that only the to-be newlyweds and I know about. It’s behind a bookcase and opens with the press of a button beneath the third shelf. There’s an audible click and then a shift while Amberlyn gasps.
Grabbing the side, I pull it open just enough for us to fit. “Go on.”
“What the hell is this?”
“Do you trust me?”
“With my safety? Yes…” those warm brown eyes meet mine and inside them, there’s her love, but it’s also tinged by the smallest hint of hate “…everything else, though? Not so much.”
Fuck, that cuts, but nothing less than what I deserve. One day she’ll know the truth.
“Please.”
“Two minutes.” I find it adorable when she tries to take charge.
Amberlyn walks inside and I close the door behind us, adding the extra lock to make sure she doesn’t escape. Before I came to look for her, my brother went in search of his bride, smirk in place, and I’m more than sure they’ll be busy for a little bit.
It’s why I brought her here. Why I don’t pause and take the few steps separating us before slamming my mouth down on hers like I’ve wanted to do since yesterday.
The kiss is possessive and urgent. It holds my apology and her denial.
And more importantly, this time she clings to me.
Her hands grip the lapels of my jacket while nipping my bottom lip before sliding her tongue against the flesh. And while she whimpers and fights me for control, I grip her hips and lift her off the ground, careful to not rip her dress.
Four steps and I’m across the room where a small table is nestled against the back wall. I place her atop it, not once removing my lips—breaking what I know will be the last kiss for a while.
This is a mistake.
I shouldn’t.
“Papi,” my sirenita moans into my mouth, and it’s my breaking point. Between her rejection outside, her anger, and now that moan—motherfuck. I’m feigning, my cock aches, but there’s a bigger hunger I need to satiate.
No matter how much I want to bury myself deep inside her tight cunt, it’s the taste—memory—of her pussy I’ll survive on. What I’ll fuck my hand to until we reunite.
Because she won’t see me after today.
The hold I have on the skirt of her dress is tight, pushing it up and out of my way before Amberlyn’s next intake of breath, but it’s the way her legs part that I focus on. They spread of their own volition, her warm skin trembling beneath my fingertips as I drag them up her skin at a torturous pace.
Goose bumps appear and she shivers, her fingers never releasing my jacket. “What are you—”
“I need to make you come, sweetheart.” It’s a barely contained growl, my entire body thrumming with yearning.
“But the wedding.” No real strength behind it. Also don’t miss how her hips shift a little closer.
Gripping a thigh in each hand, I squeeze and bring my mouth to hers. Just press them, savor her every exhale. “Please.”
“I should say no to you.”
“Please.” One word. My plea.
