Taken Bride (The Secret Bride 3)

“Not yet,” he says. “Don’t walk away yet.”

“But the fire… I should tend to the fire.” I turn away again, but he pulls me harder.

I look over my shoulder, down at my wrist that is firmly gripped, and then back into his eyes.

He tugs my arm toward him, giving me no choice but to stumble up against his chest.

“Kiss me,” he orders in a gruff whisper.

I follow his direction gladly. I want nothing more than to feel his lips against mine.

Our mouths meet, a pull neither can resist any longer. Our hunger demands to be satiated. Time and distance has kept us apart, but our true love never broke. His heart beats against mine as he arranges my body closer. The single kiss has the power to reunite us forever, forgetting all the wrong by both. The kiss is the period to our run-on sentence that seems to never end. One kiss speaks volumes for what is meant.

I want him.

I want him this very second… regardless of our current location and situation. Regardless that Holly and Violet can enter the chapel at any minute. And regardless that I don’t know if we will ever get our happily ever after. But I want him…

Now.

“I need to be with my wife,” he says as his eyes seem to darken right before me.

My heart skips, knowing he feels the same way I do. Our bodies are in tune, even though our lives will never be.

Without asking, without pausing, he removes my dress effortlessly, nothing beneath it to cover me. I’m completely naked, standing before my husband.

“I need you too, but….” I can feel the heat of his stare on my naked body, but I don’t try to conceal myself. I stand and await his next command.

“Don’t fight this. Stop fighting us.”

He leans forward, takes hold of my hips, and pulls me closer to him. Kiss by kiss, he lowers us to the makeshift bed, and then lowers further down until his face is inches from my sex.

“I want the taste of you on my tongue.” He doesn’t wait for permission but rather kisses my pussy, followed by licking my throbbing clit.

I tense at the invasion—thinking I’d never get to feel such pleasure ever again in my life. Part of me wants to stop, and the other part wants the feeling to never end.

He swirls his tongue in circles, lapping up every sign of my arousal. I moan with complete abandon, knowing Holly and Violet could walk in at any minute, but I can’t resist.

My body seems possessed by Satan himself—no doubt something Papa Rich would accuse me of. I have absolutely no power against the devil when it comes to what Christopher is able to do to my body.

Lick after lick, he brings my body to another level. Just when I believe I can take no more, he thrusts his finger past the lips of my pussy. In and out, he plunges, pulling gasps and muffled moans from me. I hide my face beneath a pillow in hopes of concealing my rising pleasure.

“Spread your legs wider,” he directs, his voice husky.

Suffocated by love at the familiar—yet so very distant memory—command, I do exactly as he asks without any hesitation. Lying beneath his shadow, I peek up from the pillow to see his face. The strong features, the firm lips, the sensitive eyes. The same expression I remember washes over his face… strength, love, passion. These are the eyes of my husband. The man I vowed to love. The man I vowed to spend the rest of my life with.

And yet… I ran.

I broke the vows.

I shattered everything.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur more to myself than to him. “I’m so sorry I left.”

“Shh,” he whispers as he places his lips to my pussy.

His intimate kiss forgives, but does he?

His body is offering amnesty, but does his heart?

He caresses my mound without saying a word, quickly following with a kiss to my belly and then my slit. Once. Twice. The kissing continues as heat ripples over my body in waves, leaving me breathless. “Christopher,” I whisper. “I—”

I want to apologize over and over if this is my penance.

Further words are lost as his kisses turn into licks and nibbles. The sting of his bites on my inner thigh makes me want to beg for mercy yet also leaves me wanting more. Moaning, gasping, whimpering, I close my eyes and give myself up to the moment… to Christopher and his show of forgiveness.

He pauses a moment, rubbing his hand along my heated flesh. Dipping his finger down the crease of my butt, he presses past and rests his finger at the entrance of my tight rosebud, teasing me with the unknown of what’s to come. Slight pressure is added, but not enough to break past and enter fully. Slowly, he lowers his other hand to my silky folds, wet with desire.