Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

I glare at him. “Let me go. You piss me off.”

He bites my bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it. “You’re in love with me? I don’t recommend that.”

“I am,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t care what you recommend.”

The nibbling slowly turns to kissing, and I part my lips for him to enter, sliding my tongue over his. I curl my arm around his neck as he holds me up against the wall and we both lose ourselves in each other. Just kissing. Nothing more. Something so intimate that you wouldn’t expect someone so cold like Brantley to be so damn good at.

He stops, slowly lowering me to the floor. “You’re lucky I don’t tear that dress off you and fuck you until you’re blue.” I begin straightening myself.

“Why don’t you?” I tease boldly, though I’m glad he doesn’t right now because we’ve still got a little while to go tonight.

He smirks down at me. “Oh, I will.” He reaches for my hand, yanking me into his chest. His fingers intertwine with mine. “But you can’t fuck a bride in her wedding dress before she’s even married.” What? I look down at the heavy cool metal that’s sliding over my ring finger and pause. A rock almost the size of the entire lower half of my finger glistens back at me.

He smiles darkly at me, the corners of his mouth too fucking smug to be on a face this damn evil. “All. Fucking. Mine.”

Brantley

Her eyes are glued to her finger, as if she can’t believe that it’s there. Staring back at her. But it is. And it’s there to fucking stay.

She glances up at me. “What is going on?”

I curl my lips over my teeth. She once said she wanted full disclosure, and I had a lot of fucking time to think on what I wanted when it came to her, and that was honesty. Saint can sniff out a lie like a Beagle can cocaine, but I still want to be honest. “It’s the opening night for the schools—and our wedding.”

She blinks as if she still hasn’t processed it.

I continue. “And Madison’s wedding.”

Double blink.

I run my tongue over my teeth. “And Tillie’s.”

“Jesus,” she whispers, stepping backward until her back hits the door.

“Sorry, he’s not invited.”

Her eyes snap to me. “Brantley, are you all sure this is the answer to whatever it is you’re all planning?”

“Don’t do that,” I say, running the tip of my finger down the chamber of her sternum. My cock swells against my pants, and every second inside this cafeteria kitchen is like hell on earth. I need to get beneath her. Make her scream. Fuck, it’s been too long.

“Do what?” she asks, still admiring her ring. Good. It is fucking impressive.

“Second-guess whether we’re doing the right thing.” I step closer to her to curl my fingers beneath her chin to tip her face up to mine. “That ring, this wedding, it doesn’t mean shit to me, Saint. It’s all just labels and a piece of paper with some cheap two-dollar ink. Don’t expect anything more than what you’re used to from me. We need this to solidify our unit.” Her eyes flick up to mine, and fuck, she’s beautiful. It’s the kind of beauty that demands to be felt by everyone.

“But how can you marry me when you’re not in love with me?”

I take two deep inhales of air and count to five. Mainly for her benefit, because I already know what I’m going to tell her. I may be cold, but I’m not ignorant. I knew eventually she would want to have the discussion about love. I’m not a fucking idiot either. I know I feel a certain way about her. For instance, that “way” usually leads me down Murder-ville Drive whenever I think she’s either in danger or touching another man, but love? Shit. “Love will never exist with me.”

She keeps her focus on her ring, but I catch the way she tugs the corner of her bottom lip slightly into her mouth and nibbles on it. I notice her nervous trait and bring her face back up to mine with my finger. “But the way I feel about you will last a lifetime after love dies out. You once said that would be enough for you. Does that still count with a ring on your finger and a new title as my wife?”

She finally brings her eyes up to mine. “You are more than enough for me, Brantley.”

I smile weakly down at her, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. My smiles never usually do.

She sighs. “Do I even want to know what is happening tonight? Aside from our weddings? And what about Veronica finding out we’re married and that we know we’re not related?”