Ronan's Bride

It’s like a blur. All I can focus on through the whole ceremony is Ronan’s sweet smile and the heat in his dark amber eyes. I’m caught in his gaze and can’t look away.

I repeat the words I need to and do what needs to be done. Slipping the ring he provides onto him and the matching platinum band studded with diamonds onto my own hand.

“You may kiss the bride,” he says.

And I’m staring up into his eyes when he leans over and catches my mouth in his, his lips moving, cementing to mine, like we’re two halves of one whole.

Lust and hunger rear up in my body and my head reels like I’ve been drinking.

He steps back, panting lightly and smirks. “I think I’m going to enjoy being married after all.”

Holy shit! My pussy clenches violently at the fire in his eyes. My juices pool and the panties stick to my nether regions as my eyes widen.

This honeymoon might burn me alive. I might need the firefighter to keep from bursting into flames just from the hunger on Ronan’s face.

I fan my face and turn to the minister, holding out my hand and shaking his.

This part is just an appetizer. The main course will be when Ronan gets me alone. One of us might not make it out alive.