by Stasia Black
She sat up, suddenly understanding. “That’s why you want to marry me so quickly.”
He dipped his chin. He didn’t want to...not until they were married. Her heart clutched at the sweetness of the gesture. She didn’t know a lot about these things but she suspected, a man like him, going without couldn’t be easy. But he was doing it, for her. Even now she knew he was stifling his need. She’d felt him so hard against her thigh.
“Marcus.” She slid her arms around his shoulders. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m not taking any chances.” For a moment she clung to him in perfect silence.
He said, “From now on, you have two guards wherever you go.”
“But—”
He placed a finger at her lips. “No argument. I know that dick turned up again.” His face grew sober. “Sharo saw him in the shop.”
She straightened. “I didn’t— He didn’t—” She wasn’t sure what she was trying to explain so she stopped.
“I know.”
Cora bit her lip. It was now or never. “He said something. He was trying to warn me.”
“About what?” Marcus’s face was carefully blank.
Did it really matter what that man said? He’d drugged and kidnapped her. He was obviously fixated on her, and he’d had several blows to the head. Was she really going to believe his ‘warning’ over everything she knew about Marcus?
Not that she really knew Marcus, but so far he’d been a perfect gentleman. And she did know him, didn’t she? The things that mattered anyway.
Her eyes dropped to her lap. “Nothing. He said nothing.”
Marcus trapped her hand between both of his, squeezing. “Cora, this...what we have...is new. But it’s gonna last.”
“I know that.” And she did. Because now she couldn’t imagine her world without Marcus in it.
“You know my work isn’t always above the law.”
“I don’t know much about what you do—” she started shakily.
“You know enough.”
“I know who you are, Marcus. I know that you have principles. You want good people to be safe… And bad people punished.”
“That’s right. I do.” His grip tightened, almost painful, then it eased and he raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “But I promise you, my work will never touch you. I’m gonna put you so high on a pedestal, you’ll live in the stars.”
“Lock me in an ivory tower?” she tried to smile. “The penthouse?”
“If that’s what it takes.” His voice was hard but then it turned reassuring. “Cora, that man won’t ever bother you again.”
Her stomach plummeted, a jumble of guilt and relief. “He won’t?” she whispered. What will you do to him? She gulped back the question. Even if Marcus told her, she didn’t want to know.
“No.” His eyes crinkled in a chilling smile. “Don’t worry. I told you I’d take care of you.”
Eight
They got married two weeks later in a brief, private ceremony in a small chapel near the Crown hotel.
Well, private in that Marcus only invited what he called the ‘bare minimum’ of his friends and business associates who would be offended if they didn’t get an invitation. So the chapel was full to bursting with people.
Traditionally his guests would fill one side of the aisle and hers the other, but Cora only had one person to invite—the only other person in the city she really knew besides Marcus—Maeve.
Cora felt a pang thinking about her mother as she hovered at the back of the church, but it was mainly along the lines of wishing she had a normal mother who could be here, happy and joyful to give her daughter away. Instead it would be Sharo walking her down the aisle.
The only other person she even really knew there was Armand, and he was still technically more Marcus’s friend than hers, though she did get to enjoy more of his boisterous personality as she had dress fittings with him. He had a line of wedding dresses so it seemed natural to go to him for her dress.
Never one to go completely traditional, Armand had picked a dress that was white with black straps and black lace at her waist. Cora wasn’t picky. The dress was beautiful and it was clear Marcus approved by the look in his eye as she walked down the aisle. She wore white flowers in her hair and she positively floated the last few feet to him.
She couldn’t believe she was actually here, about to marry him. He would be hers, forever.
She was so giddy, she couldn’t stop grinning throughout the entire ceremony, even though the priest droned on.
And finally, the ancient priest got to the only part Cora cared about. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Marcus pulled her close, cradled her head in his large hand and slanted his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a chaste kiss. Fireworks exploded as his tongue stroked once, twice, three times before her lips parted and it swept inside. Heat rolled through her, running into her mouth like nectar from Marcus’s lips, spilling down her neck, chest, and pooling with exquisite weight right between her legs. Her thighs clenched. Wedding bells were ringing, and every cell in her body blasted to life.
He finally released her, the cheers of the guests echoing in her ears. Sparks sizzling in every corner of her body, Cora reached out and swiped a thumb at the corner of his mouth where her lipstick marked him. Marcus gave her a wink and her whole body convulsed.
“Soon,” he mouthed and she flushed redder than she already was. He turned to greet the guests, handsome face smooth and polite, but she sensed the tension, the dormant readiness in the lines of his powerful body. He was impatient with the pomp and ceremony too.
First there was the reception, an elegant affair in one of the Crown hotel’s ballrooms. Cora clung to Marcus’s hand in the receiving line as person after person came by to congratulate them. Some of the faces she recognized. Santonio—or Papa Santa as he liked people to call him. He ran one of the restaurants Marcus invested in. And then there was Jimmy Roscoe and his wife and their five children. Cora didn’t know how Marcus knew him except that they did business together.
The rest were a blur of names and faces she didn’t bother trying to keep up with. She smiled and shook hands and accepted congratulations until finally the line dwindled and they were through.
“Another half hour then we’ll cut out of here, I promise,” Marcus whispered in her ear as he led her out on the dance floor.
That sounded like heaven to her. She relaxed into his body as soon as the band started to play a slow, romantic jazz number. He led her expertly across the floor, smooth as spun honey.
And true to his word, half an hour later, they’d cut the cake and made their goodbyes, encouraging everyone else to stay and enjoy the party and the open bar.
They escaped upstairs.
Cora was tired after the long day but adrenaline had her feeling wide awake as they stepped on the elevator to go to the penthouse.
It was officially her wedding night now.
She and Marcus hadn’t talked about it, but it was obvious that tonight would be the night. He’d take her virginity and they’d finally be united in every way possible. She’d truly be his, and him hers.
It was stupid, but she had the romantic notion that her whole life had been leading up to this moment.
“Oh Marcus,” she sighed, leaning into his body as the elevator continued to rise. “I never knew happiness like this could even be real.”
He didn’t say anything, he just put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest.
The elevator pinged and he let her go as he strode forward and slid his keycard from his wallet and into the door.
Cora eagerly followed behind, hurrying into the penthouse suite.
But apparently she wasn’t fast enough because Marcus pushed her from behind, grabbing frantically for her and shoving the door shut with his foot.
It was like he couldn’t get his hands on her quick enough. He kissed her forcefully, hands at her wais
t pulling her into him.
Cora opened to him, her adrenaline spiking even higher as pleasure warred with fear over what was about to happen. She’d tried to learn a little bit about sex online using her phone, but the pictures that had come up—suffice to say, she’d quickly closed the browser in horror. Besides, she’d reasoned, she trusted Marcus to lead her through whatever she needed to know.
Marcus immediately shucked his jacket and yanked at his tie, but then, as if he was impatient, his hands came back to her. His hands slid down her waist and around to her backside. He squeezed her bottom and she couldn’t help the groan of surprise and pleasure—gods, having him touch her so intimately was shocking…and amazing.
Next he was tearing at the buttons on his shirt and yanking it off, then pulling his undershirt off over his head.
Cora’s eyes about bugged out of her head at seeing his bare chest.
Her husband was gorgeous.
To die for gorgeous.
She knew he worked out in the mornings but…her mouth went dry the more she looked at his toned chest and the cut of his abdominal muscles, all leading to a sharp V that—
“You like what you see?” he growled and pulled her to him again, kissing her deep.
But only for a moment, because he pulled away and spun her around and pressed her face first into the wall.
She felt his fingers pulling at the laces of her dress the next moment. “Godsdamned Armand,” he hissed, tugging impatiently. “How the hell do I get you out of this thing?”
Cora giggled and reached back to help him but he batted her hands away. Finally, she felt the dress loosen around her waist and Marcus finished by pulling down the zipper. His hands glided over her flesh as he pushed the gown to the ground and helped her step out of it.
She was left in a white strapless bra, thong, and thigh-highs. She lifted her arms to her chest instinctively.
But Marcus wasn’t having it. He pulled her arms down and stared at her in that way of his, like he was drinking in every inch of her.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. She squealed and circled his neck with her arms, clinging to him, but he carried her like she weighed nothing at all.
He deposited her smoothly on the bed and followed her down, kissing her and climbing in between her legs.
She groaned as he put pressure right where she needed it. She wrapped her legs around him and ground restlessly against him, seeking what she didn’t even know. Oh gods, was this really finally happening? Was she actually here, in her wedding bed with Marcus? It was a dream. Things like this never happened to her. Was she really getting the happy ending?
But Marcus’s lips on her felt real enough. A shudder wracked her body at his touch. Gods, the way he made her feel. He still had his pants on but he was kissing her and she was happy to let him take the lead.
As much as she hated to think of him with other women before her, it meant he was the one who knew what he was doing.
And now he’s yours. Only yours.
She grinned and dug her hands into his hair. Gods, she loved his hair. It was so thick and dark. Their children would have gorgeous dark hair. Would they get his gray eyes or her blue ones? They hadn’t even talked about children other than Marcus asking for her to get the birth control shot a month ago. There was so much they still didn’t know about each other.
But they had their whole lives to learn. Starting tonight.
Cora’s stomach flipped in joy and pleasure as Marcus reached beneath her and unclasped her bra.
When he pulled it off, she waited in anticipation for him to touch her breasts. Her nipples had hardened into little nubs and she was suddenly aching for him to touch them.
Instead, Marcus lifted her arms above her head and continued to kiss her.
He climbed off of her and moved up the bed.
“What are you—” she started to ask but he cut her off.
“Do you trust me?” His gaze had never been more solemn and intense. It made Cora want to cover herself again but she swallowed. She’d be brave. Because yes, she did trust him, and she told him so.
“Yes.”
He gave her the half grin she loved as he pulled one of her arms up and outwards. Tension rippled through her as he lifted a silk scarf she hadn’t seen that was already tied to the bedpost to wind around her wrist.
What was he—? She lay still as he tied first one wrist, and then the other, to the bed. She tugged against one experimentally and even though it was silk, the way he’d knotted it, it didn’t give an inch.
“Marcus,” she said, brow furrowing. “I don’t know about this. It’s— It’s my first time, you know.”
“That makes me very happy to hear, goddess,” he said, moving back down the bed to kiss her deep again.
His drugging kisses soon had her forgetting all her objections. Especially when he kissed down her neck and kept going. When his mouth closed over her nipple finally, she arched up into him and let out the most embarrassing moan. But gods, she couldn’t help it, it felt so good.
He wasn’t done with teasing her, though, apparently, because he continued kissing down her body. Down to her belly button. Lower.
When he got to the hem of her white lace underwear, he dragged them down with his teeth. Cora gasped and her chest heaved as warring emotions fought for dominance—fear, exhilaration, but above all, desire.
Desire for her husband, the man she loved. Dear gods but she loved him.
It was on the tip of her tongue to confess it as he tugged her underwear and slid it down her legs, baring her to him completely.
She wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed.
Because she loved him.
She wanted to whisper it in his ear. She wanted to scream it from the rooftops.
She was in love with this god of a man and she wanted the whole world to know. She grinned at him as he massaged her calf and looked up at her body.
He wasn’t smiling. He looked pensive, like he was deep in his head.
“Marcus?”
He didn’t answer as he pulled off her thigh-highs, then tugged on her ankle and—
Her forehead furrowed when he pulled yet another red scarf from the foot of the bed.
“Wait, Marcus.” She tried to draw her leg up but he pulled her leg back flat to the bed with his inexorable strength, massaging her calf as he went.
When he looked up at her, his eyes were stormy. “You said you trusted me.”
And what could she say to that?
So she let her leg go limp as he tied one ankle and then the other, until she was spread out on the bed like a virgin sacrifice.
She expected Marcus to climb up and cover her, to warm her with his body and soothe her discomfort at the position with his drugging kisses.
But instead, he left the bed. Glass clinked. Cora craned her neck. Marcus stood at the sideboard, pouring himself a drink.
“What are you doing?” She tugged at her bonds. Glass in hand, Marcus moved to the end of the bed, his face half in shadow. In between sips, his sculpted lips were set in neither a smile or a frown.
“Marcus,” she called, breathless. “Please. What—”
“If only Demi Titan could see her little girl now.”
What? How—
Goosebumps pebbled all over Cora’s skin. She’d never told Marcus her mother’s name. Much less her mother’s married name. Mom had gone back to using her maiden name, Vestian, after they moved to Kansas.
But for Marcus to know—
He stepped into the light. His stone expression turned Cora cold. “Surprise, little wife.” He took a long pull of his drink. “You’ve just married the big bad wolf.”
Nine
No, no, no, no, no. This was all some big mistake. Or she was dreaming. Yes, that had to be it. It was still the night before the wedding and she was having a nightmare. This was pre-wedding jitters and her brain was conjuring the worst thing it could imagine.
“Hey,” Marcus ran his fingert
ips up her inner thigh. “Stay with me. This is important. Don’t want you to miss a thing.” His lips twisted as he leaned over her. “Breathe. You gotta remember to breathe.”
She sucked in air, frozen, staring at his face. His strong jaw and hooded grey eyes. The handsome warmth she loved was gone, replaced by a mask. The same hard, menacing mask he gave to everyone else—but now he was using it on her.
“Marcus, stop it,” she jerked against the scarves binding her wrists and ankles. “You’re scaring me.”
“Good,” he rumbled, and it was the first time since he’d tied her up that she’d seen anything resembling emotion enter his eyes. His finger trailed down her bare leg, making it twitch. Reminding her she was bound and naked. Not that she needed a reminder. “You should be scared.”
He circled the bed and set his drink on the side table. Hands in his pockets, he studied her. His shadow cut over her body. “My sister was scared—when your father’s goons snatched her off the streets, threw her in a dirty room and violated her.”
All the oxygen left the room. Cora’s ears rang, her vision dimming, narrowing on Marcus’s hard face. “What?”
“They tied her up...just like this. She was a good girl. Sweetest soul on the face of this planet. She loved everybody. Never took a step out of line. And he killed her in cold blood. Your father.”
Cora jerked her head and body from side to side. “No. No, you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. My dad died in a car accident and my mom—”
“Your mom took you into hiding when you were four years old to protect you from me,” he sneered. “But then after all these years, what do you know, a girl who’s the spitting image of Demi Titan comes waltzing back into my city, except instead of brunette, she’s got her daddy Titan’s blond hair.”
Cora’s mouth dropped open. No. What he was saying couldn’t be true. But the look in his eye, the cold fury—the hatred—he certainly thought it was true.
Cora’s mind raced with all he was telling her. Could it—? Had mom really hidden away for all those years to protect her from—