Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire)

by Vanessa Waltz

Finally the priest decides that we’ve bled enough and he offers a bandage to Silas, who immediately wraps it around my wound even though his is worse. A small pang of regret hits me when I see his blood sprinkling the ground.

  “As the dragon’s breath devours flames, so shall it devour your body should you chose to betray us. Se mortem provocatio.”

  Whatever.

  Silas stops halfway between wrapping his own bandage when the priest adds a vial of liquid and then takes one of the candles hanging on the wall, lowering it gently to the basin. The blood mixture bursts into flames, and the shadows dance even more wildly across Silas’s face, making his smile carnal. Hope fades from my chest as he takes my hands so that we’re standing face-to-face. I can’t believe I’m here, in front of this burning altar, about to bind my life forever to a man I’ve known for only a few weeks. His dark eyes shine in the dim light, and then I notice that he actually took time to smooth his normally wavy hair, and that his cheeks are completely free of stubble.

  “Silas, repeat after me… I promise to guard this woman with my life. I will be her shield, her partner through eternity.”

  It’s surreal. I can’t be watching those words fall from his lips. I cling to the warmth of his hands, and when it’s time to recite my part my numb lips move. He takes the ring from a small pillow the priest offers him, and it’s a standard gold band with a tiny jewel, but it’s still more than I’ve ever had. With shaking hands I take the plain ring and slide it over his finger.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may—”

  He doesn’t wait for the priest to give him permission. The heat of his breath blows over my lips right before his mouth captures mine. He gently grasps the back of my neck, and inside me I feel a surge of energy, of tingling excitement that sparks over my skin because it’s the first time my husband kisses me. He’s softer than I’ve ever felt him, and I almost buy into the illusion when he pulls away, looking starry eyed. Earsplitting applause and cheers erupt around us. The cheers become bawdy yells when Silas lowers his hands down my back, inserting his thumbs between the waistband of my pants and my skin.

  Oh no!

  A feral growl bursts from his chest as he rips off my pants, and the cold air bites my ass. Fuck no! I’m not participating in this part! I bend down to grab my pants, but then his warm hands are sliding underneath my scrubs, his hot mouth devouring every protest I make. The cold slices me as he lifts my shirt, and I’m not wearing a bra, so he covers me with his hands. The moment we shared in the kiss is gone as a crowd of syndicate members surround us.

  I’m naked in front of all these people, some of whom I’ve known my whole life. I bury myself into his chest, and his arms wrap around me. I relax. Good, it’s over.

  But it’s not.

  He lowers his hands and gives my ass a squeeze before hoisting me into the air. I bend over his shoulder, screaming as a line of men follow Silas out of the chapel, shouting encouragement.

  “Take her tight cunt!”

  The lewd suggestions make my cheeks burn brighter as he turns, facing a door that creaks when he pushes it open. He turns around, giving them another view of my ass before his hand cracks across my cheeks and I hear male voice lift with laughter. Silas turns back around as I bash my fists into his back. I get a view of dark wooden floors and a massive four-poster bed, a fire burning merrily in the hearth. Then the doors close with a resounding thud and he sets me down.

  Fuck him. I want to fight him and claw his eyes out, but he holds me to his chest.

  “Sorry.”

  “Is this what you wanted?” I say through a choked voice. “To humiliate me?”

  His voice rumbles through his chest. “It’s not my fault this place is stuck in the Dark Ages. That was a pretty fucking weird experience for me, too.”

  His warmth disappears from my body and I immediately cover myself with my hands, shivering. Silas runs his hand through his hair and grabs a robe lain on the bed. My eyes focus on the bright-orange light of the fire like a moth.

  I jump when cotton scrapes over my shoulder, and I snatch the robe from his hands and wrap it around my waist, sitting by the chair next to the fire.

  “What the fuck just happened?”

  Silas rips off his jacket, tossing it aside in an empty, rustic-looking chair. Glass bottles clink together as he grabs one with dark-red liquid.

  “This is booze, right?”

  I look at the tall glass container. It really looks like a decanter for wine, but who knows?

  “Fuck it.”

  He chooses another bottle filled with clear liquid and sniffs it cautiously, and then he fills two crystal glasses almost to the brim.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink after that.”

  The contents of the drinks spill over his hands as he walks toward me, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I take the glass he offers me, sipping the fiery liquid. It immediately goes to my head. Jesus, this is strong.

  The voices outside continue to shout, pounding on the doors. It puts Silas on edge. He sits down, his shoulders tensing.

  “What do they want?”

  “They want you to fuck me.”

  “Like having a bunch of guys screaming outside my room puts me in the mood.”

  I take another huge gulp and feel a hot wave spread through my face.

  “Why the hell did you do this?”

  The drink clinks down on the end table as he leans over his knees, the orange light alive over his face. “Because that psychopathic piece of shit wants you for himself.”

  I should have been the one to fuck you next to your father’s corpse.

  Viper’s high, cold voice booms in my ears. The drink almost slips from my hand as a spine-tingling chill runs down my back. I’d forgotten all about that in the midst of the chaos.

  “Viper?”

  In my mind I keep picturing the gun he buried in her chest, as if she were an annoying fly he longed to swat. He’s evil.

  Silas takes another long pull, the bitterness on his face gouging harsh lines. “He’d play with you for a while, and then he’d kill you. It’s his thing.”

  “You knew him, didn’t you?”

  The glass spins in his hands as he nods, staring into the fire with so much intensity that I’m surprised it doesn’t burst into brighter flames. “He was part of Pepper’s crew.”

  I don’t recognize the name, but I hold my tongue because of the faraway look in Silas’s eyes. Pain rounds his shoulders.

  “He did something terrible, and I left town.”

  I lean forward as though I’m seconds away from leaping. “Why? What happened?”

  “I had to get away before he killed me, too.”

  My chest constricts when he drops the glass on the table again and buries his face in his hands. Whatever it was clearly was bad enough to haunt him decades later. The glass feels like ice in my hands as I stare at him, pulse racing.

  “Silas—”

  “I don’t know what he wants from me, but I’ll be damned if he lays a finger on you.”

  “Tell me what the hell you’re still doing here. I’m your wife now. You have to tell me these things.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Yes, everything. You might not be taking this seriously, but the syndicate is.”

  And so do I.

  I watch him rise from the chair to take a few steps toward me. Then he kneels down, and my skin burns from the heat in his heavy-lidded eyes. A jolt runs through my stomach when he spreads his hands over my thighs.

  “Not now. I’d rather spend the night enjoying my wife.”

  The moment he says wife, a small thrill hits my chest and I ball the robe’s fabric right over my heart. He glides over my nearly translucent gown, pushing it higher up my thigh as the flames seem to lick my bare skin.

  “I want my little Fawn.”

  Hearing my name uttered in that gritty tone sets my skin on fire. How can he do this to me? Every time with him feels like the fir
st—I’m scared and excited. I can’t help but feel vulnerable because he’s so much more experienced than I am, and he looks like he’s about to eat me alive. My body blazes with warmth when his heavy gaze settles on me. I’ve given up on anger with this man. He’s my husband now, and I’m so relieved that I feel my shoulders slump. I don’t need to hate him anymore for what he did to Dad.

  My pussy tingles as the robe drags from my shoulders. His mouth trails after the fabric, kissing hot brands on my cooling skin. The heat from the fire combines with his kisses, and then I feel the blaze licking between my legs. When he grabs my tits, I let a high sound escape from my lips.

  “Silas!”

  “No,” he says in a hushed voice. “Call me Michael.”

  Michael must be his real name. Then I consider how odd it must be that I didn’t even know my husband’s real name until he told me on my wedding night. Michael. I like it.

  The robe pools to my sides, and Silas—Michael—slides his hands underneath my ass, pulling me toward the edge of the chair.

  “When we were out there, I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted the whole world to see your body, or if I wanted to keep you to myself.”

  He grips my thighs as he pushes my legs apart, and then his breath mists my pussy. I contract hard as I make a strangled sort of sound. Then there’s a warm flick between my legs. I clench even harder when his tongue teases my clit.

  “You’re lucky that I’m a selfish man.”

  Oh God. His mouth. His tongue.

  Every sensation heightens the moment I feel his tongue land on my clit, and yet my brain can hardly process them all. My thoughts are scrambled. I can’t grasp a single thread. There’s nothing but the sounds of him kissing me, sucking me, and the incredible wet heat between my legs. I feel the tickle of his hair brushing my inner thigh, the vibrations of his mouth moving up my pussy, his hands gripping my legs. I weave my fingers in his fine hair and curl my fingers when his tongue slides in, curving upward.

  “Fuck, Silas—Michael.”

  It’s as though he’s a different man. His head lifts at the sound of his name, and then he yanks on my hips. I tumble into his lap, and his hand lifts to my hair as he crushes my mouth to his. I taste myself on his lips, but neither of us seems to care. His nails drag on my scalp, and then he grabs my face. Shit, I’ve never been kissed like this. I feel as though I’m about to faint because I can hardly get any air, but then his tongue slips inside my mouth. I fall backward, onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. Silas covers me, shielding me from the heat of the fire but not from his body.

  “I fucking need you.”

  Then I’m stunned, because the way he says it sounds like I’m more to him than just good sex.

  I want to touch his face and reassure him that I need him just as much, but I think he already knows it. I sit upright and touch his bulging cock, which feels like a rock under my fingers. Then I unzip his slacks, helping him push them down his muscular thighs that I love running my hands over. His briefs are soon to follow, and I watch with impatience as he springs free. My mouth waters at the sight of him. He tears off his shirt haphazardly while his expression hardens with lust. I watch it eagerly, like unwrapping a gift, and nearly sigh at the sight.

  The fire deepens the shadows of his muscles, making him look fucking ripped.

  “Come here. I want you in my mouth.”

  The shadows make his sweet smile look menacing. “It’s our wedding night.”

  “So?”

  “I wanted to be gentle, for once.”

  I’m taken aback for a moment. This is Silas we’re talking about.

  No, Silas was the man I met. The hitman for hire who whispered filth in my ear when Dad wasn’t around. He’s the kind of guy you fuck around with a couple times, but he’s not one you keep around. Definitely not marriage material, even by Black Dragons standards.

  But what about Michael?

  I feel like I barely know him.

  “You can gently fuck my mouth.”

  A grin that almost looks savage stretches across his face. I take his hips and tug, guiding him forward. He straddles me until his cock hangs over my lips, and I lift my head. The moment his cock spears my mouth, I realize that his intention to “be gentle” with me is probably going to be short-lived. His thickness stretches my lips apart as my tongue glides on the underside of his cock. As his bulbous head hits the back of my throat, he lets out a long, drawn-out, “Fuck.”

  My lips tighten around him as he glides in and out, his breath quickening. I love the way I’m able to affect him, love the way he jumps in my mouth when I flick my tongue over his head. Then he sinks in deep, testing my limits. I wrap my hands around his firm ass and I squeeze, urging him on. His hips lower, his cock bulging in my throat until I feel the cool skin of his balls, flush against my lips. He pulls back, and for a moment there’s nothing but the sound of my deep breaths, and then he pushes in again, filling my throat with cock. For several seconds he crushes my lips to his balls, and then he pulls out. His dick shines with my saliva as he sits back, his neck and face completely red. A rough hand suddenly tightens around my shoulder, and I’m pulled upright. Silas looks agitated and his face shakes with the effort of restraining himself. Gentle fingers run down my neck and circle down my flesh.

  “I’m going to make love to you. I’m going to give it to you nice and slow, because you deserve that on your wedding night.”

  When his fingers reach my tits, and the warmth of his palms envelops them, I don’t really care much about what his plans are.

  His arm slides beneath my knees, and the other goes around my back as he lifts me. I grasp his neck, feeling the strength of his body around me, inhaling the sandalwood musk of his hair. Then he sets me down on the mattress, his weight falling over me as he twists his hand in my hair, the other caressing my tits. His lips claim mine again, and I’m slightly distracted by the hardness digging into my hip, but Silas—Michael—seems to be intent on taking things slow. Man, fuck slow. Fucking him was always rough and fast. One minute I’m standing, talking to him, the other I’m naked with my legs wrapped around his waist, getting nailed on the wall.

  But I can’t pretend that his touch isn’t doing something to me. His hand floats to my face, and he brushes my cheek in a tender gesture I didn’t think he was capable of. I glide over his chest, in awe of the fact that this man is mine. Then he grips my waist, still stunning me with his kisses, and I’m convinced that he’s about to plunge his cock inside me. I wrap my legs around him, digging my heels into his back, but he lifts himself, parting his lips from mine.

  God, my skin tingles when he looks at me like that.

  “Fuck me, Silas.”

  He thumbs my bottom lip. “I’m Michael when we’re alone together.”

  Michael. It’s going to take some time getting used to.

  “Michael, I want you to fuck me hard.”

  A growl rumbles from his throat. “You’re making this very difficult for me.”

  “I don’t want sweet or gentle.”

  “You might if you knew what it felt like.”

  He hovers above me, his hand still caressing my face as he lowers himself. His pillowy lips part slightly, and I run my fingers through his curls as he seals his mouth against mine. My heart pounds from his barely there lips, and he lightly grasps my neck, my heartbeat jumping into his fingers. Then I feel a slight pressure between my legs, and my pussy throbs with an ache that I didn’t really pay attention to until now.

  I gasp as his thickness slowly spreads me open. My husband props himself up on his elbows and looks down at me, his body trembling with the effort of keeping himself from rutting me deep. His heady gaze never looks away, and I scrape my fingers over his slightly freckled arms as he slowly inches inside me. His cock hits the back of my pussy, and I feel my muscles contract over him as a wave of pleasure hits me. He slumps down to his forearms, his nose centimeters from mine as he rocks his hips back and forth.

  Si
las screws his face in concentration as I dig my nails into his back, the slow pace torturous. But he gradually fucks me faster, the room exploding with my moans as he anchors his huge cock inside me. He lays his palm flat on my chest, and then he moves across my collarbone and dips in between my tits. His hands round, taking one of my breasts to squeeze. My nipple sends a jolt of electricity to my pussy as he takes it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching me.

  Gradually he loses himself. His face twists with pain right before he slides his arms under my back, holding me close so that his damp chest glides over my body. His cock throbs as he pistons in and out, finally reaching that tempo my pussy aches for. I’m shoved deeper inside the mattress as his hips crush against mine.

  “Fawn, kiss me.”

  I turn my head and catch his lips just as he lets out a deep groan. Another deep thrust shakes my body as he comes apart, his thigh muscles spasming as his cock fills me with warm cum. Then he growls, biting my lip as he pulses inside me. I screw up my face, feeling it building up like the pressure behind a champagne cork. My pussy clenches hard and my muscles grip him, milking every drop as a wave of pleasure heats my body.

  Silas gives me a lingering kiss, the first one that sends a thrill straight to my heart. I long for another one, but he pulls back and a shaky smile staggers over his face. My heart does backflips. A pink flush gives color to his normally pale cheeks, burning the freckles dotting his skin. He looks several years younger, or maybe that’s just the dampness of his skin and his curls plastered to his head. I trace the fine stubble of his jaw, noticing how his beard seems to be a dark red. I look into his hazel eyes, marveling at the depth of color.

  “Who’s the real you? Silas or Michael?”

  “They’re both real.”

  He’s still speaking in that softened tone that I don’t recognize. Suddenly tired, he collapses on the bed and slips behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist. He drags me into his chest, and then a wave of exhaustion hits me. Faint blooms of pleasure spread when he kisses my upper back over and over. I feel something breaking inside my chest with every kiss he plants on my body.

  * * *