Page 91 of Red Dreams

“I had no idea a conscience survived in that head of hers,” Layla says.

Cassie’s shift from Morelli to Black is a subject that’s taken up many of our weeks. My daughter is always a priority, but so is my future wife. I look down at her. At the face that astounds me in any light.

I step in front of her until I dominate her entire view. “Dance with me.”

Layla's mismatched eyes sparkle as a slow, sensual beat pulses through the club. “I thought you'd never ask.”

I lead her onto the dance floor, the sea of bodies parting before us. The scent of her, citrus with a hint of vanilla, fills my senses as I pull her close.

A pulsing beat thrums through our bodies as I spin her out, then back into my arms. She molds herself to my chest, her hips swaying. I'm not much of a dancer, but it's as natural as breathing with Layla. My hands skim down her sides, relishing the dip of her waist and flare of her hips. I pull her back against me, letting her feel the hard ridge of my arousal pressing insistently against her backside.

Layla rolls her hips, grinding against me in a move that makes me grit my teeth against a groan. My fingers dig into her hips as I guide her movements, setting a tempo that borders on indecent for such a public venue. But I can't bring myself to care. Not when she feels this good in my arms.

I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You're playing with fire, Wraithling.”

She tilts her head back, her blue eye darkening almost as much as her brown one. “Take me to your hell, Scythe, because I like how it burns.”

A growl rumbles in my chest, and I nip at her earlobe. “You feel what you do to me? How much I want you?”

She reaches back, threading her fingers into my hair.

“Always,” she breathes. “I always feel how much you want me.”

I turn her in my arms until we're face-to-face, chest to chest. My thigh slips between her legs, hiking her dress up. She grinds down on it, her eyes fluttering shut at the friction. My hands skim down her sides, fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass as I guide her movements.

My lips find hers, and she kisses me back just as fiercely, her nails raking down my scalp. I groan into her mouth, the sound swallowed by the music.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I say, moving to nip at her throat. “I can never get enough of you. I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

Layla arches into me, her head falling back to expose more of her throat. I trail my lips down the slender column, pausing to lave my tongue over her tattoo. The black ink stands out starkly against her fair skin, a beautiful reminder of how far we've come.

“Kaden,” she gasps, dragging my name out like the sound of it alone will bring her to orgasm.

Her fingers fist in my hair as I suck at her pulse point, determined to leave my mark on her. To stake my claim for all to see.

The music changes to a slower beat. I slide my hands down to her thighs, hitching her legs up around my waist. She locks her ankles at the small of my back, pressing herself intimately against me. I can feel the heat of her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties and my slacks. My blood boils with want.

I capture her lips again, devouring her mouth with a kiss that is all tongues and teeth. She matches me, stroke for stroke, pouring every ounce of her desire into the slant of her lips against mine.

The rest of the world falls away until there is only her. Her scent, her taste, her touch. She is my beginning and my end, my salvation and my damnation.

I pull back just enough to rasp against her lips, “Marry me. Tonight. Right now.”

Layla's eyes widen, her breath catching. “What? But we already have a date set for next month.”

“I don't want to wait another moment to call you my wife. To vow myself to you entirely.”

Joy, fierce and bright, surges through my veins. I capture her face between my hands and kiss her deeply, reverently.

The vow I give Layla tonight won’t be spoken in front of gods or witnesses—it will be carved into the marrow of her bones, seared into her soul, just as she’s burned into mine. I’ll claim her in every way a man like me can—without mercy, without repentance, without end.

When she nods, her smile bright but trembling, I take her hand. The weight of her trust is staggering, her love as brutal as the man she chose. And as I lead her toward the only ceremony I’ll ever deserve, I catch Cassie’s eye. She smirks, lifting her glass with a mix of disgust and grudging approval.

This isn’t the beginning of a happy ending.

But it is the beginning of our forever—unforgiving, unyielding, and ours.