Page 61 of Caroline the Cruel
Caroline, now crowned, began her ascent to the dais, and the drums started their procession once again. The closer she came, the more active the little flutters in his chest. Was it getting louder? The drumbeats had to be coming in closer succession.
He swallowed deeply. “Caroline,” he said, voice barely a breath, bringing her outstretched hand to his lips. She terrified him and made his blood race. Another woman would have never been enough. He was ready to give himself to her.
Caroline finished repeating her fifth line and her feet were starting to ache. Veetula ceremonies were a tedious thing. In Everstal it would be fifteen minutes tops. She studied the man across from her, who seemed quite glad to be standing through the excessive ceremony. His grin jumped over to her and her lips tugged upward.
Damn, he was stunning. Over six and a half feet of pure lean muscle, accentuated by the pale blue lines running the length of his suit, all hers. His hair had grown even longer, and she’d been pleased he’d left it a little messy. Her palms itched as she imagined how in a few short hours she’d be running her fingers through it. She couldn’t wait to have those glowing eyes rove over every inch of the woman who was now his. She bit her lower lip at the thought.
“Are you even listening?” he whispered, and her face flamed.
She discreetly shook her head like a naughty child.
“I figured you might have caught that last part.” The mischievous glint in his eyes made the dragon that lived in her chest beat its wings relentlessly. “No, nothing?” he teased when she didn’t respond.
Breicher leaned forward, his stubble tickling her neck as he murmured, “His holiness has said I may kiss you now.”
Her mouth fell open as she tilted her head up to him. Was she salivating? She was nodding eagerly, and she didn’t care who saw.
His lips pressed into hers. Not soft like the first time, but intentional, as if he’d been thinking about exactly what he’d wanted the kiss to say. His hand made its way around the small of her back and the other threaded into her hair, and he deepened the kiss. Finally.
It wasn’t the type of chaste kiss shared between a couple at an Everstal wedding ceremony. The way his lips moved against hers had heat, passion. She’d told him he’d better set the sky alight. But this wasn’t bright like fireworks—it was deep and soulful like being dragged to the depths of the ocean and surrendering willingly. Her mouth opened to moan, and his tongue swept in capturing the sound and her mind emptied, becoming as vast as the sky at night. There was only them in that moment, spinning in time like a lost star held in the gravity of something so much larger than itself. His kiss was generous and demanding, all-consuming.
She was breathless when he pulled away.
“If I kiss you anymore, I’m going to spring free from my pants in front of all these people.” He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her in front of him, and they shared a giggle. He leaned down. “I hope that was sufficient, wife?”
Wife. The word made her stomach jump. She edged up to steal another kiss.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said in a growl, and he turned her so her back was toward him. The holy man was saying something about presenting the Queen and King of the Joined Kingdoms and Jaden presented the matching crown she had made to Breicher.
Caroline snaked her hand between them, finding the hardness nudging into her back, and gave it a rub. Breicher jerked his hips backward, almost tipping his new crown off his head.
“Please join the happy couple in the Great Hall for drinks and dancing,” the holy man proclaimed.
With the announcement, and the distracted guests, Breicher grabbed her and pulled her into a hallway behind the dais. He slammed her into the wall and had her dress halfway up her hips and was tugging a leg around his waist. “I want you so bad,” he breathed into her neck. “Caroline, it’s painful how much I need this.”
She gasped as his teeth grazed down her decolletage and onto the swell of her breast he was working to free. “Breicher, the door is right there. Hundreds of people, right there,” she said.
He didn’t seem to hear her. Her husband was so consumed worshiping her peaked nipple and his other hand was creeping dangerously close to her undergarments.Fuck it, she thought. She was queen, and she’d have him wherever she wanted. His fingers slipped beneath her lacy ruined panties, nudging at her entrance, and she tossed her head back into the stone wall so hard a small crack sounded through the corridor.
“Hundreds of people are waiting on you two.” Hollis’s voice followed the sound. How had she not heard him slip through the door?
Breicher released her underwear and gripped her thigh like he was fighting for control. “They can wait all night for all I care,” Breicher said, and an agitated protest rumbled through her. Gods, she was like a fawn beneath a mountain cat the way he was keeping her between himself and the wall, like he wouldn’t share his fresh kill.
Then it occurred to her. He was really going to fuck her in this hallway if she didn’t redirect him. She was going to let him, but Hollis had broken the lust addled haze. That wouldn’t do. “Hey,” she said, softening her voice, “your brother’s right. Let’s go to the party.” When he grumbled, she grabbed his cheeks and gave him a sweet kiss. “Think of how much better it will be after all this waiting?”
Breicher released her leg and brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking the taste of her off them, keeping the smoldering eye contact. She almost slid to the floor, the way her knees went jelly, but he helped her up, putting her clothing back together.
“Should I go touch up my make-up?” she asked, smoothing back her hair.
Breicher pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and assessed her face. “No, I want them to see you like this. You look deliciously ravished, my bride.”
There was the predator she’d married. Breicher grabbed her hand and he and Hollis led them away.
Two mind-numbing hours later, Breicher’s wife asked, “Can’t we end this and go somewhere, husband?” Her thighs clenched beneath his palm, which was possessively splayed across them.
His deep, satisfied male chuckle vibrated through the bench they were both sitting on. Breicher had never felt luckier. It was a miracle the shift and he no longer felt the guilt.
There was still a line of guests waiting to give their congratulations. She’d made him wait in the hallway. Now it was his turn.
