Page 59 of Arranged Devotion
Far from it.Goodis a planet in some distant solar system. I see the light ofgoodon a million-year delay at best.
“I’m fine.”
“Alright.” He awkwardly holds out an elbow. “This’ll be over soon.”
The wedding planner ushers us forward and pushes open the doors.
“People keep talking about this like I’m going to be killed.”
He grimaces as the crowd turns toward us. There are so many faces it’s overwhelming. I’m dimly aware of the sea of them, their attention like a weight drowning me.
“Nobody ever said marriage was easy,” he grumbles and starts forward down the aisle.
CHAPTER 15
REGAN
It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
I’m supposed to be standing up here in front of a room filled with violent strangers, hating every second of my own wedding.
Instead, there’s Liam.
Looking at me with hungry eyes and a dangerous smile. Hands laced against mine. Calloused fingers squeezing every time my attention drifts away, dragging me back. His cheeks covered in stubble, his hair styled perfectly, his tuxedo making him look even more deadly. Handsome in a way he’s got no right to be.
His touch is warm and comforting, and it’s wrong, it’s all wrong.
I should be hating every second.
Instead, I find myself trying not to smile back, struggling against the bizarre medley of butterflies breaking against my stomach. I’m weirdly nervous as the priest goes through the ceremony, and I should probably pay attention since this is also a covenantwith God, but I can’t bring myself to think about anyone other than the devil I’m marrying.
I know that mouth. I know what it feels like between my legs. I know what he sounds like when he comes, what it feels like when he sinks inside of me, how his strong arms tug me closer. I know the rhythms of him in ways I definitely shouldn’t.
In ways I wish I didn’t.
But he holds me there. He keeps me grounded when I’m terrified, I might drift, and when the priest announces our official union and tells Liam he can go ahead and kiss me if he wants, there’s no hesitation.
My husband drags me closer in front of a few hundred strangers and kisses me like we’ve been in love for decades.
His taste floods me and my brain’s a messy slurry of lust, confusion, and hate, all pulsing around him.
This bastard I married.
“You did good,” he says as we walk down the aisle together, his grip tight on my hand, still intent on keeping me together. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t have to marry yourself.”
“Love, I’ve been stuck inside this my whole life. You think I don’t know how wonderful it is to be around me?”
“That’s not the feeling I get.”
“Right, of course not, instead your knees lock together and you have a knot of pure desire burning down into that lovely core of yours, right?”
“More like a distinct sensation of food poisoning.”
“I’m happy I make you feel anything at all.”
We step out into the atrium. The wedding planner flutters around us like a lost dove, cooing and saying how good we look. I’m posed in front of cameras as Liam lazily smiles, an arm draped over my shoulders possessively. “Who’s going to look at these?” I say under my breath as a flash goes off in my face.
