Bride Behind the Mask

Chapter 14: The Real Feast (Part 2 of 2)

Dedicated to a random commenter @lili-jolie - Thank you!

Chapter 14: The Real Feast (Part 2 of 2)

Amelia was dazed momentarily before she found her bearings. "I want a divorce!" she repeated with a scowl at him and made to clamber down from the bed.

Her efforts to do so were crushed by the muscled body that pressed into hers, and soon her wrists were held down in bed by the manacles of Drake's strong hands.

He kissed her. "You don't."

"I do. I hate you!"

He kissed her again. "You don't."

"I do!" She struggled against his grip, just as she struggled to calm the flutters in her belly, to no avail.

He bent down wordlessly to kiss her against the side of her neck.

"I hate you! I want a divorce!" she insisted. "I hate you!"

With her wrists pinned down on either side of her head, she kicked her legs as he kissed and nibbled his way down to the base of her throat.

His breath burned against her skin, a delicious burn that threatened to send her into delirium if she did not stand her ground. "Stop it Drake, I haven't finished talking."

For the first time, he complied and lifted his face to gaze right into hers with a heat that stunned her to the core. "You have. You have made your point sufficiently clear." He dipped down again to nip at her earlobe. "We need to consummate this marriage."

"Are you daft! That's not—"

She hitched a breath as he swept his tongue up the side of her ear, and down again. She shuddered at the new sensations that overtook her body and drowned her thoughts of protest. He did the same thing again. And again.

If she'd realised then that she was arching her body into his in silent encouragement, she would almost certainly have been mortified. But it was apparent her 'terrible, cunning husband' wasn't about to remind her.

He pushed her slender wrists up above her head and held them in place with the grip of one large hand. The other moved to hold her at the chin. The flush of her face extended down to her décolletage. "Drake, what are you—"

He kissed her full on the lips. As he slid the hand from her chin down to cup one full breast, Amelia's body tautened at once like a bowstring poised for release. He rubbed a thumb over the tip through the fabric of her dress, drawing from her a surprised gasp that presented a timely opportunity for him to deepen the kiss.

If she was not lost before, she most certainly was now.

Drake swirled his tongue against hers as his thumb drew tantalisingly slow circles around a sensitive nipple over and over again until it hardened through her dress. She whimpered into his mouth with every caress and flick of his thumb.

"Would you like me to stop?" he murmured against her lips.

Her first instinct was to call for an end to whatever he was doing, but—

"Think carefully before you answer, Amelia." Drake pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes, darkened with lust, bore deep into her own, as if to command from her some truth she'd never dared admit to herself.

Yet she could not heed his request, for the thinking part her mind was overpowered by another more curious and uninhibited part that was oft-guilty for landing her in trouble. And that part let her irresponsible heartstrings tug her along, pulling Drake back into her by the collars of his shirt.