Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I don’t realize he’s pulled back until the pad of his thumb slides along my lower lip. My eyes peel open with effort, and the look in his nearly has my knees buckling.
It’s all right there in his steady gaze, the truth to his words.
He means every one; I can feel it deep in my bones.
Maybe even in my soul.
Me and him.
Fires of hell.
Always.
I’m not his temporary wife. There will be none after me, and the before doesn’t even fucking matter because I too hold the same trust. In him. In us.
Yes, I realize suddenly. I did know he loves me.
Always a Fikile…
“Enzo…”
“Go on,” he whispers, but his hold on me tightens rather than letting go.
My stunned expression finally washes away, and a smile I can’t hold back takes over. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him hard and fierce, my tongue forcing its way through his lips, and I don’t stop. I hop up, and he catches me, pressing me to the wall as his dick hardens between us.
I want to go back upstairs, get naked and sweaty and bent over the balcony, but a throat clears, and he growls his annoyance, making me chuckle against his lips.
Slowly, he backs up, but he doesn’t set me down. He carries me the final steps, only lowering me when we’ve reached the back door, the girls all standing around impatiently waiting for me. For what, I don’t know.
Grandma stands between the two double doors, hands folded in front of her, also waiting not so patiently.
A frown pulls at my lips, and when she looks up over my head, assumingly at Enzo, he must give her the go-ahead as in the next moment, she spins, pushing the doors open with one quick swoop.
Someone catches each one from the outside, holding them open, and the girls whistle as they walk out.
Not me, though.
I’m stuck where I stand, mouth open and a deep coiling twisting low in my stomach.
Rocklin, Bronx, and Delta all disappear, but I just stand there, blinking.
Enzo wraps his arms around me from behind, but I still don’t move, don’t look away.
“You’re not going to accomplish much by standing here, wife.”
“What…”
Rather than turning my body to face his, he comes to stand in front of me, pulling my hair over my shoulders and rubbing a thick curl between his fingers. He tips his head. “I took something from you and it’s time I give it back. It’s time the world knows what I’ve known for a long time.”
“That you’re mine,” I breathe, the thought leaving me before I even realize I’ve thought it at all.
His eyes flare, possessiveness rolling off him in waves at my words. “Exactly. Time to show them all there is no me without you, no you without me. We are Fikiles. Now, get out there. Pick a dress. A flower. A cake. Pick them all for all I fucking care.”
My body starts to tremble, an electric energy coursing through me instantly, making my heart pound with excitement. “A wedding.”
“Our wedding. Tomorrow.”
I squeal, then freeze, eyes going wide. “Tomorrow?!”
Enzo chuckles, swatting my ass. “Better hurry, Little Bride. The clock is ticking, and I’m done waiting.”
My teeth sink into my inner cheek, and I surge onto my toes, pressing a hard kiss to his lips.
“Go.”
I go, but just as I’m about to cross the threshold, a thought occurs to me then and I spin around. “Where’s Katana?”
He watches me closely, then drops his chin an inch, shame I’ve never seen him wear weighing down his expression. “She will never overshadow you in any way ever again.”
My pulse pounds a little harder, the part of me where love is supposed to live opening up a little more.
My smile is soft as I hold his stare. “Will you ask someone to send her down for me?”
“Baby—” He shakes his head.
I hold my hand up. “She’s all alone in all this. We’re all she has.”
Enzo’s eyes bore into mine, and I know without a doubt he wants to throw me over his shoulder right now and haul me out of here.
Later, dear husband.
“You’re more than I deserve,” he rasps.
“And you’re everything I ever wanted.”
He charges me instantly, and I scream, barely dodging his grasp as I run out the door.
Only when I’m down the steps, officially entering into the wonderland he has set up outside for me, do I spin around to smile.
His hands are curled around the frame above his head, eyes locked on mine. I follow the length of his arms, strong and stretching his suit just right, the cut of his biceps visible through the thick material and the broad curve of his shoulders. That vein that runs down his neck. My mark. Subconsciously, my thumb rubs along the underside of my ring finger, my tongue sliding out to wet my lips.