By the time I lifted my head, we were both dazed, and the room was pin-drop silent. I looked deep into her emerald eyes, then turned us outward to face the crowd.
“Your queen!”
The Assassins dropped to a knee and bowed their heads in one singular motion.
Then the crowd followed suit.
“Whoa,” Lyric whispered.
I nodded slowly in approval. They’d all borne witness and now pledged their allegiance. It was done. She was mine.
We lasted two hours, sixteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds at the god-awful fealty ceremony that humans called a reception. When Lyric smiled over at me from across the ballroom, her skin luminous against the crimson silk and her scent flaring with the bloom of happiness…and arousal, I decided we’d spent quite enough time in the company of others.
The crowd of black-tie nobles parted as I made my way to where Lyric stood with Ransom and Avi. Even Hawke had put on a tux, though he’d refused the tie and left the top button open.
I only paused as I reached her, lifting her against my chest and securing my arm under her knees before striding out of the room. There. Now I could breathe again.
“Hi,” she whispered, cradling the side of my face as I carried her across the courtyard.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I turned my face into her palm with a kiss.
“You’re not too bad to look at yourself,” she teased, flashing me a smile that hit me harder than one of Lachlan’s punches. Her face fell slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking that my best friend wasn’t here.” She shook her head and blinked rapidly. “It’s okay. Really.”
“So we can do it again.” Serge had appeared in front of us and opened the front door to the residence so smoothly I didn’t break my stride. Then we started up the stairs. “Something small. At night, of course. You could wear white.”
“Like…a real wedding?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Lyric, this one was as real as it gets. You’re married to me. No backing out now.” I gave her a grin, but my heart flipped at the possibility that she didn’t understand the gravity of what we’d just done. “But I don’t mind marrying you again and again if you like.”
We reached the top of the stairs, and my heartbeat accelerated. Maybe it had only been a month, but I felt like I’d been waiting to get my hands on this woman my entire life.
“I’m taking you to our room.” My voice dropped low as I passed Avi’s door and continued down the hall.
“I know.” She ran her fingers through my hair.
“I’m going to strip this dress off your body and replace it with my mouth.” There wasn’t an inch of her body I’d leave untouched tonight—today. The sun was only hours from rising, and we had as much time as we wanted. I was already hard, my stomach clenching with need.
“I like that idea.” Her lips parted, and her breath caught.
I turned slightly so I could open our door, then carried her inside, kicking it shut behind us. Serge had outdone himself. Candles covered every available surface but the floor and bed, and the Lyric’s sweet scent mixed with the scattered bouquets of white hydrangeas.
Her gaze swept over the room before locking with mine. Then her tongue peeked out, swiping over her lower lip, and I was done for.
Our mouths collided in a primal, unbridled kiss, my tongue sweeping inside to claim her with deep strokes that she answered with her own.
Her hands gripped my lapels as I lowered her to her feet, and she quickly arched against me for another kiss, then another.
Lyric was an intoxicating blend of innocence and fire, and I was completely in her thrall—but I had to stay in control if I wanted her to live through this night.
I broke the kiss, my mouth drifting down her neck and over the diamond necklace I’d sent her when the sun set this evening. “So perfect.”
Her grip shifted to my hair as my mouth ghosted over the swells of her breasts, pausing where her pulse pounded. I let myself feel the hunger, embrace and acknowledge it. Then I set it aside.
“I can feel how hungry you are,” she whispered as I rose to my full height, angling her neck for access.
My fangs lengthened, and my cock swelled.
“Later.” I turned her gently so I could examine the back of her dress. Thank God it was a zipper, or I would have shredded the whole damned thing to get her out of it.
“But that’s why the dress is crimson right?” she teased over her shoulder as I tugged the zipper down the first few inches. “Less mess. I mean…imagine white!”
Go slow. She’s never done this before, you idiot.
My fingers paused as I stroked my mouth over hers once. Twice. “Crimson is the color of life, and that’s what you are to me now—my life.” I nipped her bottom lip, careful to keep my fangs off the delicate flesh. “Now, Mrs. Markov, can I help you out of this dress?”