Covet the Night, page 47
Franklin's words were underlined with menace as she'd sipped her wine. She prattled on about the true effectiveness of William’s superior strength and speed, with Fox able to feel every blow dealt to him. Fox was impressed with herself for maintaining a neutral expression throughout their exchange, even though her blood boiled with the need to sink her fangs into Franklin's skinny throat and drain her dry. Luckily, Hazel and Lily had been nearby to shoo the owl shifter away. Fox could still hear Franklin's laughter in her ear as she departed with an exaggerated curtsy.
"Should I find a bottle of blut wein for us?" Marigold asked as they neared the grand ballroom’s exit.
Fox peeked over her shoulder, finding William's hot gaze upon her retreating figure. She snuck him a smirk and a wink. His hand rose in response, fingers spread—five minutes, which was what they'd agreed to. Marigold and Cissy would help her out of her gown, and William would be directly behind them. Or rather five minutes behind them.
"Oh!" Fox stopped abruptly, bumping into Cissy's outstretched arm.
Marigold halted her search for blut wein, scrunching her nose up at the most recent obstacle in their quest to return Fox to her quarters. "What do you want?"
Luka Krovopuskov stood before them, dressed in formal tails and a bow tie. He was even more devilishly handsome than Fox recalled now that he stood before them without a mask obscuring his face: dark hair, dark eyes, and a hooded gaze that was set permanently in a smolder.
"Only to wish the lady congratulations," he purred in his Russian accent. As he tipped to bow, Marigold snatched Fox's wrist and dragged her around him.
"The lady thanks you," she called over her shoulder, "but the lady must prepare for her wedding night. Good night."
With Marigold and Cissy at her side, they reached her new apartment without further interruption.
"Stand here," Cissy ordered, pointing to the empty space between two leather bucket chairs. "Hold still," she scolded, "or I'll ruin all these lovely buttons on your dress."
Fox grinned and did as she was told. "I've already accidentally destroyed about half my wardrobe," she told them with a laugh. Three weeks a vampyré, and she'd yet to fully grasp her strength and speed. She wondered when she would.
"It's so cozy in here." Marigold ran her fingers over the stone hearth's mantel. "I can't believe they were able to construct all this in such a short period."
The three admired Fox's receiving room with its rich teal walls and leather and cream-colored furnishings. "I'm rather surprised by it," Cissy admitted as she plucked the pearl buttons from their loops. "There's no red in sight. Not even a rose!"
Fox's grin turned smug. "Red was saved for the bedroom to inspire passion."
Marigold tossed back her head and laughed. Of the three, she'd taken most easily to the changes of becoming a vampyré. She was confident and a quick learner. Fox thought her boost in confidence was also due to her sire becoming the head of the Roux household with not a single voice raised in protest.
"There! You can step out of your dress now," Cissy announced.
Fox laughed as she stood before them in her black lingerie, they in gowns of scarlet and wine.
"This is a lovely gown, Fox." Cissy picked up her reception dress with care. The silk creation was embroidered throughout with gold thread and a train that tripped Fox more than once.
"It was a lovely ceremony and reception, too," Marigold added.
"It was, wasn't it?"
Fox sighed and sat on one of the chair’s thick armrests, watching as her two sisters meandered about the room, spying its small treasures. She was still in awe of how close they'd become since their turning. After everything they'd been through, and the harsh words spoken, now Fox couldn't imagine her eternal life without them.
The ceremony was held in the Lunarium under twinkling lights and enchantingly dense foliage of fern and shrubbery. Bodies packed the room with what looked like the entirety of the court, until they arrived at the reception, where the number of attendees doubled. The Royal Ballroom sparkled from floor to ceiling, with music, provisions, and laughter flowing freely.
Fox glanced at her dress in Cissy's arms. She’d worn three gowns. The first was a deceivingly simple and elegant white wedding gown that brought tears to William's eyes. The second was a daring red piece for the dinner reception. Her third was in Cissy's mindful care.
William, on the other hand, had no outfit changes. Clad in a kilt and plaid of brown and green, he was the epitome of handsome. His copper eyes, filled with adoration, morphed to a smolder as he claimed her with a kiss in front of the whooping and cheering Dark Court. He held nothing back at the moment they were pronounced man and wife, his lips taking and tongue teasing her into an incoherent mess.
She wasn't the only one left disheveled by their first kiss as husband and wife. By the time they broke apart, William's arousal was no simple task to hide. Fox bit her bottom lip to conceal her amusement and desire at the recent memory.
"Are you blushing?" Marigold asked with a startled laugh.
"Someone's looking forward to her wedding night," Cissy teased.
"Someone is looking forward to no interruptions."
Marigold and Cissy smirked at Fox. Their every move together had been chaperoned by members of both the Roux and Gunwyn Households. Per the agreed-upon negotiations, their binding would be saved for their wedding night and not a minute sooner. There'd been little the pair could do to protest given the guilt-laden hour’s lecture they both received.
"I'll miss being a chaperone," Cissy declared as Marigold took a seat near the crackling fire.
"Why?"
Cissy shrugged and grinned playfully at Marigold. "It was fun making them both scowl or sigh any time I told them they were getting too close."
"You and half the sisterhood." The three sobered, sharing knowing glances at the doleful tone Fox took. Cissy set down Fox's dress on the back of one of the cream-colored chairs and walked to her.
"They'll come around," she said, moving behind her to pluck the pins from her hair. "They'll have to if they want Cassia's favor."
Marigold nodded, her face set in serious contemplation as she leaned back in her chair to stare at the pair. "Cassia likes you."
"She likes the opportunity I've presented to the sisterhood with my union to William."
Marigold shrugged. "Does it really matter why she likes you? She does, and her favor will smooth over any lingering apathy toward your union with William."
Their eyes met. "And Danica?"
Marigold averted her gaze to the fireplace. Its embers reflected in her eyes. "She may take a bit longer."
Danica was outraged at the news of their sanctioned union, going so far as to confront Fox when she returned from a luncheon with William and his household. She accused Fox of using her sympathies against her and seethed about the unfairness of it all. Others had whispered similar opinions, but none louder than Danica’s sister line. They had voiced their support of Danica, echoing sentiments of unfairness and deception that were squashed by Poppy and Hazel. They callously reminded them that Fox and William’s union would save the Roux from certain ruin after their merciless killing of the sorcerers had left their reputation in tatters. Though they’d quieted, Fox still felt their burning regard on her back. They would not forgive her easily, if ever. She sighed.
"And her sister line," Marigold continued with a grim frown before she shrugged and rolled her eyes. "But they hardly matter in the scheme of things. They're only three strong. Cassia has the support of your sister line and the Rosemary line, and that's all she needs. No offense, Cissy."
"None taken." Cissy took the fall of her matriarch rather well—most did, as it happened. Peony’s rule had devolved to one driven by her paranoia and need for absolute control. A change in leadership, the sisters, whispered, had long been coming. Fox assumed Cissy was simply happy to be out from under her thumb, having learned more of Peony’s high-handed and vindictive spirit toward her own sister line in private.
"What did you two make of the crowd?" Fox asked, her gaze drifting to the mantle's clock. They had a minute or so more alone, and after warnings from both a sorceress and a shifter, she was nervous about how the wedding went over with the court.
"They seemed happy enough to me," Cissy commented, combing her fingers through Fox's hair, deftly plucking out the pins she'd missed. "But looks can be deceiving. Regardless, I doubt anything untoward will happen. The important people—"
"The ones with the loudest voices," Marigold pitched in, swinging her gaze back to the pair.
"—were mollified," Cissy continued. "I'm sure things will settle back into a routine soon enough, and we can go about our new lives without having to worry about being hunted down. Order, so to speak, has been restored. Besides, no one would dare go after you or our household so soon after William was officially named a Roux consort and honorary champion."
Fox groaned and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Cissy and Marigold were poised to leave at her front door. Matching smirks marked their faces.
"Enjoy your wedding night, sister,” Cissy called.
"Good night," Fox sang sweetly back. They left, the door only just shutting behind them when it swung back open to reveal her husband. Her soulmark. "William."
Fox rose from her seat clad in a black bustier and matching lacy underwear to greet him. Her smile was pure sin.
"Are you going to shut the door? Or were you planning to have an audience for our binding?"
With a flick of his wrist, the door snapped shut. His soulmark grinned, then launched herself at him. William caught her with a laugh, gliding his hands up her thighs as she wrapped them around his waist, palms settling on her rear end. His fingers coasted along the delicate line of lace hugging her cheeks as Fox nuzzled his neck.
In his opinion, the ceremony was ostentatious, and the pomp and ceremony leading up to their vows unbearable.
But seeing her walk down the aisle….
His heart filled with joy at the memory. He'd never forget it. Nor the way she melted at his kiss for all to see in the Dark Court. He'd done the same. He'd relished the little mewls and sounds she made. His Gwen—no, he corrected swiftly, my Fox.
He grinned as her teeth nibbled along the length of his neck.
William thought the name suited her. She was playful, mischievous, and keen to learn. Vampyrism, he decided, suited her. That he ever thought she would be anything but magnificent was a disservice to her. He should have known his soulmark would exceed his expectations.
"Hungry?"
"Always," Fox murmured against his neck somewhat sheepishly. Both chuckled.
William set her down on her feet and took a step back to take a proper look at her. He would keep her locked in here for a week… or a month. She'd taken on some weight since turning, her young vampyré body building its strength with every drop of blood that hit her tongue, fine-tuning her into the perfect predator. It warmed him to see her flourish after seeing her so ill.
But it was clear she was unused to her newfound strength and energy. Her stamina and hyper focus kept him on his toes. He planned on taking full advantage of both tonight.
And the next.
And the next.
Forever. A wave of possessiveness brought his animalistic side forward.
Fox stared back at him boldly, and, sensing his change, her pupils dilated. The little ring of silver contrasted starkly with her dark brown eyes.
"Nervous?" he questioned, removing the plaid from his shoulder and tossing it aside.
She paused, her eyes following the methodical movements of his hand as he peeled away the layers he wore.
Fox shook her head, then leaned close and whispered, "Hungry."
She sprinted off to the bedroom with a gay laugh and crashed onto the bed, her exuberance and momentum jarring the mattress and frame. She quickly righted it before putting herself back on the plush mattress's center. Truth be told, she was a touch nervous. But only for the sheer size of him.
He stood in the bedroom doorway, greedily taking in the sight of her on their bed. A pleased rumble made its way out of him as he approached, removing his final garment before reaching her: his kilt.
Fox bit back a moan to see the thick shaft standing stiff amid a thatch of dark hair. William stalked to the bed, one hand gripping his shaft and pumping languidly as he devoured her with his eyes.
By the time he spoke, his eyes were vampyric silver. "I want you as I would have had you were we in a different time—my time, back when I was still a man and fully lycan." He bent at the waist and reached for her. He casually hooked his hand around her calf and drew her forward far enough that he could place a kiss on her ankle. "Will you do that for me, sweet?"
Fox nodded. Her mouth was dry, and her body ached to feel his touch.
William smiled. "Good. Go on, then, and get on your hands and knees."
A stab of desire hit Fox's center. Warmth, slippery and wet, pooled between her thighs as she positioned herself to his will. He palmed her hips, urging her back until her feet hung off the end of the bed. Satisfied with her placement, he then pushed her thighs farther apart. She shivered at the firm guidance. She had casual flings and lackluster boyfriends before, but this was something completely foreign. She wasn't used to putting herself in such a vulnerable position or feeling so heated at the thought of being at another's mercy.
William's breath on her folds only heightened her awareness of her mounting excitement. She stretched back, earning a sharp slap to her ass. Fox yelped and glared over her shoulder. A sexy grin played on his lips as he palmed the offended cheek. And then he ripped off her underwear.
Before she could reprimand him, William dove for her, his mouth attacked her fevered center, lapping at her as if the world were to end. She cried out in pleasure.
"Delicious," he breathed, tracing her slick folds with the tip of his tongue before pressing inside. Fox arched at the invasion. Molten hunger tightened her abdomen as he taunted and teased her with his tongue. His relentless assault left her clawing at the bed as she begged and pleaded for release. William kept a tight hold of her, one hand on her hip, the other spreading her cheeks wider apart to ravish her properly.
"Please." Fox's voice held a quiver to it. Her hands fisted the bed's blanket. Every time she reached her precipice, William withdrew to teasingly bite her inner thigh or pay special care to some area left untouched for too long.
He slapped the side of her ass, the sharp sting inflaming her with wanton desire. She was so close….
"Please, William."
A pleased growl erupted from him before fingers and tongue joined forces to bring her to climax. Fox collapsed to her elbows as her orgasm abated. A delicious tingling washed over her body. Turning her face into the plush bed, she released a shaky moan, her body sagging in satisfaction, but she was given no concession.
William entered her, the head of his erection driving into her with maddening slowness, leaving her little choice but to experience every inch of him. She gasped as her sheath contracted around him, urging him on and pulling him deeper as if it had a will of its own.
He groaned as he reached the hilt and was engulfed by her heat.
The bond between them shuddered with their combined need. It took little persuasion to abandon his slow pace and build to a powerful rhythm. The sound of their bodies joining filled the room, spurring their passions higher.
"Harder," Fox choked out, hands clawing for purchase with each fierce thrust of William's hips.
He cursed, tightening his grip on her waist. "I'm tryin’ not to hurt ya," he said through gritted teeth, though his force increased. Her sex grew impossibly wetter. "I want to take ya again and again," he panted. "Tonight. Forever."
Fox shivered. "Then let me be on top."
He stilled inside her, the viselike grip of her quim curbing him to her every need. Fast as could be, he switched their positions, pulling her on top of him as he sat against the head of the bed.
Fox sank down readily on his staff, riding him like a woman possessed. But no amount of grinding or pumping could alleviate the itch beneath her skin. There was a peak she couldn't reach—not without him.
"Please," she begged, digging her fingernails into his shoulders till beads of red appeared. A sheen of sweat coated William's brow. A look of deep concentration was etched on his face, his jaw clenched and eyes drawn tight.
"You're ready to be bound?"
She was nodding before he finished the question.
He knew it was what she needed, her body’s wants and desires flooding his own to tell him without words what it longed for. A flicker of nerves struck him. This was the moment he’d waited for his entire life. To have her completely. His soulmark. Gwen. Fox. His sweet love.
Fox’s motions slowed, looking to him askance as his nervous energy seeped through their bond.
His hand inched up her stomach and sternum to her soulmark.
William swallowed. "I'm never gonna let anything happen to you again," he told her fiercely as he stared into her eyes.
Her movements stalled entirely as she leaned in close to him, ensnaring him in her arms and twining her feet around them until they were a single knot. He was pressed deeply inside her, almost painfully at the precise angle they kept, but Fox didn't care. Her core tightened reflexively, drawing a ragged moan from both of them before they kissed passionately.
"I know," she whispered and pressed a trembling kiss against his lips. "And I'll never let anyone hurt you."
Love flowed around them and through them. William secured her more firmly to him, his hand hovering above her soulmark. Fox gave a shaky nod.
"I bind myself to you, Gwendolyn Foxglove Roux." William touched her soulmark. She didn't experience fireworks or dazzling pleasure as she had every other time. This time, she felt whole.
Twin tears ran down Fox’s face as she answered in kind. She reached for his soulmark high on his spine amid a spiral of other tattoos—hidden in plain sight. "I bind myself to you, William Gunwyn Douglas."
