Obsession (Sinners of New Orleans #3)

Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Madi

I t’s my wedding night. I’m not an idiot. I know what’s expected of me tonight, and the idea of it has my stomach churning. Not to mention, Adrian announcing that he’s going to punish me for my antics.

I have myself locked inside the master bathroom after I ran away from my new husband downstairs. I’m avoiding leaving the safety of this room to see what’s in store for me in my new bedroom. Bedroom. I groan at the thought. I have to share a bed with him tonight.

Taking my time, I strip out of the silk gown, hanging it on the back of the bathroom door while I change into my pajamas. I picked the least revealing, least sexy set for tonight. I don’t want to give him any impression that I’m interested in anything he has to offer. So I chose long black pants and a matching button-down top that I do up to my neck. I waste more time washing my face slowly and thoroughly. Then I slather it with serums and creams until I run out of stuff to do. Finally, sucking in a long breath, I open the bathroom door.

Adrian is waiting for me on the bed, still in his suit sans the jacket and tie. His head pops up when I exit, his eyes roaming over my conservative attire. There’s an awkward tension that buzzes through the room as we stare at each other for a long moment.

“Cute,” he finally says, the words slicing through that tension like a knife.

“It’s not for you,” I spit out in a rush, which only elicits a laugh from my new husband. Husband , that word makes me cringe.

“Still,” he says, rising from the bed as his fingers reach for the buttons on his shirt. I swallow thickly as he undoes the top one, revealing the beginning of his chest covered in dark hair. “I like it.”

I blink rapidly, turning my head so I’m not looking at him while he continues to undo the buttons one by one. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind and be sure to buy pajamas you don’t like.”

Adrian barks out another laugh. “Feisty,” he says in his deep tenor, then takes another step, this time bringing himself too close to me. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. I take a step away, but my back hits the dresser. “Ya know, I think I like that too.”

The last button comes undone and then he’s sliding the white shirt down his toned arms. Toned arms that I should not be looking at, least of all admiring. Adrian catches my gaze.

“Do you like the view?” he asks with a smirk.

I feel trapped between him and this piece of furniture, watching as he tosses the shirt in a way I should not find sexy. I need to get a grip. “Not even a little bit.”

When he laughs again, this time it’s louder. I’m having the opposite effect than what I planned. I need to abort all plans and just go to bed before he can toy with me anymore. My only problem now is that he’s blocking my path.

“What’s wrong, Madi?” he asks, amusement tinting his words.

“Nothing.” I swallow.

“Nothing?” he mocks. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” I answer too quickly, and his eyebrow ticks up. He moves in closer, his hands hitting the edge of the dresser behind me, caging me in without laying a finger on me. “I don’t bite, princess.”

“I know that,” I huff.

“Then tell me,”—his hot breath skates across my cheek—“what’s wrong? What are you afraid of?”

I don’t like the insinuation that I’m afraid of anything. Even though I’d be lying if I said I’m not afraid, at least a little bit, of what he might do to me tonight. It’s not the pain, per se. I’ve learned how to take that over the years. But mental scars are harder to heal.

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Tell me,” he urges again, this time softer. He’s so close, his arms barely grazing my sides.

I need to tell him something so he backs off, and admitting I’m afraid of sleeping with him because I’m a virgin doesn’t feel like the best thing to say. “I didn’t realize we were going to share a bed,” I settle on.

“Well, you are my wife,” he emphasizes the title, “and typically, husbands and wives share a bed.”

“I know, I just…”

“What?” He touches me now, a light brush of his fingers against my arm.

“I’d prefer my own room.”

“Not happening.” His answer is quick, not even a second of thought.

I frown. “You-”

I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence, not as he picks me up and tosses me onto the bed effortlessly. My back lands on the soft mattress and my breath leaves my chest in a swoosh. Adrian crawls onto the bed within the next second, his body hovering above mine.

“I owe you a punishment, because you couldn’t just walk down the aisle like a good princess and repeat your vows nicely.”

I suck in another breath, my senses in overdrive with Adrian above me like this. He smells too damn good, something that drives me crazy, considering we just spent hours at wedding festivities. My makeup was melting off me and I was covered in a sheen of sweat, but Adrian still looks perfect. His minty breath skates over my cheek as he leans in.

“Now, princess, punishments don’t have to hurt.” I don’t know what he means by that, but there’s a glint in his eyes, so I assume he’s about to show me.

Slowly, his fingers trail down my side, goosebumps rising under my pajamas. He reaches the waistband of my pants and begins to tug on the fabric.

“Wait.” I reach for his hands, attempting to stop him, but he slaps mine away.

“Tell me, princess, has anyone actually ever touched you here?” As he asks the question, his hand moves over the material to cup my sex. I told Rafe Bianchi that I wasn’t a virgin—my attempt to keep him from wanting to marry me—which worked, except now, here I am, lying under Adrian while he asks the same question.

The lie sits on my tongue. I want nothing more than to tell him lots of men have touched me there. That I’m so far from being pure, he might as well apply for an annulment and let me go. But I don’t. I just chew on my lip while his dark eyes stare me down.

“I don’t think anyone has,” he muses. “I think that was a lie to keep Rafe Bianchi away from you.” He must see the truth flickering in my eyes. “I’m not mad that you lied to him, princess. But don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”

I swallow thickly, the lie stuck in my throat. “Yes.” The admission is so low, so soft, and it brings a grin to Adrian’s lips.

“So no one has ever made this sweet pussy come, then?”

I can’t even open my mouth to respond. All the oxygen feels like it’s been sucked from the room as my heart gallops in anticipation. I shake my head.

“ Good girl,” Adrian purrs, and then he’s tugging on the waistband of my pants, taking them off with my panties in one effective swipe.

Air catches in my lungs as Adrian runs his nose over my exposed pussy, inhaling deeply. Embarrassment floods my cheeks with a shade of red. I’ve never had anyone that close to my sex before, let alone sniffing me.

“What are you-” My words freeze as his tongue runs along my seam.

“I’m giving you your first orgasm. Based on your antics today, I think you’re acting out because you’re not getting enough attention. If you want attention, you can have all of mine. Now, you’re going to come until I’m tired, wife. ”

He doesn’t waste another minute, bringing his mouth back to my pussy, licking me over and over again. His tongue swirls over my clit, and I melt into the bed, the feeling sending sparks of electricity through my whole body. I’m ashamed that while my new husband, this man I hate, is between my legs, I’m enjoying it more than I could have imagined. He continues at a quickened pace, building me up and up until I can’t take any more.

“Adrian-” His name is a plea on my lips, but I’m not sure if I’m begging him to stop or keep going.

Then, I feel his finger enter a place no one has been. Red heat blankets my body when I hear the wet sounds as his finger moves in and out. But the sensation immediately diminishes any shame. When he curls that single digit, hitting a spot I didn’t know existed, my world breaks apart.

“Adrian!” Involuntarily, his name escapes my lips as I come undone in waves of pleasure. I’ve never felt anything like that, and it leaves me panting on the bed as Adrian pulls his face away from my pussy with a smile.

“I love hearing my name on your lips, wife. Now, let’s do it again.”

“No, I can’t!” I try to pull my exhausted body away from him, but Adrian’s hands hold me down.

“I said, I was going to make you come until I was tired. I don’t care if you can’t, wife. Lay down and take what I’m giving you.”

Adrian’s mouth moves back to my pussy, finding my clit and sucking on it harshly. Another finger enters me, the two digits working in and out languidly. He builds me up again, this time with less effort, and when I fall over the edge, I’m screaming for him.

“I love the sound of your moans, princess. How about another time?”

“Please no,” I beg, squirming to get away, but Adrian doesn’t let me go. He restarts his performance, working my body like a finely tuned instrument. My resistance is a distant memory as my body completely gives in to the waves of ecstasy. He does it over and over again, until I’ve come at least five times.

Suddenly, his quip about punishments not hurting makes sense. I’m oversensitive, taking only minutes for him to bring me back to that heightened state. My body is exhausted, and I feel like he can’t possibly make me come one more time. And yet he does. He wrings another orgasm from me as tears leak from my eyes. Finally, he looks up from my spent pussy, a grin etched across his lips, coated in my arousal.

“Good job, princess. I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

There’s not a thought that comes to my brain to respond to him. I’m too exhausted, my pussy satisfied and worn out.

Adrian goes to the bathroom and comes back with a warm washcloth that he cleans me up with. I don’t even move as he works, and when he crawls into bed and curls my body against his, I let him.

“You did such a good job, princess. Rest now.”

When I close my eyes, I drift off to a peaceful sleep.