23. Emmett
Emmett
Heart attack!
System shut down.
I don’t know what to call this sudden ambush that weakens my knees to the point where I almost have to slide down the wall with my fiery bride in my arms.
Now, I might be a lot of things, but a saint isn’t one.
When it comes to my wife, I’ve done everything I can to keep my filthy thoughts and intents hidden to the point of nonexistent.
But… they do exist.
The blood in my veins that had simmered down suddenly flares back up, igniting into an inferno as her tongue darts out seductively against the seam of my lips, demanding entrance.
My mind is blown!
She completely takes over my soul with this kiss, our first real kiss if we’re being clear, and it awakens my weary soul, making it sing to Heaven.
Feeling utterly helpless to deny myself any longer, I cup her beautiful face and kiss her back harder, taking full control.
This right here, my wife in my arms, kissing me like this, her body seductively pressed against mine while she wears the wedding dress she married me in, my ring that I put on her finger, and now she has my last name…. this is everything.
Never in a million years did I think this would be possible, let alone happen.
So, carried away by the insanity of this dream, I kiss her back, then bite her bottom lip, which makes her moan loudly. I smirk against her lips.
I kiss her some more, loving the way she’s responding to me, tasting her, savoring her, my every atom being hijacked by my wife.
Angel is a type of poison I don’t have the power or ability to fight off anymore.
In meeting her, I was curious and resentful.
Then protective with an agenda.
By the time I realized I was too indulgent of her and needed to let go, she had already sunk into my bone marrow, my soul, and my fucked-up heart, fusing me into her very being like a moth to a flame.
So now, kissing her like this… I can’t help but feel everything. The heady, breathless, deep, carnal concoction of her.
Until a throat clears.
Angel suddenly pulls back, jumping in fright, but I quickly pull her back flush against me.
Now that she’s mine, I’m never letting her go.
Before Angel can turn to look at the imposter, I restrict her movement by placing my hand at the back of her neck, keeping her facing me. Just me.
From now on, this is how it’s going to be… as it always was.
“What?” I mutter, not bothering to look to where he stands. I just hold Angel’s stunned gaze.
“Grandfather wants to talk to you,” Vaughn says in a flat tone, but it can’t completely mask his displeasure.
Angel freezes when she recognizes his voice, which bothers me all over again.
The fuck?
Someone needs a final warning.
“What did you think of my wife’s moans just now, cousin?”
Angel’s eyes flash to me with panic as soon as I drop that question.
From the corner of my eye, I see Vaughn stiffen, his attitude turning even colder with a murderous aura that I don’t even care about.
If the jerk can do something, I’d like to witness it.
“Emmett—” Angel starts, but I quickly press a kiss against her lips to silence her—and to enjoy her gasp.
“My dearest cousin wanted you, baby,” I say calmly, but I’m anything but.
“Actually, he has always lusted after what’s mine all his pathetic life, so it stands to reason he had plans for you, but unfortunately, that was never going to happen.
No one can have you but me. He will never have anything that’s mine. ”
She gasps, a tremble going through her body and into mine.
I lean in closer to her, until my lips are against hers. “You know you’ve always been mine.”
Angel once again grows still, looking at me with shock. I kiss her again. After I’m satisfied, I finally turn to look at Vaughn.
“Are you here for a show, little Vaughn?” I taunt, but he knows as well as I do that this is no longer a mocking, back-and-forth kind of banter.
This is the climax of the end.
“He’s waiting for you,” Vaughn repeats, his words strained.
“I’m with my wife right now. He can wait.” I look at Angel, stroking her ass with my hand slowly, loving the way she shivers while I continue talking to this jerk. “Now, be a good little boy and run along.”
“What?” he grits out.
“Being an avid voyeur of my successes and triumphs your entire pathetic existence has made you more than a fan, so how did you like this latest show, cousin?” I mock, stroking Angel’s jaw slowly, then her bottom lip that’s begging to be bit and kissed again.
“Because I have to tell you, cousin, I enjoyed the hell out of the show you prepared for me.”
The atmosphere has completely shifted.
Vaughn knows that I know the part he played in what happened to me.
He’s aware there’s no going back now.
While he has always taken the so-called rivalry between us seriously, I never cared.
But now, things are completely different, as evidenced by his now battered face, not forgetting of course the fractured ribs I gifted him before I married this beautiful girl.
“You planned very extensively tonight,” Vaughn says angrily.
“Not really. You’ve just always been a shitty, shortsighted schemer, is all,” I say softly. “Now, if you don’t mind… fuck off. I’ll deal with you later.”
My wife’s brown eyes are full of questions.
I saw Vaughn enter when Angel made her demand, but I know Vaughn was listening to our little reality and emotional adjustment from earlier.
I wanted him to.
“Oh, and tell your father, or whoever that man is to you, to wait for me,” I tell him. “I don’t want to miss your father-son bonding.”
I hold his gaze, silently hoping he acts.
As if aware of the danger awaiting him, he forcefully looks away from me and speaks directly to Angel. “Ivy? Are you okay?”
Again, I stop Angel from looking at him, which annoys her.
When she looks straight at me, her gaze mellows, and she suddenly looks cautious.
“Ivy?” Vaughn calls.
“I’m okay,” she says in a sexy hoarse voice.
“But—" Vaughn starts, but I’m now fresh out of patience and polite cordiality.
“Fuck off now. My wife and I are busy.”
Vaughn turns around and walks away, but I don’t miss the rage in his eyes. Good. This will be an enjoyable end.
“You let me kiss you because you saw him coming, didn’t you?” Angel suddenly questions in a low voice.
I look into her soul-stealing eyes and decide not to bother refuting it. “I’ll always accommodate your every want and need, Angel, no matter the cost to me,” I say and scoop her into my arms bridal style.
Her eyes narrow on me.
“You don’t strike me as a traditional person,” she says softly.
“It’s our fucking wedding night. We’ll be as traditional as is required.” I tell her, holding her gaze. “Besides, we’re both old-fashioned souls.”
Angel eyes me seriously. “You expect me to be grateful?”
She’s getting testy again, likely due to that little exchange with Vaughn.
I shouldn’t have advertised her moans, but he heard them already.
I just needed him to never forget who brought that out of my wife.
“What I expect is your obedience, Mrs. Easton,” I warn her seriously.
One thing I’ve never been able to handle is Angel’s pain.
I always do everything I can to get rid of immediate dangers to keep her safe, but there are other dangers that no matter how much I’ve tried, I’ve been unsuccessful in protecting her.
There are just some pains that can’t be avoided, I know that and I knew that one day, Angel was going to have to face the truth she was so adamant on finding.
This might’ve been smoother had my grandfather not intervened, but with the mess that has transpired these past few weeks since my wife came to New York, it only stands to reason that she’d crash out like this.
As we enter our master suite, she lies in my arms feeling too light for my liking. Ty gave me a detailed report on how she hasn’t been eating due to her migraines.
Worriedly, I place the back of my palm on her forehead. She’s still burning up.
There are still tear drops hanging at the corners of her eyelashes, making her eyes appear bigger.
When she looks at me like this, I can’t help but feel like I’m looking at ripples in dark, alluring waters.
This is the reason I fought against a well-planned assassination attempt where I should’ve died.
I didn’t even have the time to process it all because Ty sent an emergency distress signal that Grandfather had a priest and a judge at the house.
All bets were off from there.
What Angel said before was correct. If I wasn’t as twisted up over her, unable to bear, let alone accept, another man marrying her, I wouldn’t have forced her to marry me.
But that’s just not true.
I am jealous.
I am possessive of her.
I’ve always been a goner for her… it’s been this way for longer than she’ll ever know.
Just the mere thought of fucking Vaughn holding her hand, touching her in any way, or even breathing close to her, is enough to send me into a murderous rage. What more if he had actually married her tonight?
When it comes to Angel, I’m beyond limits and edge entities.
To keep her, anything is possible, but I can’t dwell on that feeling. I’ll only get clinically obsessed to the point where it will kill us both.
Placing her on the bed, I notice she’s still breathing a bit weirdly, so I go grab her medicine and something else.
I come back and press the inhaler against the seam of her lips, to which she greedily opens and sucks the mouth in while I rub her back.
Patiently, I pump twice and let her inhale and exhale, before pumping a third time.
“How do you know how to use one of these?” she asks quietly after a while of tense silence.
I can’t tell her that I practiced using inhalers in the event she had an emergency.
I can’t be found lacking when it comes to the needs of my wife, but I can’t tell her everything I’ve done for her. It’s not necessary.
So for a few minutes we’re silent.
I’m sure she has a lot of questions, but she chose this one. Likely because her mind, like mine, is frazzled and exhausted.