11. Chapter 11
REESE: One week later
Tate and I speak our vows, and I’m officially Mrs. Reese Sinclair.
His hand is tight around mine as the officiant closes his book and steps away from us.
The collection of Ravens in attendance applaud politely, the sound echoing through the ceremonial hall.
These couple hundred people just watched me walk down that aisle and pledge myself to a man who has killed for me and will kill again.
I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back.
Dane and Whitney rise from the front row. Whitney’s smile is genuine as she crosses to pull me into a hug. She smells like expensive perfume, and I sink into her embrace for just a moment before she releases me.
“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.” She cups my face in her hands. “We’re so lucky to have you.”
Dane claps Tate on the shoulder. His expression is stern, but I catch the pride underneath. “I’m proud of you, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Tate grins at his dad’s words, but his eyes stay on me.
Whitney threads her arm through Dane’s. “We’ll see you both at the reception.”
They’re leaving because they know what comes next, and Dane Sinclair isn’t about to watch his son claim his wife. I’m grateful for that, at least. Whitney also drags her daughter, Sloane out with her.
Ivy appears at my side, Fox’s arm wrapped around her waist. She’s wearing a deep green dress that matches the Sinclair eyes, and she’s grinning at me.
“We can go if you want.” She keeps her voice low. “I know these brothers want to see what Tate has planned, but I can make them leave.”
I look at Fox. His expression is unreadable, but there’s no judgment there.
“You can stay.” The words comes out before I can second-guess them. “I want you to stay.”
Fox flashes me a mischievous grin. “Then I’m fucking staying.”
Thorne is teasing Tate about something, and Tate shoves his shoulder. Thorne agrees with Fox that he’s also going to stay.
The crowd shifts as those who don’t want to watch the claiming ceremony filter toward the exits. Most of the men stay, as they always do. The Ravens live for this shit. The men who founded the Ravens were fucked up, and that shit rings true today.
Tate turns to face me, and his green eyes are burning. “You ready, baby girl?”
My pulse races. “I thought you were going to tell me what to expect. You haven’t told me what you have planned.”
“I did.” His mouth curves into a sly grin. “I told you that you’re going to be the one doing the claiming tonight.”
I blink. “What? I don’t understand.”
“You heard me.” He steps closer, his hand coming up to grip my jaw. His thumb traces along my lower lip. “Every Raven ceremony in history has been about the husband claiming his wife. They make her prove that she belongs to him by spreading her open for everyone to see.”
I stop breathing for a second, and he notices. His grip tightens on my jaw.
“But you’ve spent your whole life being used by men who thought they owned you.
” His voice drops low, meant only for me.
“And believe me, baby girl, I do own you. But tonight, you are going to show them that you own me. I’m going to lie down, and you’re going to sit on my face, and everyone in this room is going to watch me fuck you with my tongue until you come. ”
I stare at him. The words don’t compute, but they make my pussy wet.
“Tate, you can’t. They are expecting—”
“I don’t give a fuck what they expect.” He lowers his lips to my ear. “They want a claiming ceremony and we’re going to give them one. And I want every single person in this room to see that I’m completely claimed by my beautiful wife.”
Tears prick at my eyes. I blink them back.
“Someone’s going to say something.”
“I fucking dare them.” His smile turns sharp. “Come on, baby girl. Claim me.”
He releases my jaw and steps back. Then, while I watch in disbelief, Tate Sinclair lowers himself to the floor in front of every Raven in attendance. He lies flat on his back, hands folded behind his head, and looks up at me with those gorgeous green eyes that I fell completely in love with.
The crowd gasps as they watch what he’s doing.
“Well?” Tate’s voice carries through the hall. “What are you waiting for, Mrs. Sinclair? Come sit on your husband’s face.”
Fox makes a sound that might be a laugh. Thorne is staring with his mouth hanging open.
I look down at my husband, sprawled on the floor in his perfectly tailored suit, offering himself to me in front of everyone. He is the most fucked up, dangerous, sexy man I’ve ever met. And he’s mine.
I gather my dress and move to stand over him, one foot on either side of his head. I’m not wearing panties. He told me not to bother since we’d have the ceremony.
“That’s my girl.” His voice is rough as he stares up at me. “Now sit.”
I lower myself onto his face, shifting so my knees are now supporting me.
His mouth finds my pussy immediately, and I gasp at the first stroke of his tongue. His hands stay behind his head, not touching me or guiding me. Just using his mouth to work me open while I grip the fabric of my dress to keep from falling.
“Oh fuck.” The words escape before I can stop them.
A murmur runs through the crowd. I don’t look at them.
Tate’s tongue drags through my slit, circling my clit before dipping inside me. He eats my pussy with the same intensity he brings to everything else, thorough and relentless. My thighs are already shaking.
“Grind on me.” His voice is muffled against my pussy. “Use my face, baby girl. Take what you need.”
I start to move my hips. Rolling against his mouth, chasing the pressure of his tongue. He groans beneath me, and the vibration makes me cry out.
“That’s it.” He sucks my clit into his mouth and releases it. “Fuck my face harder. Let them see how good your husband eats this pussy.”
I’m past caring about the crowd. I’m past caring about tradition or any of the bullshit rules these people live by. All I can feel is Tate’s mouth on me, his tongue inside me, his stubble scraping my thighs as I ride his face.
“You taste so fucking good, baby girl.” He growls the words against my pussy. “I could eat this cunt for hours. Every morning. Every night. This is mine.”
I’m close. The pressure builds and brings me closer to the edge with every stroke of his tongue. My hands find his hair, gripping hard, holding him exactly where I need him.
“Come on my face.” His voice is a command. “Come for me, Reese. Let everyone in this room fucking see how much you love this.”
His tongue works my pussy again, and the orgasm hits me so hard I toss my head back.
I cry out his name, grinding down on his mouth, my whole body convulsing as the pleasure tears through me.
He doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out every last tremor until I’m sobbing and shaking above him.
When I finally lift myself off his face, his mouth and chin are soaked. He’s grinning up at me, looking like the most satisfied man in the world, even though his dick didn’t get any attention.
He gets up slowly, in no rush whatsoever. The room is dead silent. No one knows what to say. No one knows what he’s going to do next.
Tate drags his fingers across his chin, collecting the wetness there. Then he slides them into his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes scanning the crowd as he does it. He takes his time, making sure every single person watches him savor the taste of his wife on his tongue.
He pulls me against his side, his arm tight around my waist.
“Does anyone have a problem with my wife claiming me or how much I love the taste of her pussy?” His voice carries through the hall. “Speak the fuck up. I’ll wait.”
No one says a word, and I watch Tate’s mouth curve into a dangerous smile.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” He presses a kiss to my temple, then drops his mouth to my ear.
“When we get home, I’m going to bend you over and fuck you until you can’t walk.
Then I’m going to eat your pussy again and make you come on my tongue three more times.
And then I’m going to fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you while you tell me who owns that pussy. ”
I shiver against him, already wet again from the promise in his voice.
He leads me toward the exit, past the stunned Ravens, past Fox’s slow clap and Ivy’s delighted grin, past Thorne shaking his head in laughter.
And I walk beside him, head high, the taste of victory sweeter than anything I’ve ever known. For the first time in my life, I belong to someone who belongs to me in return. Someone who will torture and kill for me, someone who will lay himself down in front of the whole fucking world.
Tate Sinclair isn’t like any man I’ve ever known. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life thankful that he took me and made me Mrs. Sinclair.