Page 2 of Jetmir

His hand found my jaw with the slightest tremor in his fingers, tilting my face up to his, and then his mouth was on mine. It was soft at first, almost reverent. Then the kiss deepened, unhurried but certain. The warmth of his hand at my waist grounded me, as did the taste of relief on his lips and the way he smiled against my mouth.

When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “Hi, wife.”

I laughed, breathless, and pressed my palm to his chest where I could feel his heart racing as hard as mine. “Hi, husband.”

“This concludes the ceremony.” The civic official broke the moment, offering the final formality and bringing us back to the present.

The priests offered blessings in their respective traditions, voices overlapping softly, echoing one another rather than competing. When they finished, Thorne turned slightly toward them.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone carrying an unspoken dismissal.

One by one, the men stepped away. Their footsteps faded down the aisle until the church was still again.

And then it was only us.

“Does everyone always follow your orders?” I asked softly, half in disbelief.

A faint smile touched his mouth. “Everyone but you.”

He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb lightly along my cheek, gentle and unhurried, as if the world could wait as long as it needed to.

I looked up at him, suddenly hyperaware of what came next. I’d lie if I didn’t say I couldn’t wait to feel Thorne touch me and kiss me everywhere. Just the thought of it had my nipples tighten behind the soft material of my dress.

The echo of our vows still hung in the air and the feeling of irrevocability settled between us as he leaned in and brushed kisses along my nose, my eyes, my temple. I felt my entire being sing.

“We’re alone now,” I whispered.

His gaze softened.

“Let God bear witness how I set this world ablaze if anyone tries to take you away from me,” he rasped, his voice full of emotions that made my heart tremble. “From this day forward, you’re my prayer and I’m your sinner. I’ll deliver your heart’s desires, Anya.”

Jetmir

Her breath caught and I watched the blush creep up her neck and spill onto her pale cheeks. Fuck, how I loved seeing her blush.

“You’re the only thing I want,” she murmured, her lips still swollen from my kiss. If her family or mine knew about us, they’d put a stop to it. But I didn’t give a fuck about them, nor about any of the wrongs I had committed. All that mattered was that Anya was my wife. My forever. And I would revel in every minute of it.

“Just give yourself over to me, Thorne. Your body, soul, and your heart.”

“It’s already yours, angel.”

Heat simmered the air, and her heels clattered onto the marble floor as I picked her up. I kissed her as I walked us over to the altar. Her lips were mine to devour, and the way she yielded to me drove me mad with desire.

As I lowered her on the centuries-old stone altar, she exhaled a shaky breath but never pulled away. I moved my mouth harder against her soft lips, demanding everything. She licked me, tasted my tongue, and breathed me in like I was her damnation.

God, she was so beautiful. Her almost-white hair cascading all around her and giving her a halo that even angels would be jealous of.

She deserved a lot better than a devil like me, but I made a silent vow, in front of every statue and ghost of mankind that had walked this establishment, that I’d make her happy.

I pulled back and set my hands on a chartered path, stroking around her breasts and hips. It was impossible to stop touching her now that I finally had her as mine.

“Lie back,” I ordered, my hand already behind her head to help ease her onto the hard stone. She immediately obeyed, arranging her petite frame under the gaze of the carved roof angels, ready for my taking.

I trailed one hand along her body, then slowly started peeling off her dress. The delicate white material was discarded on the church floor, and soon her underwear joined the pile.

Anya lay spread before me like a willing virginal sacrifice.

I traced the tip of my nose along her jaw, moving excruciatingly slow down her body, savoring the way she arched into me and tilted herself greedily toward my touch. I could smell her arousal, and it was intoxicating. For the past few weeks, it had become almost unbearable to resist her undeniable hunger. I thought I might die if I didn’t get to taste her. Love her. Fuck her.