“I do,” I say and pull her small body tightly to mine. Looking at those lips again, I add, “But you’re not skipping out on this kiss.”
Leaning down, I watch as her eyes go wide with shock before I press my lips tightly against hers and keep her there.
She’s going to break before I do, I swear.
Closing my eyes, I slant my mouth slowly over hers. Each time I push deeper for the kiss, she resists, but I can feel her resolve breaking. Before long, she’s got her fingers clutching at my t-shirt as a tiny groan comes from her mouth.
Pulling away from her, I watch as she slowly comes back to herself, her beautiful face flushed with excitement. Those wondrous breasts pushed up so high, heave up and down as she looks at me with lust and rage.
Damn, that’s a sexy fucking look.
Her hand lashes out as fast as lighting across my cheek before she yells, “Asshole!”
Fuck, that turned me on almost as much as the kiss.
Nodding my head, I can’t help but agree. “Yeah, but you married me, so you can’t say much.”
With my lips still tingling from that kiss, Gabriel tugs me out of the church and leads me up to a black Tahoe parked in the parking lot. Without a word, he pulls open the passenger door, expecting me to get in. When I hesitate, he gives me a little nudge like he expects me to obey him without protest.
Sirens blare in the distance, and I know there’s only a few minutes before the authorities show up.
Feet firmly on the ground, I square my shoulders, deciding this is the hill I’ll die on.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel frowns at me and gives me another nudge.
Unfortunately, despite my unwillingness to move, I end up taking a stumbling step back before I catch myself.
The fucker is strong. Strong and big. I thought the height difference between Alexei and me was enormous. With Gabriel it’s downright ridiculous.
“I’m not getting in the car,” I say, squaring my shoulders again to stand my ground.
I have to tip my head back to glare up at him.
“The fuck you’re not,” he growls and reaches down, grabbing me around the waist.
Hefting me up as if I weight nothing, he begins to stuff me and my enormous fluffy skirt in the car.
“Stop. Put me down! I’m not going with you!” I screech, fighting his hold and pounding my fists against his chest. “Just leave me. I won’t tell them anything, I swear on my mother’s grave. Just let me go!”
Gabriel exhales loudly through his nose as he struggles to get both me and my skirt inside the car while ignoring my fists.
“Gabriel, please!” I plead, my aching fists slowing.
Pounding on him is like pounding on concrete.
“We’re married,” he practically snarls before shoving me into the seat.
I manage to get out, “But not legally!” before he slams the door in my face.
Through the glass I watch him smirk and shake his head at me. Immediately I try the door handle, but no matter how hard I pull and yank on the thing the door won’t open.
Dammit, he must have some kind of child safety lock enabled.
As he begins to walk around the front of the car, I get the bright idea to find the lock and disable it. Launching myself toward the driver’s side of the car, I reach for all the buttons on the armrest only to abruptly come up short.
It takes me a precious second to figure out something is holding me back. Looking over my shoulder, I see that a big chunk of my skirt is stuck in the door.
I’m trapped inside this damn car until he helps me out.
The driver’s side door opens and Gabriel slides his gigantic body into the seat.
I recoil immediately, scooting as far away from him as possible.
Without looking over at me, Gabriel starts the car up and says, “Put your seatbelt on.”
I refuse to at first in stubborn defiance.
Gabriel shrugs his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
Putting the car into the gear, he hits the gas and we squeal out of the parking spot. Then he takes a very sharp, very unnecessary turn to the left that pushes me into the door.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
When the car finally straightens, I hastily do up my seatbelt.
Eyes sliding toward me, he grins and says, “Good girl.”
“Fuck you,” I sputter back, caught off guard.
Seriously, who does this guy think he is?
His lips twitch and his eyes gleam with amusement at the windshield. “Maybe later… If you promise not to cut my dick off…”
He hits the gas harder.
I could sputter some more, blush, or even wilt into my seat, but I’m starting to get my bearings back. I know I should be afraid of him. I mean, he did burst into my wedding and shoot the place up.