My legs quaked. “Jude.”
“Can I make my virgin bride come all over my cock?”
I couldn’t breathe. His mouth stole mine, and all I could do was lay there as his tongue and lips assaulted me. “I’ll bet I can,” he murmured, a wicked laugh spilling over my lips, “I’ll bet you come so fucking hard for me, you’ll forget what your name is, let alone the fact I destroyed your hymen…”
I exploded into fragments, carried among the stars.
Jude gripped the side of my face, our foreheads touching as his hips jerked with mine. “Now look what you’ve gone and done,” he rasped, kissing me long and hard, our eyes unable to detach as we shook and choked on each breath. “I think you’ve more than ruined my life, Wife.” His lashes fluttered as he drank in my face. “You’ve ruined me.”
I laughed, breathless, and forgot that I shouldn’t kiss him.
But I did, over and over again until we were nothing but flesh and bone, wasting away beneath the fading moon.
I stumbled into the spare room’s en suite bathroom, tempted to look back at the bed to see if what I knew happened had actually happened.
It sure happened, said the ache radiating from between my legs.
Gingerly, I cleaned up, knowing I’d need a shower. Not daring to look at the bed I’d slept in, at the enemy I’d slept with and all over like I was some type of blanket he had to keep pulling over his body, I raced naked out of the room to my own and grabbed my toothbrush.
It was after nine, and Silas was hopefully at school, where Jude and I should be, too.
I threw on my robe, toothbrush hanging from my mouth when I heard my name being called.
Walking back into the spare room, I continued to brush my teeth. I would remain cool, calm, and totally collected. So what if my husband who I hated with every bruised corner of my heart took my virginity and then kissed me until I passed out in his arms? Nothing else needed to happen, and nothing needed to change.
I would never dare allow myself to think it might.
I leaned into the door a little too hard as Jude gazed at me from the bed. His hair was a mess from my fingers, deliciously and adorably unkempt, and his eyes were hooded from sleep and… no. No, he was just tired. I wasn’t reading into this foolish situation.
“Come here,” he demanded, sleep coating the words.
My hand paused, the toothbrush still in my mouth. My feet started walking, and I scowled at myself before turning to the bathroom and spitting out foam. I washed it down the sink, then marched into the room to find Jude waiting.
“Red.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
As if his eyes were the bait, I swayed closer without realizing it. His arm shot out, and he nabbed the toothbrush from my hand.
Horrified, I watched him put it into his mouth. “Ew, gross.”
“I’ve swapped saliva and other bodily fluids with you all night, and you worry about sharing a toothbrush?” he mumbled around it. Brushing quickly, he tossed the toothbrush to the floor, and I gaped at the gray toothpaste-speckled rug. “If you don’t come here, I’m going to have to get up and bring you back to bed.”
“Why do you want me to?”
His brows gathered. “Because I want you. What’s the problem?”
What was the problem? I half laughed. “Uh, the problem is I already feel awful enough about what I gave you. I don’t want to regret anything else.”
“Awful?” he repeated, then his expression smoothed. “Right, you think I’m going to hurt you.”
“You have before. You put moths in my locker right after my first”—I scrunched my nose—“oral experience.”
“Oral experience,” he laughed out, then licked his lips. “Come on, Fern, lose the robe and get your ass over here. We’re not going to school today anyway.”
My hands fisted at my sides, but then I smiled and crossed my arms. “It must be hard, being that this time, you can’t make me do anything. Leave or stay.”
“If you’re referring to what I think you are”—he yawned, tucking his arms behind his head—“I kicked you out because watching you clam up over some fucked-up memory while muttering for your father made me feel something…” His eyes met mine, honest and wide open. “It made me want to hug you or some bullshit. I couldn’t do that, Red.”
“So you filled my locker with moths.”
“Yes,” he said simply. “I wanted you, but I also hated you. I hated how badly I wanted you. The way it felt when I was with you made it seem like I’d never truly known what it was to want something before.” Stunned, I let my arms fall. “That made you a threat. You felt like a threat.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, his own curving. “You tasted like one, too.”
I blinked. Unbelievable.
“Fuck you, Jude.” I stormed out of the room.
“Mhmm.” His voice chased me. “Oh, and Fern?” I paused in the hall where he couldn’t see me, but he continued as if knowing I was there. “You didn’t clam up and have some type of breakdown over dusty-ass moths. You just miss your dad.”
Withholding tears, I slammed the door to my room and locked it.
Jude
Fern didn’t leave her room for the rest of the day.
I’d listened to the shower running for half an hour, wondering how it felt between her legs after I’d marked her for life.
A virgin.
I’d grinned at the ceiling before taking a nap.
Fuck knows why, but I decided to make her dinner, knowing she had to be starving.
You could say she needed to refuel. I’d drained a lot of her energy, and if I had it my way, there was going to be a repeat looming once the sun set.
That was my excuse, and I was making one hell of a meal with it.
“What’s that?” she asked, rubbing her makeup-free eyes as if she’d just woken up.
She was wearing some flimsy, frilly looking pajama ensemble, and I drank in the way the shorts sat loose on her magical hips, the matching top’s straps falling down her satin shoulders. No bra, I noticed the lack of straps and the way her tits jumped when her arms dropped.
“Jude,” she said, clicking her fingers.
“Huh? Oh, food.” Already wearing the mitt because I’d been waiting for what felt like forever, I grabbed the dish from the oven and set it atop the stove.
“Food,” she said, laughter thickening her voice.
“Your tits are distracting.”
I heard her snort and the fridge open and close. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I don’t exactly love it, but I can.” I plucked up the spatula, sliding some lasagna onto the two awaiting plates. “My mom taught me.”
Fern, drinking from a water bottle, lowered the plastic to the counter and hopped onto a stool. “She must be amazing because this smells so good.”
“Did it entice you out of your cave?”
She leaned over the counter to open a drawer. I beat her to it, snatching a knife and fork and holding them before her as I stared at her tits.
“Jude,” she said, tugging them from my hand to no avail. “Yes, it smelled so good I had to come down here, happy? Give me the cutlery, you savage.”