Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
Scarlet laughed softly. “Your family is a little nutty.”
“They’re your family now too.”
“I pronounce you man and wife, kiss your bride and hurry up before we get mobbed,” Preacher said, waving his hand at them.
Absinthe took his time, stepping close to Scarlet, cupping her face with gentle hands and turning it up toward him. His heart felt as if it stood still, or maybe it was time. Her bone structure was so perfect. Those high cheekbones. He turned her face slightly, so the curve of her cheek and the pout of her lower lip were spotlighted by the rays of the sun. Her hair blazed that brilliant red that made his heart flutter and his soul ache.
“I’m so in love with you.” He murmured the truth softly against her lips, that generous curve that took him to paradise every time he kissed her. It didn’t matter how gentle or rough he was, it was every time. This time was no different in spite of their audience.
He touched his lips to hers and, just like always, it was as if he’d touched a match to dynamite. To an explosive. Flames leapt between them. Fire roared in his belly. Licked at his skin. Rushed through his veins. She was raw fuel for survival when he thought there was nothing left for him.
Her arms slid around his neck. She kissed him back, adding to the thunder in his ears and the lightning whipping through him. Her body melted into his, pressing close. Emotion welled up to blend with the genuine physical reaction. She was a fucking miracle.
“May I present Mr. and Mrs. Solokov. That’s it,” Preacher declared, “we’re good. Time to party.”
Torpedo Ink let out a roar of congratulations and the party was on. The music started up and the barbecue was lit. For the next couple of hours, they danced together, Absinthe holding her as close to him as possible. The children danced around them, laughing and holding hands, happy for them, their faces beaming.
He tried to keep Scarlet on his lap while they ate, but she insisted on sitting beside him, paying attention to the introductions so she’d remember everyone’s names and put them together with how they looked. They cut the cake and fed each other a piece. He was much more erotic about it than she was, having her suck the frosting off his finger. She obligingly did it for him, making his cock as hard as a rock.
He was quite happy to abandon the party and take his bride home early, long before the setting sun. His family had given them gifts, laying them all out on their marriage bed at home. His brothers and sisters tended to be a little on the kinky side, so he was looking forward to seeing what they’d been gifted.
FOURTEEN
“Scarlet, it’s your wedding night, you tell me what you want to do. We can celebrate any way you’d like. I’m up for anything.” Absinthe was being truthful; she heard it in his voice.
She looked at the presents laid out over their bed. Each was so Torpedo Ink. She was beginning to understand Absinthe’s brothers and sisters. A large fiery-red pillow trimmed in white piping was made of crushed velvet and had been pressed down like crowns with covered buttons of darker red. It was gorgeous. On the front of the pillow was beautifully embroidered, Absinthe’s kiska.
“That’s for you to sit on when you’re not resting on the rug by the fire. You can sit on your pillow while I’m reading or when I have other things to do in the evening, but I want you waiting in here for me.”
Scarlet ran her hand over the pillow. “Who made this for me?”
“Lana did. She actually made your dress as well. Not the lace, but the sheath beneath it. She has this little thing with materials. She didn’t like the sheath and said it wouldn’t suit you, so she found material at one of the shops and put it together for you. She’s quite good, isn’t she?”
“Where did she learn?” She wasn’t certain whether to be embarrassed that all of Torpedo Ink seemed to know about the kitten play between them.
Absinthe shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”
She nodded and continued to look at the display of gifts strewn across their bed. “All of them know I’m your kitten in the bedroom, don’t they?”
“They know what I need. If you’re my woman, no doubt you give me what I need. Why? Does it bother you?”
She considered that. Did it? She supposed it should. She pranced around the bedroom on her hands and knees with a collar and a leash and a tail. For him. For Absinthe. Everyone in his family apparently knew. She sighed, looked at him and shook her head. “I must really be in love with you.”