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Page 85 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“I thought you’d like to have those words with you,” Thalia beamed warmly.

And as the priest ran through the last few rites, as she managed to get the words, “I do” out from her lips, a burst of joyful applause filled the lawn.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest beamed.

And as Gabriel leaned in to kiss his wife for the first time, his lips brushed against her ear, whispering something incoherent over the cacophony of cheers.

“What?” Thalia asked, still smiling like mad.

“I said ‘run, little rabbit’.”

Immediately, Thalia’s eyes narrowed as a devilish smirk crossed her face. She took off down the aisle in a flash, folks standing from their chairs and cheering her on as she raced past. And then—only then—once she reached beneath the floral archway, did she dare a glance over her shoulder, and spotted Mister Wolf in hot pursuit.

EPILOGUE

Gabriel popped their bedroom door open with very little effort, immediately moving towards their bed before placing Thalia down, as if she were his most precious cargo. She couldn’t help but giggle, watching as the top half of her husband’s attire quickly dropped to the ground, and he joined her in bed, a familiar air of predatory aggression surrounding him.

“You know, I get the strange feeling that you allowed yourself to be ensnared,” he growled, nipping her ear as he worked his way down to the nape of her neck.

Her toes curled as a familiar tingle ran through her body, and Thalia couldn’t help but giggle. “Such a bold accusation! I would never ruin the sacred rules of the hunt.”

“Ooh, I think you would, little rabbit.” Gabriel continued his journey down the length of her body, kissing her chest before rising slightly, a playful frown across his face. “That display wasn’t befitting the prey who evaded me for so long…”

More giggling as Thalia allowed him to pull her up by the wrist, his hands working the strings of her bodice before her dress came off in one, fluid motion. It soon joined the pile of clothing, and a cold shiver ran across her skin, now protected only by the thinnest of undergarments.

“And what are you going to do about it, Mister Wolf?” she asked, hands pressing against her curves with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“I’m simply going to have to do it all again.” Gabriel’s belt slipped free from his trousers, removing both and adding to their growing pile. His defined form graced Thalia’s eyes at last, and she drank up the sight, committing every definite line of muscle to memory. Her eyes lingered around his shoulder, still scarred from that terrible night, and she pulled herself closer, lips gently brushing across the wound.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked gently.

Gabriel chuckled, glancing at the scar for himself. “Stiff, if anything.”

“Poor baby…” she gave the scar a few more kisses, hiding a grin at Gabriel’s growling displeasure for the use of childish monikers. “Oh—I’m awful sorry. I seemed to have upset you again. Let me make it up to you…?”

He allowed it, if only for a brief moment, her lips meeting his as she lulled him into a deep kiss. Then, in a twist, his teeth found her tongue and pressed down, drawing the slightest of blood that filled her senses entirely.

“You need new tricks,” he growled, hands already working to free her breasts from the corset. “Or learn how to play fair.”

“I’m fighting for my life,” Thalia replied breathlessly. “Playing fair is hardly on my mind.” Her corset joined the pile, and Gabriel pushed forcefully against her chest, Thalia collapsing against their bed in a peal of laughter. She did her best to remain still, a squirm of pleasure rolling up her legs as her husband’s teeth dragged her delicates slowly across her bare skin. “S-Slower…”

He obliged, eliciting another pleasurable shiver. But all things came to an end, and finally, their pile of clothing was complete. He shifted his weight on top of her, hands caressing her breasts and working up to the shape of her neck. “The hunt always starts slow, little rabbit. First, the scent is caught…”

Thalia inhaled deeply, taking in the earth, the smoke; everything that made Gabriel Harding the man he was.

“Then… he stalks her.”

His fingers brushed lightly across her throat, pressing occasionally as panicked squeals escaped Thalia’s lips. He massaged her throat, finding just the right spots to increase pressure, to fill her with that dizzying euphoria from before. Gabriel leaned closer, eyeing the elegant line of her neck, and she couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his lips press against it.

“Then…”

He caught her lips in a kiss as his hands began to squeeze around her neck once more.

“The jaws come down around her neck.”

His face obscured her vision as the world began to haze once more, and Thalia fought for her very right to breathe. Every swallow was earned, every inhale and exhale ragged and quick. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she felt his member stiffen, then enter her fully, hands loosening their hold around her neck before he began to rock. Slowly, finding a rhythm she could keep pace with.

“Our word,” he demanded between grunts.


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