The Marriage Dare

by Wylder, Penny

  He told me to wait here, and I have. There are two guards here with me, silently watching. One is the man who was guarding the poker room—I heard Daniel call him Devon. And I don’t know the other one. Both of them are easily twice my size, and I’d be stupid to try to get out of here with them in the way.

  Regardless, Daniel made a point of telling me that. “Stay here, and don’t leave,” he said. “If you don’t, there will be a scene, and I know how much you don’t like to make a scene.”

  The words slice through me, one more dig at our shared history and things that I can’t take back even though I wish that I could. But I’m not going to run. He knows it, and I know it. After all, I don’t have anywhere to go.

  But he has to be joking, right? An elaborate prank as part of his plan to take revenge. Because my mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that he would actually want to marry me. It just seems like too much, to tie yourself forever to someone you loathe.

  But it doesn’t have to be forever, my mind whispers. And I think that’s the part that scares me. I don’t know what his plans are, only that he has some. And he could take me, humiliate me, and divorce me, as with not much more than a thought. But if that happens, I’ll deal with it too.

  Marry Daniel Argent. I’m still tipsy from the drinks, and I let myself lean back on the couch and surrender to the images that my mind is creating. I see myself in a white dress, walking toward him down an aisle and my stomach fluttering with nerves. But then he’s kissing me, and God I want to kiss that mouth. I want to feel him kiss me.

  My mind spins it forward until we’re more than kissing. Until we’re tangled up in each other, breathless and panting and pleasured. Everything that I said I shouldn’t want during that poker game, just two strangers seeking an experience with the other. Everything that I still crave. Because the way that he looks at me makes me want him, even though I know he’s using it against me. I’m drunk enough and tired enough that I don’t care. Let him use me. Take me. Just make me feel something other than this.

  The door opens and Daniel strides in. I’m yanked out of my erotic fantasy about him, and faced with the reality. That he’s here and just as fucking hot as everything that I imagined. I feel the blush rise to my cheeks, and he notices. Apparently he notices everything.

  “You look flustered.”

  “I’m not,” I say quickly.

  He just chuckles and nods to his security. They leave silently, almost like they were never there at all. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “Why do you think I’m lying?”

  He smiles, slow and sexy. “Because your body is telling a different story. About being flustered.”

  “Fine,” I say. “I am. And it’s because of you. Why shouldn’t I be flustered in a situation where I’m going to marry a man who hates me.”

  “I never said I hated you.”

  Anger floods me. “You did.”

  “Past tense. I used to hate you.”

  Frustration and confusion are swirling in my brain, and I’m not quite sober enough for this. “But you said that you want to destroy me.”

  He smiles again, this time showing that dangerous, sharp side. “I want that too. I can want more than one thing at a time. And right now, I like being the one that makes you flustered, because you’re sexy when you blush.”

  Of course, that just makes me blush more. And then he shrugs off his suit jacket, which honestly doesn’t help matters. Daniel is built. The last time I saw him he was skinny, though old, bitchy me would have called him scrawny. The crisp white dress shirt he’s wearing has been tailored just for him. Not an inch of extra fabric anywhere, showing off a trim waist and a powerful chest. It makes me wonder what he looks like working out, and the thought of him doing shirtless chin-ups makes me feel faint.

  I follow the line of his arms down to his hands. Gorgeous, deft hands that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of during the game. God, what I imagine those hands could do to me. I’m aching just thinking about it, and he fucking knows it too.

  He crosses the distance between us, standing over me, and his eyes are burning with fire and lust. I’m not the only one imagining what it would be like for us to be together. There’s a saying about hate and passion being two sides of the same coin, and I definitely feel that right now. I hate this man. Hate what he’s doing to me. And I want to strip him naked and lick every inch of his body.

  I need to get a hold of myself.

  “Are you comfortable?”

  The question throws me off guard, because it’s soft. His tone seems…almost normal, and it doesn’t reflect the heat in his eyes that I can practically feel spilling over onto my skin. “What?”

  “Do you have everything you need? Do I need to send people to your room to get your things?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have a room here.”

  “Your car then?”

  Taking a deep breath, I swallow. “No car. I sold it.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows rise into his hairline. “What?”

  “You guessed I needed money, and you were right. But you didn’t know how much. I’m broke. That money that I lost on poker was my last, desperate attempt. I have nothing.” No sense in not being honest now. “I suppose I should thank you for wanting revenge on me. You may have saved my life. I lose my apartment at the end of the week. I would have been in a shelter.”

  “And I imagine you have debt racked up, credit cards that Daddy used to pay off?” The words are swift and decisive and take my breath away.

  I stand, nearly bumping against him. “You think you know so much, don’t you Daniel Argent. Fine, judge me all you like. You don’t know me. You never knew me, even though everyone knew you wanted to. Little poor boy who wanted to fuck the rich girl.” I want the words to sting. I want him to remember what it was like when I tore him down and pushed him to the ground. I want to see fire in his eyes.

  And I do see that fire. A flare of interest and pleasure that I’m fighting back.

  “You know,” he says, “when you used to talk to me that way, you were taller than me. Things have changed a bit.” He towers over me now. “You also used to be powerful. And conceited. Guess you haven’t gotten over the conceited thing yet, have you, if telling you the truth makes you that angry.”

  I lash out to strike him, to wipe that cruel grin off his face, and he catches my wrist before I can make contact, backs me against the nearby window. His body is pressed up against mine and oh my God he feels good. The strength in him holding my wrist shows me just how much he’s holding back. His entire body is potential power, nothing making it more obvious than how hard he is.

  I want him. I can’t deny that, and neither can my body, dampening beneath my dress and my nipples tightening against his chest. His knee slips between my legs, throwing me off balance, and he presses me harder against the glass. I can’t breathe, but I don’t need to as long as I can feel all of him like this.

  “You’re not behaving as a good wife should, Monica,” he whispers, lips brushing my cheek. Goosebumps run across my skin. God, I hate this man so much and I need him so much I can’t remember my own name.

  “That’s because I’m not your wife.” I say, voice raw.

  “That’s right. You’re not. We’ll get the paperwork tomorrow. And then you can decide what you want.”

  I shake my head again, because he’s smiling at me as if he hadn’t just trapped me in a corner. He still has my wrist caught in an almost bruising pressure. “What I want?”

  “For the wedding. You usually only get the one, so if you want the huge deal, Princess, we’ll do that. Whatever your dream wedding is, you’ll get to have that.”

  Confusion fizzles in my brain, added to by his closeness and the alcohol. “Why would you do that?”

  Daniel releases my wrist, drawing his fingers down my arm and down the side of my back where my skin is exposed, and I shudder. “Did you think I was going to marry you and keep you in a cage? Or make you eat bread and water?
No. I’m not that kind of monster. And right now, I like the idea of making you love me. So you can have whatever you want, Princess, if that’s the kind of life that you want to go back to.”

  There’s a catch. There’s always a catch. He’s not showing his hand, I know that, but the idea of slipping back into luxury is undeniably appealing. Even if there is an inevitable catch.

  “I want to kiss you,” Daniel says. The words are soft like velvet, and his fingers are still moving on my skin. Up and down, hypnotizing. So slowly, sending tingles up my spine. “And you haven’t pulled away yet.”

  “Well? What’s stopping you?” I ask him. I want him to kiss me. I like that he’s telling me what he wants. That it sets up the clear expectation, since our history is complicated and everything about it is vague.

  “I told you downstairs that you’re going to beg me. Not for money, not for the quality of life that I expect my wife to enjoy. But for my touch, my pleasure, and my love? You’ll beg. You need to earn that. I won’t kiss you unless you ask me to, Princess.”

  Anger and desire twist up in equal measure inside me. I hate that he wants me to do that, reducing me to someone who needs to beg. But God, it makes me want to. I imagine getting on my knees and begging for more. The thought is too much, I have to close my eyes. My face flushes again, and I know that he’ll notice. Know that I want him.

  But I’m not going to beg this man for anything. I’m already losing too much. Already at his mercy. He won’t see me do it.

  However, that doesn’t mean that I can’t get what I want. I say nothing, just arch myself into Daniel’s body and lift my lips to his. Our kiss explodes, like gunpowder and a match. His mouth consumes mine, heat and pleasure flowing through me. I groan into his mouth, and he teases my lips open with his tongue. Invading, battling, conquering mine with precision and ease.

  He presses me harder against the glass, the coolness of it on my back contrasting against his heat. He’s like a flame pressed against me and I want to burn. I ache everywhere for him, and his hands roam, leaving shivers in their wake. There’s no hesitation in his exploration, only confidence and assurance that he already owns me—because he does. I hate that that thought makes me wet.

  Daniel’s hands slide up my body until they reach my shoulders, and he grabs the sleeves of my dress where they curve over my shoulders and peels it down. I don’t even try to stop him. Don’t want him to stop. He lets it fall so it pools around my feet and I’m in nothing but my lingerie and my one pair of high heels.

  The way his eyes rove up and down my body makes me feel like his mouth is already on me, and I’m so wet that he might be able to see it. He pulls me hard against his body again, taking me with him as we sprawl down onto the couch. Instantly he’s over me, delicious weight pinning me to the cushions as he plunders my mouth again. Yes.

  This is what I wanted. Nothing but mindless pleasure and distraction. He feels so good, heat burning through the thin fabric of his shirt and hard cock pressing against me through his pants. His tongue strokes into my mouth, making me see stars behind my eyes. More is the only word that I can remember.

  Then his lips are gone and he’s breathing as hard as I am, kissing down the my chest and lower. Down across my stomach, where he hovers. He could go anywhere from here. “Don’t think that I didn’t notice your little loophole, Princess. Make no mistake, I will have you beg. But just this once, I’ll give you a pass. But only if you tell me what you want.”

  What do I want? I want everything. I want him to take control and take me and let us fall into a haze of pleasure together. I want to forget that he’s Daniel and that I’m Monica just for the night. I want him to use me the way he wants. But his lips curl up into a smile, and I know that I have to choose. At least for now. I have every confidence that I can get him to do more. It barely took a whisper of a kiss to land us here.

  “Your mouth,” I say, my own mouth dry. “I want your mouth on me.”

  He grins, and presses a slow kiss just below my belly button. “As you wish, Princess.” The words vibrate across my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  Daniel licks me, dragging his tongue downward to the edge of my panties and hovering, teasing me with mouth and fingers before pulling them down. I’m already soaking wet and the sudden rush of air is cold on my pussy. But before long, it’s replaced by the warmth of Daniel’s mouth.

  He presses a kiss to my clit, lips closed and utterly chaste, which makes me laugh. I don’t know if I can actually consider a kiss on my clit chaste. But he kisses it gently, slowly. It’s not what I want.

  I want him to devour me.

  Lifting my hips, I try to ask for more, but he pushes them down again, and I moan.

  “I said you could ask for what you wanted. I didn’t say you could tell me how to give it to you.” His voice isn’t angry, just firm. Utterly confident, and I grow even more wet. Of course he notices, and his chuckle makes me flush with embarrassment.

  A small lick across my slit, and he makes a sound of pleasure. “You taste good, Princess. I’ve always wondered what this pussy tasted like. When we were younger I thought it might taste like hope, dreams, and money.” Another lick, longer and slower. “But it tastes like candy to me now.”

  His slow exploration has me shaking. God, yes. He starts slow, light touches and flicks of his tongue. I never know where he’s going to land next. My clit, my entrance, the inside of my thigh. Not knowing where the next touch will be heightens all of my senses at once.

  Then the lightest of kisses on my skin, slowly pressing forward to full contact. And then a little more. Slow, solid strokes of his tongue around my clit, and I moan. It feels so good, pleasure pooling in my gut and fizzing in my veins. I relax into it, letting go of everything else. It’s been so long since I had anything else to do but wonder about survival. So long since I had anybody that wanted to touch me. Taste me.

  Daniel slides his hands under my ass, pulling me closer, and he doesn’t hold back now. He covers my pussy with his mouth and sucks deep, before plunging in with his tongue and I cry out. Desire and delicious pleasure flare up like a flash, and I want more of this. More of all of it. I’ve never had anyone do this to me—have me on the edge, so close without going over and so fast.

  He gives me what I want then, devouring me with lips and tongue and the occasional scrape of his teeth to make me shiver. Again and again, fucking me with his tongue until I’m moaning, unable to hold it back. I’m so close to bliss, I can almost taste it, and I’m writhing under his mouth even though his hands hold me in place.

  Daniel slides upwards, stroking under my clit in a rhythm too fast for my body not to react. It does, rushing toward my orgasm like a lit fuse, and he doesn’t stop. Over and over and over. And I explode like a nova. Light flashes behind my eyes as I come, pleasure lighting me up from the inside. I’m shaking, and Daniel seals his mouth over me, sucking, drinking me in. Making the pleasure last and more pleasure rise up on top of it.

  The orgasm soars up and out and pleasure is spinning in me so fast that for a moment I feel weightless before crashing back to earth. Breathless, panting, spent.

  Daniel’s tongue is still moving on me, sending little sparks of pleasure through me. When he releases me, he crawls back up my body, planting wet kisses on my skin until he reaches my mouth and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips.

  He kisses me deep. Possessive. And I want it all again. I thought that orgasm would satisfy me, but it didn’t. All it did was pour fuel on a flame. I want all of him. I want him inside me. “Fuck me,” I say against his lips.

  Daniel’s laugh is deep and dark. “I don’t think so.”

  “What?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not going to fuck you until you’re my wife.”

  My mind goes blank with shock, and I realize that I’ve walked into a trap. Because now I want that. I want to fuck him, and in order to do that I have to go through with marrying him. One more assurance by him that he has me right
where he wants me. It’s so well played that I’m almost impressed. But two can play. I press my breasts up into his chest, reach out and stroke my hands down his sides. “You don’t want to fuck me?”

  I watch as his eyes go dark with lust and something else darker. “It has nothing to do with what I want,” Daniel says.

  “I’ll beg you.” I make the offer because I’m desperate and I want to see him relent for the one thing he’s asked me to do. But all he does is smile slowly and shake his head. “No. I gave you a choice, and you made it. That’s the end of it.”

  My breath goes short. “So you would have fucked me if I had asked?”

  Lifting himself off me, he stands and sits in a chair across from me. “You’ll never know,” he says. “But if you’re really that horny, you can still make yourself useful.”

  He doesn’t make a move, but I know what he’s talking about. My eyes drop to where his cock is tenting his pants. I felt him against me just moments ago, hard and hot, and despite myself, my mouth starts to water. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of just doing what he wants without him asking. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

  He raises an eyebrow. We both know we’re playing a game. “Show me how much you want to be a good wife,” he says. “And do what any loving wife would do for her husband after a long day.”

  “I’ve never been married. I don’t know what a loving wife would do.”

  That feral smile appears again. “She would crawl to me and sit at my feet. Naked.”

  I find myself reaching to take off my bra—the only thing left on me—and sinking to my knees on the floor. I hate this. I hate every second and the flush on his face tells him that. But I have to do it. I have to and I want to more than anything. I can barely comprehend the two emotions that exist side by side.

  I crawl to him, watching his eyes light up watching me. He leans forward when I’m between his legs, taking my mouth in a kiss that blinds me with its passion. He’s making me want him, and I know that.