Playing with Fire (Burn for Me #1)

by Ria Wilde

Did I manipulate, scheme and plot to force her hand into agreeing to this marriage? Of course I did, and it was fucking easy too. All I had to use was the family she cared so deeply for. In her defense, I would have killed them all if she hadn’t agreed, and she knew it too. And I’d do it again to make her mine.

My hand itches with the urge to wrap those thick strands around it, to tug her head back, stretch out her neck for my teeth to sink into while my hands and cock punish her.

she can go take a walk off a high cliff if she thinks she can control a man like me.

“I vow to you, Malakai,” Never has my name sounded so good coming from a woman’s lips. “I am going to make your life hell. Miserable. You’re going to regret ever thinking you’re going to get a quiet, obedient little wife with me.”

“Next time kitten,” Malakai rasps in my ear, “When you turn down my sheets, make sure to strip off and climb beneath them. It was disappointing to find you not in my bed.”

“Kitten, I’ve no problem throwing you over my shoulder to get you to the altar. You’re mine, no matter which way I have to make it happen.”

She tastes like devastation, like the sweetest ruin, and I’m starving for her. She makes it damn hard to breathe.

“But you’re now mine. My wife. Make sure you remember that when you look into the mirror and reminisce what it felt like to kiss me.”

“When you give yourself up to me, when I have you spread beneath me, naked, wet, and panting, I’ll remember every moment you defied me. Every challenge you threw at my feet, and I’ll deliver it back.” She stiffens under me, “Your ass will be sore, your cunt throbbing but I won’t stop, even when you beg me to.”

“She went after my wife.” My voice drops to a low timbre, a deadly kind of calm settling over me, “At her wedding. Embarrassed her in front of everyone. And don’t you dare for one minute tell me it was an accident. You forget I have security tape.”

It’s a heady mix and a somewhat primal feeling blooms in my chest. My woman. My wife. Smelling like me.

“Let me know when you do it again,” I push, “I’ll pull up a chair to get a better view. See how pink and wet you are.”

“You’re a damn pig,” She growls, teeth grinding together. “Oink,” I grin at her.

The moment I saw her I’d had an image flash in my mind of her spread out on that kitchen island, naked and sweaty and writhing while I got myself another taste of her. I can only imagine how divine it would be directly from the source.

“One fucking day, kitten,” He rasps, his lips a mere inch from mine, blue eyes burning, breath whispering against my skin, “One fucking day, I’m going to punish you for pushing me. Have you spread across my lap as I tan your ass red.”

“You’d like it wouldn’t you?” He purrs, “Having my handprint on your pretty ass. Would you be dripping, Olivia? Like you’re soaking your panties right now?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind you crawling.”

But then his chuckle is to die for, this deep, warming sound and he smells like sex and sin, an intoxicating aroma that has made me brainless a couple of times. And the way he talks, the deep baritone of his voice strips you bare, and those neon blue eyes that feel as if they’re looking right through you, seeing all of you. And his hands, his skilled hands, long fingers and – What the fuck am I doing?

“I know, Mrs. Farrow,” Dennis sighs. “Olivia,” I correct, “Say it with me, Olivia.” A smirk tugs on his mouth, “Would you like music, Mrs. Farrow?”

Unknown: Malakai. Where are you? Unknown: Answer me, kitten. Unknown: Olivia. “Jesus Christ,” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I quickly save the number, and reply. Me: Go away. Future ex-husband: I can find you, kitten. I would just prefer you to let me know where you are. Me: So, you can come fuck up my night? Future ex-husband: No, so I know you’re safe.

“Good girl,”

“I don’t want your money.” And that just makes me want to give it to her more. Keeping my eyes on the road, I reach into my pocket and tug out my wallet, handing it over. “Well, it’s yours anyway.”

“Look at you being such a good girl,”

“You’re so fucking wet for me, kitten,”

“Did you really cut holes in the toes of all of my socks?” He says in way of a greeting. Oh shit. I forgot I did that. I hide my smile behind the rim of my mug, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes narrow, “You’re a terrible liar, kitten.”

“I fucking hate you.” “No, you don’t,” I rasp. Brown eyes drop to my lips and then her mouth crashes against mine violently. My fingers slide into her thick hair, gripping it as I tug, stretching out her neck as I plunge my tongue into her mouth. Her fingers curl into my shirt, tugging me closer but this damn fucking desk!

“Look at you being a good girl right now,” I praise her, “Such a shame you couldn’t be a good girl for me before. Good girls get rewards, bad girls choke on my cock.”

“You’ll never fucking escape me,” I grasp her thighs and yank her toward me, slamming forward at the same time, “You’re fucking mine, Olivia.”

“I hate you!” She hisses but then moans, so damn prettily. “Yeah?” Thrust, “You hate it when I’m fucking you like this?” Thrust. “You hate it when I fill you up and stretch this tight fucking cunt full of my cock?”

“You’re a brat, Olivia,” Sweat coats my skin, “I’m going to fuck this atti...

“You’re fucking mine now, Olivia. Mine.”

“No fucking man matters now, Olivia. It does not matter who has been between these legs anymore, it’s just fucking me. I own this cunt, this body. I own your fucking soul, Olivia.”

“I always knew this pretty ass would look good with my handprint,”

My wife.

“Are you tired too?” I ask, downing half the bottle before I put it on the bedside table. “No.” He pulls the sheets over us. “Why are you in bed then?” “Because I want to hold you,”

“You may not care about me, kitten,” His chest rumbles, “But I’m certainly finding I care an awful lot about you, certainly more than I ever expected I would.”

“I don’t want every man looking at you, Olivia.” She scoffs, “So what if they look?” She quirks a brow, “What does it matter?” “You’re mine.”

“Be a good boy,” She pats my hand, “And try not to think about all the men getting an eyeful of my tits, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me again.”

“Yes, I’ve thought about fucking you.” He admits. “And if you’ve eaten. Or had water. I’ve nearly fucking lost my mind thinking about another man being near you when you’re wearing this fucking outfit. And I was watching the damn clock, waiting for you to get home just so I could fucking see you.”

“Let you go or let me fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Run.” I growl out. The humor fades, “What?” “Run, Olivia.” I switch the car off. “If I catch you, I’ll tan your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

“I want to mark you, Olivia,” He rasps, “Paint you mine so the whole fucking world knows that I am yours.”

I roll my eyes at how ridiculous that sounds. “That’s one red handprint on your ass.” “Sorry?” “Roll your eyes at me again, you’ll get two.”

She’s a queen. A goddess. And I’m ready to get on my knees to worship at her altar.

“I wanted to show off my wife, Willow. Tell the world she is mine.”

“Because there is nothing I won’t do to make sure you’re protected. I will burn every city to the ground to eliminate any threat to you. I am your shield, Olivia. Your bullet. I am your husband.”

“You do not understand, Olivia. There are no lengths I will not go to.” “You’re crazy,” I breathe. “No, you’re just mine.”

job I don’t care if you think you’re not good enough or if I’m too good. I want you regardless.”

“I’ll give you the world, Olivia, you just need to ask.” But I don’t want the world. Just this with him.

You want to tame me, Olivia, consider me tamed. I’m yours.” “No one can tame you,” She breathes. “You can.” I admit. “I don’t want to,” she shakes her head, running her hands over me, the sopping clothes clinging to my skin, “I want you how you are.”