Chapter 160

Kayla

Vanessa immediately pointed at Isabella. “It was her idea!” she practically shrieked.

Isabella leapt up from her chair. “You little bitch! How dare you say such a thing!”

“It was you, though! You told me that if I fucked up her wedding dress, I’d get to live here with you once you inherit this place!”

“Well, now you certainly won’t get anything, will you?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole, lady! I never liked you, you know!”

Liam jumped up then, intervening. “Hey, don’t talk to my mother like that!”

The voices rose into an incoherent din after that, leaving Nicholas and I sitting on either end of the table in stunned—and satisfied—silence. At some point, someone shoved the dishes off of the table, sending food and porcelain shattering across the floor—all except for Nicholas’s mousse, which he grabbed before the catastrophe happened, spooning the chocolate into his mouth.

“Excellent work tonight, Stephan. The mousse is delectable,” Nicholas said, waving his spoon at the head chef as he rose and circled the table toward me. He spooned some more and held it out to me. “Say ‘ahh’.”

Grinning, I opened my mouth, letting him pop the dessert onto my tongue. It melted in my mouth right away, a chocolate explosion of flavor. Then, Nicholas took my hand and helped me to my feet—all the while, the others continued to shout at each other. Vanessa even picked up a handful of cake mixed with wedding dress scraps and hurled it at Isabella, hitting her square in the face.

I did nothing to suppress my laugh as frosting went sliding down Isabella’s stunned face. Shaking my head, I turned to the minibar at the side of the room and popped a fresh bottle of champagne, pouring two glasses. I handed one to Nicholas, and we clinked them together before taking a sip.

“This is quite the dinner party,” he said, leaning close as we watched the chaos ensue. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Luna.”

I threw him a smirk. “Not bad for a rookie who needs training, huh?”

He nodded. “The wedding gown bits on the smashed-up cake was really…” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, making a chef’s kiss gesture into the air. I couldn’t help but smile as I swirled my drink around in my glass, watching the three people who had made my life a living hell for so long fight like a bunch of toddlers who needed their naptime.

Finally, Nicholas held up his hand, stating firmly, “That’s enough.”

The cold authority in his voice caused them all to freeze, turning. Isabella still had icing stuck to the side of her face. Vanessa’s expensive dress was torn up one leg, and Liam was frantically removing his wine-stained suit jacket, trying to cover her up.

Nicholas nodded toward the door, where three Nightshade guards stepped in, blocking the exit.

“Now,” he said, polishing off the last of his champagne and setting his glass aside, “Isabella, I know how important it is to you to move back to the Alpha Manor. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I realized that, despite everything, you did take on the role of my mother for several years. So perhaps you deserve a place here.”

Isabella huffed, folding her arms. “Took you long enough.”

Nicholas’s smile widened, and he snapped his fingers. The three guards surged forward, grabbing Isabella, Liam, and Vanessa by the arms. They protested, but it was no use as the guards deftly cuffed their hands behind their backs.

“I’ve prepared a cottage for you at the very edge of the estate property,” Nicholas said as the three guests struggled against the guards. “It’s very quaint, and quite safe—nice, high fences with guards posted at all times to ensure your comfort, and special locks ensuring that no one can get in or out.”

Isabella’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?” she barked, hair falling into her face.

“I’m saying,” Nicholas went on, wrapping one arm around my waist and drawing me close, “that my Luna and I have decided to be gracious and let you live on estate grounds after all. With ankle monitors on, of course.”

“How dare you—” Liam growled, surging forward, only to be roughly yanked back by the guard holding him.

“Are we under arrest?” Vanessa croaked, glancing at me. “Kay, you can’t seriously—”

“Don’t call me that,” I hissed, holding up a hand to stop her.

Nicholas’s grip tightened on my waist. “You are under arrest for trespassing, breaking and entering, and destruction of property. Consider yourselves lucky that you aren’t also being charged with conspiring against the Alpha and Luna of Nightshade and Bluemoon.”

With that, Nicholas nodded to the guards, who began to move the three guests out of the room. They struggled, shouts of protest filling the air, but their attempts to escape were futile. And they knew it.

“Don’t worry,” I called as I watched them being taken away, “when I throw lots of dinner parties as Luna, I’ll always make sure to send the leftovers to your cottage.”

And just like that, they were gone. The door slammed shut behind them, drowning out the sound of their shouts.

In the wake of the chaos, Nicholas and I caught our breath, staring at the mess they’d made. One of the staff moved to start cleaning up, but I stopped them, telling them to take the rest of the night off—they deserved it—and sent them away.

“Well, that was something,” I said once Nicholas and I were alone. I bent to pick up a broken plate. “Shame it had to turn into such a mess.”

“To be expected,” Nicholas said, his voice rough.

I glanced up at him, and froze. His eyes were shimmering gold, like suns were burning in his irises. He’d only looked at me like that a few times before, and I knew what it meant. I straightened, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest, and swallowed.

“I should clean this up…” I muttered, but my voice was small and unconvincing.

Nicholas didn’t break my stare. The gold in his eyes flickered. “It can wait,” he said, taking a step closer to me.

All at once, it felt as if all the tension, all the pent-up frustration and yearning coalesced into a single, molten ball of fire between us. I could practically feel the heat radiating off of Nicholas’s body as he stood there, his chest heaving slightly.

“Nicholas…” I murmured. I wasn’t even sure why I said his name; I just knew that I wanted to, no, needed to.

He moved like a flash of lightning. Without a word, Nicholas surged forward, his lips crashing against mine. We tumbled back against the table, my legs wrapping around his torso, hands tangling in hair.

“But the mess—”

“Don’t bother,” he huffed against my throat, already pushing my dress up around my hips. “We’ll just make more of a mess first.”

Before I could answer, his mouth was on mine. Our lips parted, tongues sweeping into one another’s mouths. The table shook beneath us as Nicholas moved on top of me, rattling the remaining dinnerware.

His hands deftly pushed my dress up further, tugging aside my panties so quickly and ravenously I thought he might tear the lace. I heard the click of a belt buckle and the hiss of a zipper, and then the warm, tender head of his cock slipping into me.

I was already soaking wet—wet enough for him to slip right inside, both of us erupting at the familiar sensation. I rolled my hips against his, causing the table to groan beneath us with the movement.

“I hope the house is empty,” I breathed as Nicholas began to move in me, slow, long strokes at first. “Otherwise they’ll all hear.”

Nicholas’s eyes flashed as if in challenge. “If they were smart, they left already,” he grunted into my ear, his spine arched over me, dark hair hanging in his eyes. “If not, then let them hear.”

I tilted my chin back in question, my own eyes flickering with mischief. “Hear what, exactly?”

“Me, making my wife come over and over again on our dining room table.”

“Wife,” I said softly, reaching up to rake my nails across the back of his neck. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“Good,” he replied, moving faster now, sending my back arching away from the table, my head thrown back in ecstasy. “Get used to it, because I’m going to say it a lot from now on.”

My throat bobbed as I looked up at him. I held his gaze, digging my fingers deeper into the flesh of the nape of his neck, and murmured, “Say it, then.”

He thrust deeper, faster, shaking the table against the floorboards. “Wife,” he huffed, gathering me into his arms and pulling me up against his warm body—possessively. “You’re my wife, and you’d better start acting like it.”

I smirked and hooked one leg around him, tugging him closer still.

“I will,” I retorted, twisting my hips. “But you’d better start acting like my husband, Nicholas Reynolds. Promise me.”

“I promise,” he replied, and I grinned and tugged him closer, our lips meeting once more.

We reached our climax at the same time, an eruption so great I thought the table might crack beneath us just from the force of it. My legs trembled and chest heaved as if I might split in two, and yet somehow, I felt more whole than I had in a very long time.

Perhaps, I realized as my husband held me there, his lips pressed to the side of my neck, I felt more whole now than I ever had.