The ceremony is brief. No family gathered. No celebration. Just two reluctant participants and the men with guns standing in the corners.
When it's time for the vows, Holly's voice is flat. She speaks each word like it's being extracted from her with pliers. But I say mine with warmth and enjoy watching Holly squirm under my gaze as I say them.
Father Dominic produces the rings. Two simple bands I had Dmitri pick up earlier. Nothing that screams romance or commitment. Just cold metal that will mark her as mine.
I slide the ring onto her finger, and I can feel the tension thrumming through her.
When it's her turn to slide the ring on my finger, her eyes finally meet mine, and the hatred I see burning there is almost beautiful in its intensity.
She's murdering me with every look. Planning my death in a thousand different ways. I've put her over a barrel and she knows it, and she hates me for it.
"By the power vested in me," Father Dominic says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." He glances between us, and I catch the faint smile playing at his lips. "You may kiss your bride."
I turn to Holly, one eyebrow raised in question. Her jaw sets, her chin lifting in defiance.
"Not in this lifetime,king," she warns, her voice low and deadly.
I smile then, slow and measured. Let it spread across my face until I know she can see every ounce of satisfaction I'm feeling.
Father Dominic leans forward a little. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to seal it with a kiss.”
Holly's eyes widen, darting between the priest and me. "You can't be serious."
"It's tradition, my dear," he says kindly.
I watch the war playing out across her face. She knows she's trapped. That there is no point in refusing. Because I always get my way.
"Fine," she bites out, turning to face me fully. "Let's get this over with."
I step closer and I can see her pulse hammering at her throat. Her hands clench into fists at her sides.
"Just make it quick," she mutters.
I smile. "As my wife commands."
She expects a brief touch to satisfy tradition and nothing more.
But I’m going to take advantage of the moment to enjoy Holly’s lips on mine.
I cup her face in my hands and lower my mouth to hers. The first brush of lips sends a shockwave through my entire body, because she is softer, warmer, and sweeter than I expected.
For half a heartbeat she's frozen, still clinging to that beautiful defiance, but then something breaks in her, and her sweet lips part against my mouth.
It’s all the invitation I need. I deepen the kiss, angling her head back, and when my tongue sweeps against hers, she makes a sound that goes straight to my cock.
I want to devour her.
I want to spend the night making her moan louder.
Her body melts into mine, her soft curves molding against hard muscle, her mouth opening wider and meeting every stroke of my tongue with increasing desperation.
Then she wrenches herself away and stumbles backward, glaring across at me.
Her lips are swollen and red, her pupils blown wide, and she's looking at me like I've just committed another crime.
"You..." Her voice is wrecked and breathless but she stops short of calling me another name.
She glares at me with blazing eyes, trying desperately to summon back her anger even as her fingers touch her own mouth like she can't believe what just happened.
