“Oh, you should see what I’m wearing under it,” I tease.
He groans against my mouth. “I want to skip the reception and go straight to the honeymoon. I need to taste you and feel your pussy squeezing my hard cock while I fuck you all night long,” he growls as he plants kisses down the length of my neck.
“Yes, I want that option, please,” I moan.
But then the car suddenly stops, and I realize we’ve arrived at the venue already.
“Damn it,” Dimitri mutters. Then he turns to me and says, “We’re going to be the first ones to leave.”
“Agreed,” I say with a giggle.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Savina
DIMITRIAND I are on the parquet floor, swaying softly to our first dance as an officially married couple. It took a bit of persuasion to convince him not to skip ahead to the honeymoon, but I managed it by bribing him with the promise of all the wicked things I’ll let him do to me later if he agrees to go through the motions first.
As we dance, I notice Cosette standing by the beautiful five-tier wedding cake, which suspiciously looks like black forest cake rather than the lemon chiffon that she ultimately decided on after she vetoed all of my choices.
“Did you pay off the bakery to make sure that I got my favorite cake?” I ask Dimitri, my eyes narrowing on his face.
“Perhaps,” he says with a sly smile.
I grin at his admission. And when I see Cosette fuming and grabbing her cell phone to no doubt make a call to the bakery and complain, I laugh out loud. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Hey, there’s more to me than just my ruggedly handsome good looks and charming, sparkling personality.”
“Oh, wow, you forgot to mention how humble you are too,” I quip. “But, hey, don’t get too far ahead of yourself there. Your head will get too big, and you won’t be able to fit through the door.”
Suddenly, Dimitri pulls me closer and presses me up against him, letting me feel the evidence of his arousal. “Don’t talk about my big head. You’re turning me on.”
I laugh again, and he smiles, looking pleased with himself.
When the song ends and the DJ announces for everyone to join us on the dance floor, I spy Darby in the corner, tugging on a mystery man’s hand. I can’t see him through the crowd very well; his face hidden. I catch a glimpse of the two of them as they dance closely, as if very familiar with each other, and I’m hurt by the fact that she didn’t introduce me to this guy.Maybe this is who she’s been sneaking around with at all hours of the night, I think to myself.
“Who is Darby dancing with?” I ask, craning my neck to get a better look. “He looks…familiar,” I whisper as I quirk a brow.
Dimitri swings his gaze in their direction and says, “That’s Cillian Kane, the new boss of the Irish Mafia.”
“The Carver?” I choke out. That’s why his tall, muscular build looks so familiar. He’s the man who saved Darby from those men who were going to hurt her but then ultimately kidnapped her in return. Cillian looks so different cleaned up and in a suit that I didn’t even recognize him. But now that I know exactly who he is, I know exactly what needs to happen. I try to pull away so that I can go over there and kick Cillian’s ass for holding my friend captive, but Dimitri pulls me back and holds me close.
“Easy, tiger. Darby invited him here,” he says, shocking me.
“She did?” I hiss out.
“Besides, after we dismantled their old organization and got you and Darby back, we agreed to new terms with Kane. No more war. We’re no longer enemies with the Irish.” But then he adds, “For now.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better. I stare at the two of them dancing, and my best friend looks…happy. Huh, I don’t even know how I feel about that. Darby talks about Stockholm syndrome in her books all the time, so I hope that’s not what happened with her. But thisisDarby we’re talking about. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. If anything, I kind of feel bad for Cillian. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. Regardless of that fact, I can’t help but feel anxious about the whole thing. “But what if Cillian hurts her?” I press.
“Then I’ll kill him,” Dimitri assures me, and I can hear the seriousness in his tone. “Trust me, your friend is important to me too. I will protect anyone you love.”
My heart flutters from his words, and my eyes find his; green on blue. “I love you.”
He closes his eyes as if savoring what I just said. “Say those words again.”
I hesitate and then smile. “Those words,” I reply sarcastically.
He groans, pulling me closer and growling into my neck. “Don’t test my patience, Savina. I’m barely hanging on by a thread. I just want to rip that dress off your body and take you rough and hard like I’ve always dreamt about.” Then, he pulls back and stares into my eyes. “Tell me,privighetoarea mea mica,” he pleads.
