"This dress," I growl, fingers splaying across her spine. "This fucking dress. You've been driving me insane all ceremony with this skin showing."
"That was the point," she admits quietly.
I pull back to look at her. "You chose this dress to torture me?"
"Anya said it would drive you crazy."
"It did." I slide my hands lower, tracing the edge where fabric meets skin. "Do you know how hard it was to stand there and nottouch you? To watch you walk toward me with your back bare and know I couldn't put my hands on you?"
She's breathing faster now, her body responding to my touch even through the layers of her dress.
"But now you're mine," I continue, one hand sliding up to tangle in her hair. "Mrs. Maksimova. My wife. And tonight I'm going to peel this dress off you slowly and worship every inch of skin it's been hiding."
The drive to the estate takes twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of me touching her, tasting her neck, grinding up against her through all the layers of white satin. She's trembling by the time we pull through the gates, and I can feel how wet she is even through our clothes.
Perfect.
Viktor opens the door. I lift Vera out, cradling her against my chest.
"I can walk—"
"No." I start toward the house. "I'm carrying you over the threshold. Tradition."
She doesn't fight. Just wraps her arms around my neck and lets me carry her like the bride she is.
Inside, I don't stop. Don't give her time to think or panic or change her mind. I carry her straight upstairs to our bedroom, kick the door shut behind us, and set her down carefully in the center of the room.
Then I lock the door.
The click of the lock is loud in the sudden silence. Final. She's in here with me now, and there's no escape.
I turn to face her. She's standing exactly where I left her, white dress glowing in the lamplight, dark eyes wide and watching me.
"Scared?" I ask, moving toward her slowly.
"Yes."
"Good." I reach her, cup her face in my hands. "You should be. I've been saving myself for you. Three days of not touching myself, not finding release. Everything I have, everything I've been holding back—it all belongs to you now."
I can feel her trembling. See the fear mixing with anticipation in her eyes.
"But I'm also going to make it good for you," I promise, thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I'm going to make you come so many times you lose count. I'm going to worship this body until you're begging me to stop. And then I'm going to breed you. Fill you with my cum until it takes. Until you're carrying my child."
"Pyotr."
"Turn around."
She obeys immediately, that natural submissive response I've been cultivating. I smile against her hair as I find the first pearl button at the top of her dress.
"There are so many of these buttons," I murmur, undoing the first one. "I'm going to take my time with every single one. By the time I'm done, you're going to be desperate for me."
I undo the second button. The third. Taking my time, drawing it out, feeling her breath quicken with each small reveal of skin.
"Do you know what I thought when I saw you today?" I continue, working methodically down her spine. "I thought: mine. Finally mine. After two years of watching, wanting, and planning."
Fifth button. Sixth. The dress loosens slightly.
"I thought:tonight I ruin her. Take her virginity. Breed her." Another button. "I thought:by morning she'll be full of my cum and there's nothing she can do about it."
