After showering, I slip into the gown and find him in the living room.
He turns before I can even open my mouth, sharing this unshakable magnetism.
Eyes widening, he stumbles back.
Emboldened by his reaction, I sashay over to him.
The air grows headier, tension pulsing between us like a living wire, electrifying the atmosphere. Each step dipped in sexuality. Each breath coated in desire.
His eyes set on me as if I were his favorite movie playing. I couldn’t feel more loved or desired. Maybe that’s why I crave to be his good girl, who he uses like his toy, treating me like I am precious outside the bedroom while breaking, bending, and twisting me behind closed doors.
Making love to me. Fucking the soul out of me. It doesn’t matter.
He owns me.
I own him.
“I think you owe me a wedding night, husband,” I murmur, my tone ending on a sensual rasp.
“Fuck,” he says, blinking at me as if he doesn’t know if I am a dream or reality.
He brushes his knuckles along my cheek, his features sharpening, his eyes becoming darker.
I know exactly where this is going, and I crave it, badly. Just thinking of him claiming the last of my virgin holes, I swallow. Hard.
He grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You knew what would happen dressing like this—a personal gift for me to unwrap.”
I nod, licking my lips. Goose bumps rise on my feverish skin, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
“Tonight, I’ll fuck your ass. Claim your last virgin hole. Tonight, we consummate our marriage,” he says, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
In one swift move, he gathers me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom bridal style.
All my nerves vanish when he gazes into my eyes, deep enough that he strokes my heartstrings, making them sing for him.
I am his.
He’s mine.
The end.
30
TRISTAN
“Iloved the first dress, but this one…” I groan low in my throat as I gently place her down on the floor, thinking how to prolong savoring her when I am burning up to have her already.
I want to imprint this image in my brain of my wife giving herself to me—bright smile and deep trust. The things I treasure most.
From the moment she set those mesmerizing green eyes on me, I was done. She spun her web around me, hooking me in for good—becoming my everything.
She lets out a stuttered breath, betraying she’s just as affected as I am. “Do you like it?” she murmurs.
“I fucking love it.”
She keeps surprising me, but I think my woman will never cease to amaze me.
“Fuck if I deserve you, but I don’t care. I am the worst sinner who finds absolution in you. Will do my best to be worthy of you. Be the best man for you.”
