Page 95 of Heartless Vows

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Nervous flutters fill my stomach as I study my reflection. The simple sundress looks nothing like the floor-length gown I’ll wear next month at our fancy-shmancy ‘official’ wedding—which I’d happily skip. But Giorgio insists he must ‘show off his beautiful bride’, which just means he wants to stake his claim over me in public—which I’m oddly not mad about—but despite both dresses being comfortable, this one feels more like me.

Which is absolutely terrifying. The fancy gown is a persona. A shield.

This dress is me. I’m exposed, and not because of the sleeveless top or the hem teasing just above my knees.

The colorful pattern and simple cut fit my personality. It represents the true me. The sibling Tristan relies on, the sister-in-law Serenity adores, and the woman Giorgio loves.

I take a deep breath and relax my fingers before I crush my bouquet.

The door opens behind me.

I meet Giorgio’s eyes in the mirror and twirl around.

“No. Out,” I demand.

He quirks a brow as I stalk across the room and attempt to straight-arm him toward the door.

“Yes. In,” he counters.

I gasp when he grabs my wrist and twirls me around. With my bouquet in one hand and the other stretched across my body and trapped in his grip, I have no choice but to stumble forward as he guides me to the vanity with his bulk.

He doesn’t stop until the edge of the counter digs into my upper thighs. An inferno rages in my core as he slips his free hand into my dress and cups my breast.

“What is this?” he growls and flicks his thumb over the nipple cover.

I wriggle and stop myself from biting my bottom lip just in time to save my lip gloss.

“I can’t wear a bra with this dress,” I say.

“I know. That’s why I like it,” he murmurs.

He kneads my breast with his massive hand.

I squirm just to enjoy his hard cock rubbing against my back and respond in a breathy voice, “I also can’t flash all our friends and family.”

“But these don’t seem very comfortable. Let me—”

He pinches the patch between his fingers.

“Don’t you dare.”

The breathy quality of my voice should embarrass me, but our reflection is more arousing than any porno I’ve ever watched. He towers over me in his delectable suit. I look so delicate and vulnerable in his arms. He could doanythingto me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

I squeak when he rolls the patch between his fingers. My nipple hardens and pulls the pasty tight around my areola.

“What will you do to keep these?”

His suggestive tone and burning eyes melt me to my core. My knees wobble as he rolls my nipple again.

“Anything,” I whisper, but I don’t care about the nipple covers.

I want him.

“Spread your legs and lean forward,mia topolina. It’s been too long,” he snarls.

My insides throb. I’m still sore from two days ago, but my need exceeds my discomfort, so I shuffle my heels farther apart and lean forward.

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