Maddy rolls her eyes, then sighs. “Is he your plus-one at the wedding? You never told me. I mean, of course you can bring him, it’s just we keep adding people and it was supposed to be only one hundred people.”
“A wedding is a time to celebrate, Madelina,” Georgina interjects. “You only get married once.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Beaumont agrees. “Considering you’re not paying for the wedding, I don’t understand why additional guests should be a problem.”
Beside me, Maddy lowers her gaze to avoid an argument. Despite her earlier outburst regarding my personal life, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Maddy only wanted something intimate, and judging by the conversations had tonight, this wedding is becoming a bigger event than she anticipated.
My hands twitch nervously beneath the table. “I’ll get back to you about Marco. It depends on a few things, I guess.”
This night is going progressively downhill. I desperately eye the bottle of wine, wishing I could drink all this tension away. The temperature inside the room increases to an uncomfortable level. My breathing becomes much faster, forcing me to reach for the glass of water to calm myself down. As I bring the glass to my dry mouth, I catch a glimpse of Aston staring at me with his lips pressed flat and eyes burning with jealousy.
My head falls, desperate to control the desire consuming me. I’m all shades of fucked-up. How can this man across from me turn me on with his toxic behavior? Everyone knows jealousy is a red flag.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” I inform everyone.
I wander down the hall to the restroom toward the back of the house. Inside, I wash my hands before resting them on the countertop to gather my thoughts.
The creak of the door catches my attention.
I don’t look up, consumed by my racing heart and the adrenaline running through my veins. Whoever has just opened the door has made their presence known.
My eyes close to control my breathing until Aston’s body presses up against my back, and his lips find their way to my neck.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear yesterday,” he murmurs, placing small kisses on my skin, which drives me insane. “I won’t allow another man to touch you.”
I open my eyes, staring at our reflection in the mirror. “Then I won’t allow another woman to touch you.”
He pauses mid-kiss, meeting my gaze with a brutish smirk. “Jealousy looks beautiful on you.”
“I never said I was jealous.”
Aston moves his hand toward the base of my neck, keeping me locked in this position. With his eyes still focused on the mirror, he brings his lips to my earlobe.
“So, Viviana getting down on her knees and begging to take me in doesn’t make you jealous at all?”
My chest rises and falls rapidly, making it difficult to respond. Inside my stomach, a swirl of desire threatens to take my entire body into meltdown mode, warning me my next move is dangerous.
“Does me getting down on my knees begging to take the doctor in make you jealous?”
Aston presses against my ass, his hard cock only making me more turned on.
I’m no longer in denial; his shaft isbig.
“Sweetheart, the only cock you’ll be taking in is mine. You understand me?”
I purse my lips together, then tease, “And who says my body belongs to you?”
His lips angle into a wicked grin as his hand moves toward the hem of my dress. I suck in a breath, forcing myself not to combust as he nears the edge of my panties.He wouldn’t dare, not here inside his parents’ home with his entire family sitting inside the dining room waiting for us.
“The biggest mistake you can make, Miss Woods, is questioning my authority,” he rumbles.
His hand moves in the opposite direction from my thighs to the belt holding my dress together. In a swift move, he tugs on the knot and exposes my bra and panties. A slight growl escapes his lips as his eyes burn with desire, admiring my body.
I follow his every move. The way his hand shifts to my neck to hold me in place, his other hand gliding back down into my white lace panties. The moment his fingers rub against my clit, I let out a moan.
“Be a good girl and keep very quiet,” he warns, glancing briefly at the door. “We wouldn’t want to be caught, now would we?”
I can’t even think straight, let alone string together a sentence.