Page 103 of The Billionaire's Secret
She moans.
"Tell me, Gigi."
"You, they belong to you."
"And your hungry gaze, with which you watch me as I come, who does that belong to?"
"You."
"Your hair, your skin, the nails on your toes, the eyelashes that frame those gorgeous eyes… Whose are they?"
"Yours."
"And you. Who do you belong to, Gigi?"
"You, Sir. I belong to you."
"Damn fucking right." My cock hardens impossibly and my balls tighten. The doors open. I yank her close, press my lips to hers. "Don’t fucking let me down now," I whisper against her mouth. "You feel me, Gigi?"
She nods.
"Saint… Victoria, why is it that you two can’t keep your hands off each other for the few minutes that’s needed from you to seal this holy union?"
Victoria tries to pull away. I release her neck, only to wind my arm around her waist and pull her close. She resists, but I tug with enough force that she falls into me. I keep her there, pressed from thigh to hip, tuck her under my arm.Good.I have her where I can finally keep an eye—and other parts of my body—tuned into her.
I glance at Edward, "Perhaps because there isn’t an unholier couple in history who’ve attempted to make a go at this bloody ceremony?"
"Saint," Edward admonishes me, "language."
"Fuck, Father. Seriously?"
Edward frowns, then steps back. We walk through, and come to a halt. I glance around the assembled faces.
"The fuck?" I glower. "What’s this, a circus?"
"You’re getting married, ol' chap, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to invite our friends to witness your downfall," Weston ambles forward.
Amelie breaks away from his side and darts forward.
She embraces Victoria, "Oh my God!" she whisper-screams, "You’re doing this? You’re actually gonna go through with this, V?"
Victoria pats the woman on her shoulder as her eyes meet mine.
I glare at her. She swallows, something in her gaze pleading with me, beseeching me... For what? Reassurance? Asking me to tell her that it will all be okay? Perhaps a promise that all the bad stuff will go away and we’ll live happily ever after? Not. She’s not getting anything of the sort from me.
I turn away, crack my neck. "The fuck is it so hot in here?"
Weston blinks. He peers into my face, then chuckles. "You nervous, man?"
"Of course, not," I frown.
"You should be." He grins, "Not every day that one of the most confirmed bachelors in town decides to walk down the aisle."
"It’s a fake wedding, dickwad," I growl.
He laughs, "You sure about that?"
"Of course, I am… I mean, it’s real to begin, but I plan to walk away from her when—" I twist my lips.
