Victoria tips up her head. Our gazes clash—green, emerald seas, stormy with a hint of wariness, fortified with that strength I am coming to associate with her.
She swallows and her lips tremble. I take in her features—her flushed cheeks, the straight set of her shoulders, her stiff spine. She is ready to take on the world, to face anything. The woman has a resilience that belies her delicate build.
I hold out my hand. She draws in a breath. I hold her gaze, jerk my chin. She draws herself up to her full height, hesitates.
She twists her fingers in front of her. Under the skirt of her dress, her thighs move. Is she turned on? Can she sense the imprint of my fingers inside of her, my tongue licking her clit, my mouth biting down on her pussy as I take her to the edge, only to draw back, leaving her waiting, wanting, needing.
The opening notes ofAll You Need is Loveby The Beatles fill the room. The crowd quietens. Her gaze widens.
Come.I curl my fingers.
She takes a step toward me, and another.
I stay where I am, brace my feet against the plush carpets, hand outstretched, stalking her as she closes the distance between us.
When she reaches me, she pauses, glances down at my hand, then back at my face.
I allow a smirk to curl my lips.Make a dash for it. Try to escape. Do it.
She places her hand in mine.
I blink.
The warmth of her fingers bleeds into my skin. Her touch is soft, like the petals of a flower, waiting to be torn from its stem. Her palm trembles and she draws back, but I shackle her wrist with my fingers.
She shudders.
I draw her close, weave my fingers with hers. Stare down into her eyes, drinking from that glimmer of anticipation, of surprise, of…Something more I can’t quite define. Her scent crowds my nostrils—subtle lilies, a dash of pepper, laced with that sweetness that tells me she’s aroused. My groin hardens and my cock thickens. I squeeze her fingers.
"You remembered that I love the Beatles?" She whispers.
"I told you, I'd never forget anything about you." I nod toward the front of the room. "Ready, Gigi?"
26
What did the hamburger buy his sweetheart?
Answer: An onion ring
Victoria
No, I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.He walks forward and I follow. Not that I have a choice. Not that I am going to resist. It doesn’t matter what transpired before this. I am here… With him now... Next to him, as he moves toward where Edward, the same minister who married Sinclair and Summer, waits for us.
"What about the paperwork for the wedding?" I whisper.
"It’s taken care of."
"But how…?"
He angles an eyebrow, "Does it matter? I am the third richest man in the country. Do you think something like paperwork would get in the way of me from getting what I want?"
Right. Of course. Anything can be bought with money…except me. He probably thinks that’s why I’m standing here in this sham of a ceremony, tying myself to him for as long as he intends to have me? I stiffen my shoulders. I’ve got this. I’ll let him think what he wants. I can get through this. I’ve made it this far… I’m approaching the last mile. This will make it easier for me to keep an eye on him. Surely, the proximity will ensure I can wrangle my way into his affairs.
I lean into him, "What were the results of the blood tests?"
"You're clean. So am I." He angles his head, "Not that we needed to know in advance of tonight."
Huh?I furrow my brows.Does that mean…?He doesn’t intend to fuck me on our wedding night? And it would be fucking, make no mistake. He’s told me, in no uncertain terms, that he means to have me… Or perhaps he’s not the bare back kind…? A hollowness grips my stomach.