Page 31 of His Disobedient Bride

I’m too frightened to move for fear that they’ll know I’m there. I’m hidden but if I say something they’ll know I’m there.

I can see the dark lines of Andrei’s suit, and he has Cerise up against the wall, his big body pressing and trapping her in position. I can see that in one hand he has the front of her silky butter yellow dress gathered tight. He has all the laces in his hand, and he’s pulling them so tight she’s gasping.

With his other hand he’s reaching imperiously under her dress, spreading her thighs wide as his fingers look for the spot between her legs. I hear her soft grunt as he plunges his fingers inside her.

“Everyone will see,” I can hear her say.

“I don’t care,” her husband says, his hands moving down to his zipper. I close my eyes for a second, then can’t help popping them open again as he drives into her with a grunt.

His other hand starts up her body, past her belly, up past her heaving breasts, up the curve of her throat, to bite down on her face.

I can hear his angry hiss from here, and it sends a chill down my spine.

“You shouldn’t have interfered,” he says angrily, pulling her stays even tighter as he pounds unmercifully into her, each thrust knocking Cerise’s much smaller body into the wall, each thrust lifting her hips up into the air.

I’m terrified. Should I try to distract him? Scream? Do something to save Cerise?

But then he moves his hand from her face to grab one hip, and she turns her head slightly.

I can see her expression for the first time. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open, and the expression on her face is unmistakable.

She’s aroused. There’s a flush spreading across her face, making her cheeks pink with need.

Suddenly I feel heat gathering in my belly.

She likes it.

Her mouth freed, I can hear her deep, guttural moans, and she rolls her head back onto her husband’s chest.

He suddenly stops and I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he pulls out of her.

Her moan is even louder.

“Oh Andrei, no!”

I see his big chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back from her.

“Are you going to interfere again?” he says sharply, putting one big hand on the wall next to her.

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and he suddenly tears off the sleeve of her dress, bending down to run his tongue across her inner elbow and up to her shoulder.

“No, Andrei, no,” she says, and her voice is so throaty and thick and I am surprised to feel such a hot, heavy urgency to touch my pussy.

Cerise wiggles back against him, grinding her ass on his dick, and he grabs her hips with both hands.

“Not yet, wife,” he says.

“Oh, come on!” she howls, rolling her head back so that her neck is exposed to him.

I can see him break in real time, my own breath hitching as he unfurls with a snarl and impales her, holding both her hips to keep her body steady under his unbound thrusts.

She comes loudly and hard, her hands on the wall, her fingers scraping at the wallpaper, and I can hear his feral grunt as he explodes into her.

If I wasn’t in my own wedding dress I’d have my fingers down my panties. I can already feel my arousal soaking through them. I look down and bite my lip, feeling ashamed of myself for my voyeuristic pleasure.

I can’t help looking up again to see Andrei carefully winding up Cerise’s hair into an updo, but it’s not from kindness, just so that the marks on her neck, the proof of his harsh kisses, are more visible. Cerise had turned around and is leaning back against the wall, her breasts heaving and straining even though her stays are all loosened now.

“Holy fuck,” she says with relish.

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