Page 29 of His Disobedient Bride

The week leading up to my wedding is nerve-wracking, my stomach in a bundle of nerves.

Cerise takes me shopping for new clothes and says she can smuggle me out of the country if I don’t want to marry Frederik.

I think about her slicing her arm open to save me and I shake my head.

“It’s too risky,” I said. “And it would be leaving Grigoriy’s protection.”

She nods her head at me, and I wonder uncomfortably if she knows the truth.

I am stupidly falling in love with Frederik.

21

FREDERIK

I was doing what I swore I would never do again.

Getting married.

I straightened my tie in the mirror and I tried to tell myself it was for Mary’s own good, the only way to keep her safe.

Then I tried to tell myself that I was doing it as a favor to Cerise, because it was easier to do what she said than to disobey her.

But with my rigid morality I had to examine my own thoughts. Wasn’t there something, deep down, something dark, that wanted to fuck Mary? Wanted to bring that flush to her chest and fuck that innocence out of her?

Like always, I had put an honorable face on base, dark savagery. I had pretended to be a gentleman. But I wanted to goddamn pound into Mary, split those creamy thighs apart, send my seed deep inside her. I wanted to see my cum on her face, force her on her knees. I wanted to take her whether she wanted it or not.

I was a monster.

I shook my head and resolutely shoved those thoughts down. I couldn’t do any of that to Mary. I had to restrain myself and treat her gently.

My brother had a lot of money and a lot of influence, and despite our family’s very public Bratva face, we were getting married in a beautiful Russian Orthodox church.

St. Seraphim’s was a huge white church with four towers, each topped with sapphire and gold tiles and a golden spire. Inside was an enormous, cavernous sanctuary, filled with hundreds of people, the wooden beams curving high over our heads, the dark icons surrounding me.

I felt a sudden worry. What if all this darkness and wood made Mary nervous? This couldn’t be how she had imagined getting married. In a foreign country. An arranged marriage to a man 25 years older than her. I wondered if there was any way I could smuggle her out of the country, send her safely home to America.

But then I saw the door at the back open, and I stopped.

Mary walked out, her steps slow and tentative. I had mostly seen her in long peasant skirts and baggy blouses, but today she was wearing a long silky white gown. It was simple, without lace or embellishments, but the fabric looked exquisitely soft and luxurious, and it clung to her body as she moved slowly down the aisle. I could see the gentle slope of her breasts and how the dress clung to her long legs. I felt a sudden twitch in my pants and realized with embarrassment that my cock was getting hard.

Right in the front of the fucking church, the mayor of the city, my own goddamn mother.

I hoped like hell that my dark suit would mean it wasn’t too conspicuous, but every step she took meant I saw even more details, even more of her that made my mouth tighten with anticipation. I thought I saw the outline of a pert nipple in her dress, and I felt my hands tightening together in front of me.

What the fuck did she have to look so goddamn sexy for?

Cerise was behind her, holding her long heavy lace veil.

I suddenly had an overwhelming worry that Mary was frightened, that she didn’t want to get married. I couldn’t see her eyes very well. She wasn’t like Cerise, who was behind her, meeting everyone’s eyes boldly. Mary was shy. I shouldn’t have made her get married in front of all these people.

She reached the front of the church and I put my hand out and took hers in mine. It was trembling. I put my other hand over it. My hand seemed to dwarf her smaller one. I looked at the silvery threads on the back of my strong tanned hands.

I was cruel to have wanted her for myself. With my power I could easily have smuggled her out of Russia and Cerise would have helped me do it.

The reason Mary was still here was because I selfishly wanted to have her.

Her hand trembled again in mine as we faced each other. She was frightened. I would have to be extra careful not to do anything that would make her more anxious.

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