Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Eleven

Soft instrumental music begins to play as the room rises to a stand at the first sight of Sebastian and Willow. They walk toward me, looking quite the pair and acting as if this wedding isn’t between two people who barely know each other.

They make it to the end but just before they take their places to the side, Sebastian leans in, a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re so fucked,” He chuckles under his breath, “She’s killer man. Fucking killer.”

Willow stands on the opposite side, holding a small bouquet of white flowers, while Sebastian takes his place behind me, that grin still splitting his face.

I already know how stunning Olivia is, I don’t see how today makes any difference – oh shit.

She finally comes into view, my grandfather at her side, arm linked with hers.

Devastating.

I hear a quiet murmur start in the room, hushed whispers between parties as they discuss everything that she is. Her hair, her dress, the makeup she has chosen to wear. They’ll rip her apart like the damn vultures I know they can be.

But Olivia truly is stunning.

Her dark hair pulled away from her face to showcase her long delicate neck, the neckline of the dress low that I get a peek at the mounds of her breasts, barely being held in by the silk that hugs her body like a second skin, flowing over her curves. She holds a bouquet of blue and white blooms, her grip on them so tight her knuckles have turned white.

She doesn’t look like she’s breathing much at all and instead of looking at me, she stares straight ahead at the wall behind me. Camera’s flash, a mix of the paparazzi that had been formally invited and some of my council members wanting documentation for the archive.

The garden room has been transformed to be able to seat over three hundred people, the space decorated to perfection to match the color scheme the planners had come up with. It’s a damn good wedding even if the bride looks like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Finally, they make it to me, and my grandfather gently presses a kiss to the top of her hand before he places it in mine. Still, she doesn’t look at me, her eyes to the floor.

“Eyes on me, kitten,” I whisper, “Give them all a show.”

Her eyes snap to mine, blazing with so much swirling heat that resembles something like resentment.

“You are breathtaking,” I tell her.

Her jaw pops as she clenches her teeth and the officiant steps up and she diverts her gaze to him, her hand trembling within mine. I stroke my thumb over her knuckles, hoping to soothe her, focusing on the tender caresses of my thumb over her delicate skin, so soft under the roughness of mine. The tremors seem to ease but they don’t go completely but I’ll take it as a win, nonetheless.

As the officiant goes through the spiel, the room is silent around us, I keep my eyes on her. Tracing over the line of her jaw, down her throat, her collar bones and shoulders. I stare at the darkness of her eyes, framed by impossibly long black lashes and how her skin has a slight shimmer to it beneath the gold lights in the room. It’s gloomy beyond the windows, the frost that fell overnight has not yet melted and it leaves the landscape around us a wash of white and grey. Perhaps if we were on better terms, I would have whisked her off somewhere hot for a honeymoon, but I can’t guarantee she wouldn’t try to murder me while we were away and claim it as an accident.

I repeat the vows provided to me, slipping the platinum ring, embedded with diamonds onto her finger. Her thumb instantly starts to play with it, spinning it around her finger and as she repeats the vows, her voice shakes.

She slides the ring onto my finger, staring at it.

“You may kiss the bride!” The words are yelled and for just a moment the world stops spinning.

Olivia’s wide eyes latch to mine, panic seizing her, so I step in, closing the gap between us and take her face in my hands.

Her eyes bounce between mine, the room around us silent save for the rapid breaths she expels from her lungs.

And then I lean, keeping my eyes on hers until my mouth whispers across her plump lips. A breath whooshes from her and her lips part just enough for me to take hold. I crash my mouth to hers, tasting her for the first time, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips in request for access.

I’m delightfully surprised when she parts and lets me in.

I deepen the kiss, not giving a single fuck to the hundreds of eyes staring at us or the frenzy of flashing cameras as I claim her right here, in front of them all. Her hands grip my wrists and I tilt my head, forcing her to do the same as I slide my tongue into her mouth. She tastes like devastation, like the sweetest ruin, and I’m starving for her.

She makes it damn hard to breathe.

Someone clears their throat and it’s enough to startle her. She snaps out of my hold, putting the distance between us again and then she glares at me, her kiss swollen mouth looking far too appealing in this moment.

“Savor it,” She whisper hisses at me as I step up and link her arm with mine, “That’ll be the only kiss you’ll ever get from me.”

I chuckle low as I begin the walk back down the aisle, “Scratch and bite all you want, kitten,” I say to her, “But you’re now mine. My wife. Make sure you remember that when you look into the mirror and reminisce what it felt like to kiss me.”

She scoffs, turning her attention ahead of her as we make it out of the room. I direct her down the hallway toward the grand hall where the reception is being held and guide her to the head table, pulling out her seat as she lowers herself, reaching for the wine already in an ice bucket between our two places.

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” I warn her, watching her fill her wine glass to the rim, “Pace yourself.”

My eyes narrow, the need to punish her making my fingers itch as she lifts the glass, downs half of it and then flips me her middle finger, finishing it all off with a saccharine smile.

My teeth grind together as I take my place next to her, watching the guests file into the room.

Sebastian comes to take his seat next to me while Willow places herself next to Olivia.

“Regina is here,” Sebastian whispers in my ear, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, “she’s already spreading the rumor you two are still an item behind Olivia’s back.”

I roll my eyes, “Where is her father?”

Sebastian points to the greying man, rotund in shape and balding on top, Hank Ware is as much of a slimy asshole as Kenneth, Regina’s uncle was. He just happens to sit on the council making it harder to dispose of him.

To be honest, he’s been a good sport about not having his daughter married to me, it’s a power move, one I know he wanted so I couldn’t be too angry at him, even if he couldn’t keep his spoiled daughter in her place.

“I’ll speak with him,” I tell Sebastian, “Keep Regina away from Olivia.”

He nods, looking over my shoulder at my new wife. “That was quite the kiss.”

Lowering my voice, I chuckle, “Scared of being a hundred grand lighter now?”

“Nah,” He leans back, “She came to her senses pretty quick.”

I roll my eyes, the commotion in the room settling so I turn my attention back to Olivia. She’s moved her chair further away from me, closer to Willow and is sipping her wine. The whole glass is almost gone.

That just won’t do.

Grasping the chair, I yank it back, the wine in her glass spilling over and splashing against the tablecloth.

“What the fuck!?” She growls at me.

“We just got married,” I tell her, “Putting a mile between us is hardly selling it.”

“You got the wife,” She replies, “we never agreed that I had to sell it too.”

“You keep pushing me, kitten.” I warn.

“What?” She flutters her lashes, “You’ll tell me off?”

“Don’t fucking test me.”

“Or what, Malakai?” She challenges, a devious little glint lighting up the darkness of her eyes. “What exactly are you going to do?”

I open my mouth to speak but a photographer steps up to the table, “A photo for the city paper,” He says with a grin, “Say cheese.”

I place my arm around Olivia’s shoulder, pulling her in close as I rest my mouth against her hair, the camera going off as he captures a moment that looks intimate but is anything but.

She goes to move away, but I don’t give her an inch, “Olivia, darling,” I purr, voice quiet and only for her, “When you give yourself up to me, when I have you spread beneath me, naked, wet, and panting, I’ll remember every moment you defied me. Every challenge you threw at my feet, and I’ll deliver it back.” She stiffens under me, “Your ass will be sore, your cunt throbbing but I won’t stop, even when you beg me to.”

“Congratulations!” The photographer scurries off and I finally let her go, reveling in the blush that has risen to her chest, turning her skin pink.

She practically leaps away from me, keeping her eyes off me as she reaches for the wine, scoots her chair toward Willow and tops up both their glasses.

“You’re so fucked,” Sebastian laughs.

“We’ll see,” I reply, staring at the back of my wife’s head, “We’ll see who breaks first.”