17. Neve
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Neve
O n the morning of our wedding I’m still in denial that any of this is real.
Dalila is here with me, in my hotel room while make-up artists and hairdressers fuss around me.
“I can’t believe this is happening again.” I sigh in frustration.
“I can’t believe it either. It’s so fucked up.” She huffs, sitting next to me, also getting her hair done.
“Dalila, please don’t let this ruin our friendship.” I glance at her reflection in the mirror. Our eyes meeting in the silver sheet of glass .
She bites her lip, rolls her eyes and shrugs. “It’s not you I’m angry with. It’s my brother.”
“So - you don’t hate me?” I ask tensely.
She laughs. “No. Dumbass.”
I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it, smiling at her. “I am so happy you are here with me - again. I need you today.”
“I’m glad I can be here for you, babe. I wish my father had listened to me.”
And I wish I could be more honest with my friend.
I wish I could tell her I’m less nervous about today’s wedding, about marrying her brother, than I was about marrying Damion. I wish I could tell her I’m a little bit excited, even though I’m angry, I’m looking forward to seeing where this leads.
But I can’t tell her that - and a huge part of the reason I can’t tell her is that I can’t admit it to myself yet.
I’m still aggressively denying my attraction to him, even though I can’t keep my eyes off him when he’s near me. The things he’s been doing to me. Undressing me and lying with his body pressed against mine - his forceful nature - the darkness in his eyes. It’s all driving me crazy with desire. I want him. I don’t want to want him, but I have to have him.
It’s so complicated.
And in a few hours we are going to be married.
“At least the groom is here.” Dalila chuckle and her mouth drops open in horror. “Oh my word, Neve, I’m so sorry that was a terrible joke. I can’t believe I said that, I have absolutely no filter on my brain sometimes?—”
I giggle. She pauses, pressing her lips closed. Then she laughs too.
“You’re not wrong.” I laugh even harder and the make-up artists sighs.
“Oh whatever , it’s my wedding I can do whatever I want.” I snap at her.
She straightens her shoulders and nods. “Yes, no, I didn’t mean?—”
Dalila laughs again, and it sets me off.
After a good five minutes of laughing I feel so much better.
It’s an incredible way to get rid of tension.
With our make-up done all we need to do is put our dresses on. Dalila in a pastel blue bridesmaid dress that looks magnificent on her - and me in a wedding dress that Celso chose for me. And to my surprise it’s perfect. I love it. He gave me three options, they all got delivered to my hotel room early this morning, but this is the one that screamed my name.
It has thin spaghetti straps, and a low dipped front, showing off some cleavage. The back dips even lower than the front though showing off my back all the way down to the curve right before my butt. It’s comfortable, elegant, timeless, and it makes me feel like a princess.
I can breathe in it which was the most important thing for me. I grin as I slip it up over my body and adjust the straps. Looking in the mirror at myself with Dalila standing behind me, I have a moment where I am happy.
I’m calm and excited and - happy. Which is so unexpected .
“You are so beautiful I think I’m going to cry.” She mumbles.
“Don’t the make-up artist already left.” I giggle.
“Ok. I’m going to go check on everything and see if they’re ready. You take a moment alone and - do whatever - I won’t be long.
She hurries out of the room. But almost as soon as the door closes I hear it open again.
“What did you forget?” I giggle, turning towards her.
But it’s Celso.
He is starting at me with his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock.
“You can’t be in here.” I stammer. “It’s not allowed - it’s against the rules or bad luck or something?—”
He walks towards me, reaching out and touching my face. His black tuxedo, with a blue flower tucked into his pocket - his dark hair slicked back and his eyes looking clear and sharp - I can’t stop staring at him. He’s so freaking gorgeous.
“You are a goddess, Neve. My angel. Truly.”
“Celso.” I stammer, still horrified to see him in my room before we are supposed to get married.
He laughs.
“My sweet, innocent angel - fuck the rules and fuck bad luck. We make our own.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Fuck the rules. I like the sound of that.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet black box.
“I wanted to give you these.” He says, taking one earring out.
Tear drop earrings in blue sapphire. They are stunning.
“You got these - for me?” I ask.
“They were my mothers. They are the only thing I have from her.”
“Celso.” I whisper, shocked that he would give them to me.
He removes the little diamond stud I am wearing and puts the tear drop sapphire earrings in for me. He turns me so that I can see myself in the mirror.
“Something blue.” He whispers against my ear, his hand brushing over my stomach and my body sparking with wild fire.
When I look in the mirror, I see us standing together. We look like we belong. Like this is how it’s supposed to be.
I swallow hard.
He leans down and kisses my neck.
“I’ll see you in a few moments, my angel.” He says, his breath warm on my skin.
And then he’s gone.
For a moment I’m in shock, my skin still tingling. I reach up and touch the earrings, letting them dangle against my fingertips. They are so beautiful. It’s so special.
Dalila comes bursting back into the room.
“It’s time.” She says.
And so the chaos begins.
A wild, busy, noisy day filled with family, reporters, friends, strangers, promises, food, champagne - and all the while I’m trying to keep up with myself.
I’m fighting myself at every corner. I shouldn’t be enjoying it. I should be barely tolerating his hands against me. But everything seems so wonderful.
I could pretend I chose him. I could pretend I am in love.
When we exchange our vows, his gaze is so tender as he says the words, promising me he will always love me.
When the priest says, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” My heart does a somersault, and my entire body spins when Celso dips me backwards to kiss me in front of a thousand people.
To me it seems like everything happened in a wild blur.
“Dance with me.” He says, the after party is loud and people are tipsy. I’m one of those people. I’ve had too much champagne and I’m having proper fun now.
But in the back of my mind I know what Celso wants when we get home and I’m terrified that I might want it too .
He leads me onto the dance floor and holds me right up against his body.
We move together, the champagne giving me courage I should not have.
“You look incredible, my love. My wife .” He grins.
I bite my lip, not sure how to respond. He speaks to me as though he loves me.
“Tonight was everything I dreamed it would be.” He nuzzles his face against my neck and my body tingles with delight. “And when we get to the honeymoon suite, it will be even more perfect.”
Fighting my arousal, still trying to deny it, I push away from him. But he won’t let me. He tugs me close again and darkness flairs in his eyes.
“Are we still playing games, Neve?” His voice is low and filled with warning.
“You don’t get to take what you want.” I say back, smirking with attitude.
“I have already taken what I want. And tonight I will take everything else that belongs to me.” He says .
“Hhmm.” I huff, acting disinterested. I see his eyes flare again. It shoots through me like an electric current.
“I think the party is over.” He says.
“It’s not even midnight.” I complain.
“We are done here.” He commands and blood pulses faster through my veins.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the venue, straight into the elevators.
As soon as though elevators close he shoves me against the wall and kisses me.
I bite down hard on his lip, tasting blood. I shove him back, just as hard. His lips curl upwards and the smile on his face is tainted with a darkness so deep it terrifies me - but it also sets a fire between my legs.
“Angel.” He warns me. “I will have what I want.”
“No. You won’t.” I taunt him, biting my lip. “You make these promises, but I image you can’t keep half of them.” I sass.
The elevator opens on our floor and he scoops me into his arms and carries me towards the honeymoon suite. I squeal and wiggle, but his grip is tight.
He kicks the door closed behind us and sets me down. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I make a run for it.
But Celso is faster, grabbing me around the waist and throwing me onto the sofa.
I squeal again and roll over to face him. He tugs his jacket off, tossing it aside.
He pounces me like a wild animal.
His fingers lock around my throat as he pushes my dress up over my thighs.
I kick and grab at his hands, but he is so much stronger than me. In the fight I rip his shirt open and buttons scatter around us. His muscles ripple when he moves, pushing his cock against my pussy to tease me.
A soft, reluctant moan of pleasure escapes my lips and my cheeks flush pink. I can feel the heat of my embarrassment. I’m so turned on by him - and I can’t even try to hide it.
He chuckles as he stares down at me, looming over me like a perfectly sculpted giant.
He stands up and pulls me with him, his lips crashing into mine.
While he kisses me he is pulling at my wedding dress. I still want to fight him. Even though I am so fucking turned on, I want to keep fighting.
I push his hands away, turn my head to the side - doing everything I can to make it difficult for him.
My dress falls to the floor around my feet and he sees the white lingerie I’m wearing.
He growls and bites his lip.
“You fucking want this—” he smirks, while his eyes eat me alive. “You would never have put this one on if you didn’t want this.” He slips his finger beneath the sheer white lace of my bra and it brushes over my nipple. Sharps electric spikes of pleasure shoot through me.
I turn to run. But again he is too quick.
My heart is beating so hard I can barely breathe.
Celso grabs a handful of my hair and shoves me back down onto the sofa, my ass in the air, pointed right at him while my face is buried in the pillows.
I scream as he pushes my face down, and he chuckles. “Are you having fun yet?” he asks, tugging his belt off.
He lets the leather belt brush over my ass cheek. “You’re lucky I don’t use this on you, angel.” I wiggle my ass, trying to free myself from his grip, but his cock brushes over my ass cheek, and I freeze. He stands up, leans forward again and his fingers slip beneath the delicate lace and in an instant he has ripped my panties off my body.
My pussy is throbbing and pulsing and dripping with need. I am shocked by how turned on I am.
The desire pulsing in my body is almost feverish, making me dizzy and desperate.
A soft whimper escapes my lips, giving away my wish.
I want him to fuck me.
I want him to fuck me like he is claiming me as his own. Everything he has said, every time he’s told me I belong to him - I want to feel it. I arch my back towards him, begging him.
His cock brushes between my legs, over my pussy, and I shudder with need.