Chapter 15 Wedding Night
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The mansion was quiet now.
The guests were gone, the lights were dimmed, and silence had settled like a velvet curtain over the luxurious estate. Layla stood on the balcony of their shared bedroom, her fingertips brushing the cool marble railing, heart pounding in her chest.
The night air was soft against her skin, but her body was burning.
Behind her, she heard the low sound of the door closing. She didn’t have to turn around. She felt him.
Jasper.
He stepped closer, slowly, like a predator who knew he had time. His presence sent a ripple of anticipation down her spine.
“You didn’t change,” he murmured behind her.
“I was waiting,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“For me?” he asked.
She turned then, facing him. His tie was gone, shirt slightly open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. He looked dark, dangerous, and devastatingly irresistible.
“For this,” she replied.
He was on her in seconds.
Their lips crashed together, not gentle or shy, but hungry — weeks of stolen glances, fake kisses, and unresolved tension finally snapping. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him as she moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He spun her around, lifting her effortlessly and setting her down on the massive bed. Layla barely had time to catch her breath before he was over her, kissing down her neck, tugging at the zipper of her dress.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he growled against her skin.
Her dress slipped off her shoulders and pooled around her waist. His eyes darkened as he took her in — lace, silk, curves that were now his to explore.
He didn’t rush.
His hands moved over her like he owned every inch — teasing, claiming, drawing gasps from her lips as he kissed down her chest, taking his time with every sensitive spot.
Layla arched under him, her body desperate, aching.
“Jasper…” she breathed, tugging him closer.
He smirked against her skin. “You sure, Mrs. Tate?”
The way he said it sent fire straight through her.
“Yes,” she whispered, “please.”
Clothes came off, slowly — deliberately — until there was nothing between them but heat and skin and the wild need building higher and higher.
When he finally pushed inside her, it was slow and deep, her back arching, a gasp leaving her throat as he filled her completely. He paused there, forehead resting against hers, breathing heavy.
Then he moved.
Rhythmic. Powerful. Each thrust deep and unrelenting. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, a heated rhythm that had them both unraveling.
It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just release. It was everything.
Jasper kissed her like she belonged to him. And Layla gave in like she already did.
When they both finally reached the edge and fell together, trembling, breathless, and tangled in each other, it wasn’t silence that followed — it was something heavier. Something dangerous.
Something real.
And neither of them said a word as they drifted off to sleep, still wrapped in each other’s arms.
But one thought echoed in Layla’s mind as her eyes closed.
This was never going to stay fake.
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