31. Sofia
SOFIA
“Turn around, dear. Let me see the back.”
I do as I’m told as the seamstress studies the hem of my wedding dress. I sneak another long look at it in the mirror as she kneels behind me to fix a frayed end left over by the alterations.
I look really good. The dress is all white silk. It flows over my shape like oil, clinging to my hips as it falls to the floor. The spaghetti straps over my shoulders have tiny lace motifs of little flowers, and the cleavage is just the right mix of dramatic without showing too much.
I have to smile at myself. My hair and makeup haven’t been done yet, so for now my hair is lying against my bare back. I want to flip it to the front so that I can see the low dip, where it stops right at the lowest part of my waist, right before the top of the crack of my ass.
I want my hair up, though I’m sure there will be plenty of whispers from the wives and grandmothers of Titus’s brotherhood as they, themselves, do their best to ogle me without letting Titus catch them in the act.
I don’t care. I want them to see. I want them to all be jealous of the fact that I’m marrying Titus today and not any of them.
I want the world to know what he’s got. Most of all, I want him to see me and fall in love all over again.
“There,” the seamstress says in Russian. She’s a middle-aged woman with a pile of curly red hair and dark circles under her eyes. I’m told she’s the best in town, though. I can see why when I look at my ass in this dress.
She stands and looks me over, her eyes cutting to the open back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take this in a little?” she asks me. “Just for modesty’s sake?”
“No,” I say. “It’s perfect.”
She nods and says, “All right, then. It’s your wedding, after all. If you are happy, then I am ecstatic.”
There’s a knock at the door. “That must be hair and makeup,” she says, walking toward the door. “And just in time. The guests will be arriving in a couple of hours—”
I see her open the door over my shoulder as I gaze at myself in the mirror, and it is not the makeup lady. Titus stands at the door, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his beard trimmed, but he’s not in his tux. He’s wearing a tight T-shirt and slacks.
The seamstress steps in front of him. In rapid Russian, she says, “Wait. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “He can come in.”
She steps aside and Titus walks in, his eyes moving over my dress. I smile and flip my hair to the front so he can get a good view of the open back. He covers his smile with his hand.
“You look incredible,” he says.
I turn around to face him. “And you’re not dressed yet.”
“I’m waiting for my tailor. Thought I’d see how you were doing.”
I smile as I stand before him. This room was my bedroom less than a year ago.
Now it’s been converted into a sort of dressing room.
My bed and all the other furniture have been replaced with racks of clothing and mirrors.
The corner where my little couch and television were now has a daybed where I imagine I’m supposed to lounge luxuriously while my hair and makeup are being done.
“Leave us,” he says in Russian to the seamstress. She bows respectfully and leaves. He walks all the way in and circles me, surveying my body in this dress. “You said it was going to be spectacular. You didn’t mention how hot it makes you look.”
“So, you like it.”
“I do. In fact…” He steps up to me and cradles my chin, lifting my face to him. “I love you in it.”
His warm hand caresses my face, pushing my hair out of my face. I smile up at him. “You should probably get dressed. The wedding starts in a few hours.”
“They can wait for us,” he says. His hand moves down my neck, fingers tracing my neckline to my shoulder. I pull away from him.
“I’m serious,” I say. “There’ll be plenty of time for that after the wedding. I still have to get my hair and makeup done and…” He walks away, going to the door and locking it. “Titus.”
“Every man in the room is going to want you,” he says. “Maybe a few of the women, too.”
I chuckle. “So, what? You want me first? You already have me. I am marrying you today. Not them.”
I turn back to the mirror, looking myself over again. I see him walk up to me and feel his hands on my shoulders.
“Ah, but that’s the problem. I want you every minute of every day,” he says as he leans in and kisses my neck. “It’s maddening being in that other room without you. And now seeing you in this dress?”
He kisses the crook of my neck, his hands sliding the straps down my shoulders. His kisses feel good… So does the silky fabric as it slides down my body. He glances up at the mirror, raising the dress up a little, then down so that the silk slides over my nipples.
“Mmm,” he says, “Look at that. You can’t get married with your nipples so hard.”
I snicker. “They were just fine before you came into the room.”
“I see. Well, I think we’d better do something about this. Your hard nipples and my hard cock.” He presses his hips against my ass and his dick presses itself between my ass cheeks.
“Titus.” His name comes out breathy. He kisses my shoulder as he drops the straps off my shoulders. The dress hangs on my nipples for just a second before falling in a heap on the floor.
He pauses to look at me in the mirror and he smiles. I’m as naked as the day I was born. His eyes drift down to my shaven pussy and he kisses my neck again.
“No panties?”
“The dress won’t allow for it.” He bites my neck and I gasp, the thrilling, sharp pain zipping through my body. His hands move around my waist to my breasts, cradling my tits.
“I just want a little time with you,” he croons in my ear. “One more time together before we’re man and wife?”
He squeezes my nipples hard and I lean against him, the intensity sending chills up my spine. “Tell me it’ll always be like this,” I say, “and you can have me however you want me.”
“You have my word,” he whispers.
He slides his hand down my belly and between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing it slowly. I open my legs a little to give him better access and he takes full advantage. Moving his fingers a little faster with more pressure.
Just this. If this is all that he does to me, I’ll gleefully come in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and his mouth finds mine as he slips his fingers inside me. I bite his lip and he growls against mine.
“Already so wet for me,” he says. “You are so fucking gorgeous. Look at yourself.”
I look at myself in the mirror, my face flushed, chest heaving. He gives my nipple a particularly hard twist and my knees start to buckle. I lean against him to hold my balance as my thighs start to shake.
“Breathe, my love,” he whispers.
I do, closing my eyes and sinking into the warm sensation washing over me. “Fuck me.”
I twist my nipple again and a high-pitched whimper escapes me. “Try that again, Princess.”
His name for me always makes my insides melt and I submit to him every time. “Please, Daddy,” I beg him. “Fuck my pussy.”
“Better,” he says. He slows his hand down and shivers run up and down my body, threatening to send me to the floor. He lets me go and turns me around. He lifts me off my feet and carries me to the daybed.
He drops me on the bouncy mattress and a rush of laughter escapes me. Smiling down at me, he takes off his T-shirt, tossing it across the room, then he starts undoing his pants.
“How about a little challenge?” he says.
I sit up on my elbows. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve got a couple of hours until the wedding.” He pulls down his pants and his cock stands up on it’s own, harder than I’ve ever seen it. It actually looks several inches bigger than before. “How many times do you think you can come for me?”
I give him a coy look, then I slide my own fingers between my legs. He smiles and says, “Not like that. Not as long as I’m here.”
He grabs my ankles and pulls me to him. I slide to the edge of the bed and he leans in and kisses me, his breath mixing with mine with the deepest kiss. I slide my hand between us, taking hold of his cock and jacking him off between us.
“Give me a number,” I say. “And I’ll do my best.”
“Five,” he says.
I laugh. “Three.”
“All right… but you owe me the rest tonight. With interest.”
With that, pulls away from me and grabs my by my thighs, resting them on his shoulders. He buries his face between them, his warm tongue moving over my lips. I move my hips with him, leaning into him as his tongue finds my clit. It moves in slow circles around and around.
Already my legs are starting to shake. He starts sucking on it, matching the rhythm of my hip movements. I grab his hair and press his face into me.
This first one comes fast, washing over me like warm water. He holds my thighs open as they shake and I cum so hard that have to moan into a pillow to hold it down.
I’m not even over the first hill before he sits up and slaps my pussy. I arch my back, another wave of orgasm taking me. And as he slides his cock up and down my pussy, pressing it into my swollen clit, I have to cry out, “W-Wait. Fuck, wait.”
I pause as I catch my breath. “That’s only one,” he says, then he slides himself inside me, his thumb pressing into my clit.
I start squirming as he fucks me, his thumb rubbing my clit in long strokes.
I grab his wrist and he pushes it away. My legs are twitching in rhythm as I grab at his wrist again.
This time, he stops, grabbing my arm and pinning it over my head before leaning over me and grabbing me by the throat with his other hand. “Is it too much for you, baby?”
He fucks me in long slow strokes, his dick hitting the sweet spot deep inside me. He squeezes my neck and says, “You can take it, Princess. Take every inch like the queen that you are.”
His thrusts get harder as he chokes me. Before I have any hope of controlling myself, I come. My eyes roll up as my body gives up another orgasm.
He slows down and lifts up, his hands cradling my tits as he continues to fuck me, squeezing and rotating them.
I came so hard that I don’t think I’ve got another in me. “That’s two,” he says. “One more, Princess.”
I sit up on my elbows, moving my hips with his.
“That’s my girl.”
“Come with me this time, Daddy?” I ask, and he smiles. He doesn’t ever deny me when I ask nicely.
He pulls me up until I’m sitting on him. He sucks on my tits while I rock my hips back and forth on his cock. I hold his head in my hands and I’m lost in his arms.
Maybe we won’t get married today. Maybe we can just stay in here fucking all day. That could be nice too.
He grips my ass, spreading it apart. Then he lifts me up and slides me down again, his dick pressing against my asshole.
He moves slowly, whispering, “Relax into it. That’s it. Just like that.”
He starts slowly, fucking my asshole while he sucks my tits, giving the nipples little bites as he moans into my chest. His dick feels just as good deep in my ass. He guides me up and down, holding me while he thrusts deeper, harder.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he moans. “Only mine.”
“I’m all yours,” I tell him. My toes curl as another orgasm rises up. “Come with me, Titus. Fill my fucking asshole, Daddy.”
It’s all he needs to blow. I dig my nails into his shoulders as he thrusts harder and harder. When he comes, I follow, disintegrating in his arms.
He holds me, gentle kisses on my chest. I take his face in my hands and kiss him. “I can’t wait to marry you, Titus,” I whisper. “I love you.”
He sucks on my lips and moans against my mouth. “I fucking love you back.”