Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Nikolai
I never let the thing between my legs run the show, but this time? Exception made.
She tasted like sweet cherries and expensive champagne, mixed with that addictive wildness—like gunpowder ready to blow.
The second my lips crushed against hers without holding back, the thin air in the hallway ignited.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned into a cornered lioness, finally showing her claws, fists twisting into my lapels, going up on her toes, clumsy but aggressive as hell in the way she kissed me back.
Her tongue trembled as it pried open my teeth. That surge of desperation, revenge, and pure biological craving hit like a drop of high-proof liquor straight into my already-frayed nerves.
The last thread of reason snapped clean.
I tightened my arm around her waist and slammed that impossibly lush body against my chest. Through that thin emerald silk, I could feel her racing heartbeat and scorching heat.
"Mmm... take me, please..." She let out a broken whimper, her body going soft from my brutal claim on her mouth.
This was a public hallway. Anyone could walk by. Not exactly the best place for fucking.
I scooped her up. She yelped, legs wrapping around my waist on instinct.
I kicked open the door at the end of the hall—the one marked "VIP Only"—carried her inside, shouldered it shut behind us, and flipped the lock. The click echoed in the empty room.
The dressing room was huge, crammed with the bride's unworn white dresses and accessories. No overhead lights, just a ring of cold LED strips around the vanity mirror casting a dim white glow.
I pinned her against the full-length mirror without ceremony. She shuddered, then started panting hard.
"You're completely insane..." she gasped, chest heaving. That plunging V-neckline rose and fell violently, her creamy fullness threatening to spill free from the silk. But her hands? Still honest as hell, roaming my chest.
"You started this, Vivienne," I growled, biting down hard on the vulnerable curve of her neck, feeling her pulse hammering beneath my teeth. "On the plane. And just now... You sure you want to back out? My little firecracker?"
I reached roughly behind her, fumbling for the hidden zipper on her dress.
She wasn't idle either—frantically pulling at my belt.
My cock had been locked and loaded for a while now, springing free the second she got it loose.
She grabbed it without hesitation with one hand, the other yanking impatiently at my clothes. Eager little kitten.
Just as her fingers brushed the left lapel of my suit, her movement stopped—jarring, sudden.
In the weak light, her fingertip traced over the custom pin fastened there. A sterling silver double-headed eagle, wings spread wide, every feather radiating cold, lethal intent.
"Wait..." Her breath hitched, blue eyes flickering in the dimness as her gaze dropped quickly to my wrist—just exposed when I'd undone my cuff. "This symbol..."
"Now's really the time to notice that, kitten?" I snarled, patience gone. I grabbed her interfering hand and pinned it to the mirror, my other hand yanking her emerald dress zipper all the way down in one smooth pull.
The silky fabric lost its support instantly, sliding down her voluptuous curves and pooling at her ankles.
When her bare, perfect hourglass figure was fully exposed, my throat worked hard swallowing.
Derek was a goddamn idiot. A blind fool who had no idea what masterpiece he'd thrown away.
I didn't give her another second to ask questions. I lifted her onto the wide vanity, spread her legs, and pushed between them.
I buried my face in her chest, my mouth seeking out the soft, yielding warmth of her breasts. In the heated rush, a delicate lace wedding veil hung on the wall slipped and fluttered down, draping softly over her head and bare shoulders like a sinful halo.
"You look just like a beautiful bride-to-be," I growled against her skin, my voice thick with lust as I took in the sight of her flushed face framed by the innocent white lace.
She let out a shaky, wicked laugh, her eyes gleaming with mischief even as her body pressed urgently against mine.
"You freak, how dare you? Right here on my wedding day, in the dressing room with guests just outside the door?
Forcing yourself on this innocent, pitiful bride like some kind of beast... "
Her words sent a feral surge through me.
Her skin was flushed and fever-hot, scented with the faint perfume and something sweeter, more primal—her own arousal.
My tongue traced slow, deliberate circles around one hardened peak, feeling it tighten further under the wet heat of my mouth.
I pulled it between my lips, sucking hard, the flat of my tongue pressing firmly against the sensitive bud while my teeth grazed lightly, just enough to send a sharp jolt through her.
She gasped sharply, her fingers tangling almost desperately in my hair, pulling me closer as her back arched off the wall.
I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, alternating between long, deep pulls and quick flicks of my tongue.
Her nipple throbbed against my tongue, and I could feel her heartbeat racing beneath my lips.
I lifted my eyes to meet hers—those dark pools swirling with lust, gleaming with that unmistakable spark of mischief.
"Tell me," I murmured against her skin, my voice low and dripping with sin, the vibration making her shiver, "does the groom know his bride's about to get fucked by another man? Right here. One wall away."
Her eyes went wide, a deep flush blooming from her cheeks all the way down her throat and across her collarbones.
For a heartbeat, she looked mortified, her lips parting in shock.
Then something shifted deep inside her. She bit her lower lip slowly, deliberately, and arched her body into mine with renewed hunger.
One smooth leg wrapped around my waist, her foot sliding down to press and rub deliberately against my ass through my pants, the pressure urging me closer, grinding her hips forward in silent demand.
"He's out there," she whispered, her voice breathy and wicked, each word laced with filthy excitement. "Right outside. And you're about to fuck his bride."
Something feral snapped loose inside me.
My cock throbbed painfully, aching to bury itself deep inside her slick heat.
But I held back—barely—teasing us both. I dragged the thick head of my cock along her entrance, coating myself in her abundant wetness, sliding up and down her swollen folds with agonizing slowness.
The obscene sound of her slickness filled the small room, mixing with our ragged breathing.
"Look at you," I rasped, gripping her thigh hard enough to bruise, my fingers digging into the soft flesh as I spread her wider. "Supposed to be pure. Innocent. Walking down the aisle. But here you are, legs spread wide, begging your lover to ruin you on your wedding day. You're so fucking dirty."
She whimpered, her hips rolling shamelessly, trying to pull me inside her. Her inner walls fluttered visibly, clenching around nothing, desperate for friction. "Then do it," she shot back, eyes blazing with challenge. "Ruin me. Take this poor bride right here where anyone could hear."
I slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt in a single powerful stroke.
Her tight, velvety heat enveloped me completely, squeezing around my thick length like a vice.
She cried out, her head falling back against the mirror with a dull thud, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure-pain, the veil fluttering with the motion.
I didn't give her time to adjust—pulling almost all the way out until only the swollen head remained inside her, then driving deep again with even more force.
I set a ruthless rhythm, my hips snapping forward hard and fast, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing loudly in the room.
Each thrust pushed her up against the mirror, her breasts bouncing with the impact. I reached down between us, my thumb finding her swollen clit and rubbing tight, insistent circles in time with my thrusts, feeling her juices coat my fingers and drip down my balls.
"Who fucks you better?" I demanded, gripping her jaw firmly, forcing her to look directly into my eyes as I pounded into her. My fingers pressed into her cheeks, holding her in place while my cock stretched her wide. "Me or your husband?"
She could barely speak, gasping and moaning with every deep, punishing thrust. Her nails raked down my back, leaving stinging red lines that only spurred me on.
But she stayed in character, her voice broken and trembling.
"I-I was supposed to wear my wedding dress today," she panted, her inner muscles clenching hard around me.
"What if you break me? What if I can't walk down the aisle? "
I fucked her harder, angling my hips to hit that perfect spot deep inside her with every stroke, my balls slapping wetly against her ass, one hand fisting the veil while the other held her thigh open.
Her answer was a shameless moan, head thrown back, body arching violently as the veil fluttered with each brutal thrust. "Yes," she gasped. "God, yes... ruin your innocent bride."
I felt her tighten around me even more, her whole body trembling on the edge.
Her walls rippled and pulsed, milking my cock as her orgasm built.
I reached down again, pinching her clit lightly between my fingers while I drove into her with short, powerful strokes, grinding deep.
Her legs shook, toes curling, and she came hard—her cry muffled against my shoulder.
The sensation pushed me over the edge. With a final, deep thrust that buried me to the root, I shattered inside her. We clung to each other, bodies shuddering through the aftershocks, her veiled face buried in my neck as I filled her completely.