I groan as the friction of the silk against my skin and her heat surrounding me push me to the brink. I lean in, my sweat-slicked chest pressing against the delicate bodice of the gown, my breath hot and ragged against her ear.
“I’m tempted to tear this damn thing to pieces,” I rasp, my voice vibrating with a dangerous edge. “I want to rip it off you with my bare hands…but you looked so beautiful in it today. Like a goddess I didn’t deserve to touch.”
Raelyn gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders, but then a wicked, defiant spark lights up her eyes. She tilts her head back, a breathless, taunting laugh escaping her lips as she looks at me through heavy lids.
“Maybe the big, bad monster is finally intimidated by a little bit of silk,” she whispers, her voice a sharp, provocative lure.
The growl that erupts from my throat is pure, unadulterated territorialism. “You think I’m afraid?”
I reach up, my fingers hooking into the delicate neckline of the gown. With one violent, powerful jerk, I rip the bodice down the center. The sound of tearing silk and popping threads echoes like a gunshot in the room. The expensive lace hangs in ruined shreds around her waist, exposing her breasts to the cool air and my burning gaze.
“There,” I hiss, my eyes darkening until they’re almost black as I stare at the wreckage I’ve made of the lace. “I’ll buy another one. Damn, I’ll buy you a hundred. For this stunning view of your breasts, Raelyn, I’ll open a fucking store full of wedding dresses just to tear them off you every single night.”
The sight of her—half-clothed in ruined finery, her skin flushed and her eyes wild—is more than I can take. I lower my head, my mouth finding one of her aching nipples and sucking it deep into the heat of my mouth. I use my teeth, grazing the peak until she lets out a sharp, high-pitched cry that vibrates through my teeth and straight into my blood.
I don’t just move inside her; I pound into her. Every thrust is a declaration, a heavy, rhythmic claim that rattles the frame of the bed. I want to leave my mark on her soul. I want her to feel the sheer, overwhelming weight of my need in every nerve ending.
Raelyn writhes beneath me, her body a beautiful, chaotic tangle of white silk and golden skin. She arches her back, her fingers clawing at my biceps as she tries to find purchase, her breath coming in short, jagged hitches that sync with the frantic pace I’m setting.
“Konstantin…please,” she gasps, her head tossing from side to side on the pillows.
“Please, what?” I growl against her skin, moving my mouth to the other breast to give it the same punishing attention. I drive into her even harder, the friction building to a white-hot flashpoint. “Tell me exactly what you want, Raelyn. Tell me how you want your husband to finish you.”
I can feel her nearing the edge, her internal muscles tightening around me like a vice, and the knowledge that I’m the one who brought her to this fever pitch makes me feel like a king—and her most devoted slave.
In one fluid, powerful motion, I pull out of her slick heat and haul her upright. I flip her over, pressing her chest down into the pile of ruined silk and pillows, and hook my fingers into her hips to pull her back against me.
The view from behind is staggering—the torn white lace of her gown framing the curve of her ass, the diamonds still sparkling at her neck, and her skin glowing like heated ivory. I can see us in the floor-to-ceiling mirror across from the bed, and the sight of my hands bruising her pale hips is the final blow to my restraint.
“Look at us, Raelyn,” I command, my voice a dark, jagged rasp as I lean over her, my chest pressing into her back. I grab her chin, forcing her to look at our reflection. “Look at what you do to me. Look at how I’m taking you.”
I don’t wait for her to answer. I drive back into her from behind, a deep, singular thrust that bottomed out, making her let out a sharp, choked-off scream. I wrap one hand around her throat—not to hurt, but to anchor her, my thumb feeling the frantic, galloping beat of her pulse.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” I growl, watching in the mirror as I set a pace that is nothing short of violent. “All that innocence I thought I had to protect…I’m glad it’s gone. I’m glad I’m the one who destroyed it.”
I watch her eyes glaze over in the reflection, her mouth hanging open as she watches me claim her. Every hit, every wet slap of skin against skin, echoes through the room. I’m relentless, driving her face back into the pillows and then pulling her back up to see the way my body is breaking hers apart.
“Say it,” I hiss, my release coiling in my gut like a physical weight. “Tell the man in the mirror who you belong to.”
I tighten my grip on her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as I drive into her with everything I have left. The mirror doesn’t lie; it shows the raw, unfiltered truth of my obsession.Her head is thrown back, her throat arched, the diamonds at her neck catching the light in frantic, jagged flashes.
“Tell me!” I roar, the sound echoing off the walls as the pressure in my veins hits the boiling point. “Whose are you, Raelyn?”
She breaks. It’s not just a cry; it’s a total, vocal surrender that rips through the air. Her voice is raw, stripped of every inhibition she ever held.
“Yours!” she screams, the word vibrating through the mattress. “I’m yours, Konstantin! Only yours! Please…fuck, now!”
Her body convulses beneath mine, her internal muscles clenching in a frantic rhythm that feels like she’s trying to pull the very soul out of me. The sound of her screaming my name, her face twisted in that beautiful, agonizing mask of pleasure, is the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.
“That’s it,” I say, my voice a wrecked, guttural growl. “Take all of it.”
I bury myself in her one last time, my spine going rigid as I finally shatter. I pour into her, my own shout joining hers as the world disappears into a white-hot haze of lace, sweat, and absolute possession. I hold her tight, pinning her against the bed as the tremors rack both our bodies, refusing to let go until every last drop of my release is hers.
The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by our jagged, synchronized breathing and the soft rustle of the ruined wedding gown beneath us.
I pull out of her slowly, my body feeling heavy and strangely hollow now that the fire has peaked. I don’t let her move an inch away. I reach down, gathering her trembling form—shreds of lace, tangled hair, and all—and haul her back against my chest. I wrap my arms around her so tightly there’s no room for air between us, my chin resting on the crown of her head.
The room is silent, save for the frantic thrum of our hearts slowly finding a shared rhythm.