AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Antonio’s tone is controlled and flows like liquid.
His eyes aren’t predatory when they meet mine.
They’re possessive.
Though this is a forced marriage, I won’t lie and say there’s no intimacy here.
Antonio brushes his thumb along the side of my hand, relaxing me.
“You may”—the priest rubs his eyebrow—“kiss the bride.”
Antonio curls his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me toward him. His lips creep closer, and right before they reach mine, I smack a hand over my mouth.
“Move your hand, or I’ll bite it off,” he demands.
I clasp it tighter and shake my head.
His hand around my neck inches up, and he tugs my hair, causing my head to fall back. I’m proud of how well I keep my hand on my face. He chuckles at my defiance before shoving me backward. I gasp when my back hits the wall, and he rips my hand away from my mouth, slapping it against the wall. While keeping my hand trapped underneath his, he smashes his lips against mine.
I can’t stop myself from opening my mouth and surrendering to our kiss. He presses his tongue into my mouth, and everyone around us fades away as we kiss for the first time ashusband and wife.
Gone are thoughts of a forced marriage.
He forced my hand, though never forced my feelings for him.
My breaths are shallow when he pulls away.
He caresses my cheek, and his eyes gleam. “Time for pictures,wife.”
“Not happening.” I roll against the wall, away from him, while coming to my senses. “There shall be no proof of this”—I flick my hand through the air—“fraud of a marriage.”
“Call it a fraud marriage again, and I’ll keep the priest here to marry us every fucking hour,” he says, snatching me before handing Leo his phone.
Antonio holds me, and I glare at Leo as he takes a photo.
When he hands the phone back to Antonio for his approval, Antonio shakes his head and gives it back.
“Smile like you’re happy, princess,” Antonio says.
I don’t.
So we do it again.
Over and over.
I finally give in after photo attempt twenty-two.
“Good girl.” He pets my head and then leads me into the kitchen.
A document is on the table.
“Sign.” Antonio holds out a pen.
I inch closer to the table and read it.
A marriage certificate.
I shake my head, refusing to accept the pen.
