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He places his big palms on my cheeks, and he squeezes down so my lips purse. He increases the pressure until a tear drop leaks from the corner of my eyes. "Say it," he snaps. "Tell me what I want to hear, Beauty."
Anger sluices a path through my veins. My vision tunnels and all my senses seem to pop. You want it, asshole? I am going to give you the answer you are looking for. "Yes," I force out the word. "Yes, I will."
"Good."
He straightens, steps back to stand next to me.
"Uh, do we have rings?" The priest blink rapidly.
Michael turns to me. "Her bouquet." He frowns. "Someone take the blasted thing from her."
Sebastian walks over, holds out his hand. When I don’t move, he whispers in a soft voice, "Please,principessa,hand it over."
I glare up into his blue eyes. So similar to the alphahole standing next to me, yet so much warmer.
"Principessa," he urges me and I extend the bouquet. He takes it, steps aside.
Michael grips my shoulder, applies enough pressure so I turn to face him. He slips a ring from his pocket and slides it over my left hand. A plain gold band, with a black diamond set in the center, surrounded by red sapphires. Huh. It fits… Of course, it does…
But the colors of the diamonds... They match my dress. How the hell had he guessed what colors I was going to wear? Of course, he may have seen me stitch the black dress on the closed-circuit cameras, but I’d only dyed my hair red this morning. How strange.
I glance up, in time to intercept an expression of… Possessiveness? Lust? A strange look filled with heat that he wipes off of his face instantly. I blink, captured by what I’d seen there for a second. Naked want… A yearning that struck me to my core. My pussy clenches and my fingers tremble as the priest asks, "What about the ring for the bridegroom?"
"Not for this bridegroom," Michael retorts.
I jerk my chin up, hold his once-more vacant gaze.
The priest clears his throat, "This...this is...ah...highly irregular, Capo."
No kidding. Like, of all the things that have happened so far, this particular aspect is the most shocking.A chuckle bubbles up and I stifle it.
Of course, the alphahole doesn't want to be constrained by a ring. While me... The bride must wear his mark of ownership at all times. Typical.
"Ah," the priest shuffles his feet, "in that case...you may now kiss the bride."
Michael steps forward. He notches a finger under my chin, angles it up as he lowers his face to mine. Closer, closer, the scent of him envelops me and a cloud of heat spools off of his body and crashes into me. I gasp, draw in a breath and the scent of him seems to infiltrate every cell in my body. His lips brush mine once. It’s so soft, so unexpected, that I part my lips and he sweeps his tongue inside. He swipes his tongue across the seam of my lips, across my teeth, tangles with mine. His mouth closes over mine and he slurps from me like he’s thirsty and I am his only sustenance. A moan bleeds from me and an answering groan rumbles up his chest. I step into him so my breasts are crushed into his chest. His entire body hardens, then a trembling grips him. He wraps his arm around my waist haul me to him as I slide my hand around his waist.
My fingers brush the dagger he wears at his waistband. I play with the sheath, then close my fingers around the handle of the knife. I draw it out as he winds his arm around my shoulder, the other slipping down over the curve of my hip. "Beauty," he breathes against my lips, "you’re killing me—" He gasps. His eyelids snap open, his mouth parted slightly. He stares into my gaze. "You…you…" he growls, "you—"
I nod, "I stabbed you, and I am going to do it again." I pull back and he releases me. I raise the dagger, and this time, bring it down squarely in the middle of his chest.
