I counted my small blessings that our families didn’t authorize the removal of my garter with Tristian’s head in between my thighs, calling it tacky and unnecessary. Instead, I handed it to him with a satisfied expression, knowing he wasn’t exactly thrilled he wouldn’t have the opportunity to touch me in that way yet.
He grabbed the blue garter out of my hand, but at the last second he dragged me with it.
He whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, kitten. My face will be buried in between your legs soon enough.”
I swallowed hard and pulled away from him.
Except, he only tugged me back against his solid chest, adding, “The next time you deny me, I’ll fuck my come so deep inside your pussy, it’ll be dripping out of you for days. Just so you know who you belong to.”
He let me go with a growl, pissed I won this round.
I relished in my victory for as long as I could, but in the blink of an eye, we were in a private elevator on our way up to the honeymoon suite, which was in the hotel where our reception had been held. It didn’t take long for the metal doors to slide open, revealing the biggest, most lavish room I’d ever seen. The space was enormous, covered in daises. There wasn’t an area that wasn’t covered with vases upon vases of them, including petals on the bed.
“I had them add the daises for you, kitten.”
I couldn’t believe he’d remembered they were my absolute favorite flower. I walked into the penthouse, knowing Tristian was stepping into the suite behind me. Every time I heard him take a step, it mimicked my pounding heart. Finding refuge in the bourbon that was on the liquor bar, I popped it open and chugged down shot after shot. The whiskey burned my lungs, making me feel numb. Exactly how I wanted to feel.
Tristian’s commanding presence instantly echoed off the walls. “That’s enough, Belle.”
I didn’t listen until he ripped the bottle out of my hands.
“I said you’ve had enough.”
“Oh, sir,” I mocked, feeling feisty. “You’re acting more like my daddy than my husband.”
Taking a swig of the bottle, he grinned. “Well then, I’d love nothing more than to take you over my knee and spank your ass.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Never say never, kitten.”
I teased, “Do you want me to be your bad girl, Tristian?” and immediately regretted my words.
“Not as much as I want you to be my good girl.”
Somewhere in the last few minutes, he must have taken off his tuxedo jacket. It was hanging over the back of the couch. His tie hung loosely around his neck while the top buttons of his shirt were undone too. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, radiating so much power and authority, I found myself sucking in a breath.
Fuck … how much did I drink?
My thighs clenched with my mouth suddenly dry.
Arching an eyebrow, he baited, “Like what you see, kitten?”
“Not as much as you do.”
“I’d like to see less of what you’re wearing. How about you be my good girl and show me what’s underneath all that lace?”
The greedy expression on his face had my heart racing.
“Are you just going to stand there and be all you?”
He deviously grinned. “I’ve been called worse things.”
“More than likely by me.”
He scoffed out a chuckle while his fingers moved to his mouth. Back and forth his thumb rubbed along his bottom lip with nothing but intrigue written all over his face. Studying my stance, his turned predatory, and I found it almost hard to breathe.
“Stop looking at me like that.”