He turned to look at his bride, and his heart stopped. She was the gift. All his. Soleil looked so beautiful he hurt just looking at her. His lungs squeezed down, burning for air. That dress fit her curves like a glove, the peekaboo material showing that soft, silky skin to perfection.
The slit up the front was almost all the way to her mound, the material barely showing beneath the chiffon skirt, but it did peek out as she walked toward him. The bodice was a halter top with two thick strips of material covering her tits. The slash was all the way to her waist, and one side was made of the peekaboo diamond pattern. She not only looked beautiful, she looked sexy as well.
She handed her bouquet to Alena and took his hand to stand in front of the strange little man who had the biggest beard and mustache Ice had ever seen. That didn’t matter. What did matter was looking into Soleil’s eyes to give her courage, holding her hand tightly because she was trembling so hard, he was afraid she might fall.
“Keep looking at me, princess.” Ice whispered the command when her gaze strayed to the preacher, who was reading some crap that didn’t matter. He wanted the questions asked and the answers made, not something this little man with his squinty eyes and wild beard that needed a trim said to them.
Her gaze jumped back to his. He faced her squarely and took both hands when the little man asked the burning question. Did Isaak “Ice” Koval take Soleil Brodeur as his wife? Hell fucking yeah, he took her as his wife. For better or worse. Sickness and in health until death parted them.
She frowned up at him, wondering, no doubt, how they had her last name. She’d never told him, but they had the papers to prove they’d taken out the license, thanks to Code. Everything would be properly filed by their preacher man.
Then the same question was asked of Soleil, and again, his full name was given. Isaak “Ice” Koval. Did she take him as her husband? The chapel went eerily silent as his entire club waited with him for her answer. Storm shifted closer. Alena did as well. He didn’t take his gaze from her, shamelessly mesmerizing her, willing her to say yes. God, he needed her to say yes.
She swallowed. Hard. Her eyes went liquid. His stomach dropped. His thumb slid back and forth over her hand in a small caress that he needed more for himself than for her.
Her voice was shaky, very low, but the room was so silent, there was no doubt that his brethren heard when she committed her life to his, when she took him for her husband. He couldn’t help the grin or the triumph bursting through him. He hadn’t had a lot of time, but he’d pulled off the most important seduction of his life, and she was just as bound by their code as he was—as they all were.
It came time for the ring and he pushed the one he’d made, drawn in hasty detail on paper and made into a continuous band, onto her finger. He’d done it while she was getting ready. He’d told Alena to take her time. Then he’d had Transporter laminate the thing, so it would stand up in the shower, until he had time to make her the real thing. He pushed the band onto her finger, and his heart jerked hard in his chest just seeing it there.
She looked down at it, gave him a smile and he swore she had tears in her eyes.
“We’ll have matching ones, baby. You aren’t alone.” He wore rings, but they were generally on his fingers for other purposes. He’d wear his wedding ring right along with the other ones that fucked people up when he needed them to.
The preacher pronounced them man and wife, and Ice stepped close, took her into his arms and kissed her as lovingly and as tenderly as he possibly could. A loud cheer went up, nearly shaking the small building.
She turned her mouth up to his and once again gave him everything. She surrendered completely to him, her lips soft and pliant, taking everything he offered, drowning him in fire. It didn’t smolder in his belly; it was a raging inferno, starting in that soft, sweet mouth and continuing through his body like a firestorm out of control.
It took a few minutes to remember where they were and that an outsider was watching. He turned his woman away from the preacher and toward his brethren. Instantly, another roar went up. He glanced at Savage and brushed his finger across his watch.
Savage held up three fingers on one hand and his pinkie on the other. Three and a half hours, that’s all he’d have with his woman, cementing their relationship, making certain it was legal and she couldn’t renege in the morning when she woke up, fully realized what she’d done and went into full-blown panic.