CHAPTER 2 — THE LIMO & THE THREAT
522 Words
The church doors slam behind us and the noise of two hundred scandalized socialites gets cut off like a guillotine.
Adrian doesn’t walk me to the limo. He herds me, one hand splayed possessive on my lower back, the other already texting. Probably telling his men to start buying Damian’s stocks out from under him.
The second the door shuts, he hits the privacy divider. Then he’s on me.
Not kissing. Not yet. He just slams me back against the door, forearm across my collarbone, wedding dress hiked to my thighs. His eyes drag down my body like he’s deciding where to bite first.
“You just declared war in front of every bastard with a bank account, princess,” he says. His voice is gravel and whiskey. “So tell me now: are you sure you want to start one with me?”
I laugh, and it sounds unhinged. Good. I am unhinged. Dying does that to a girl.
“I’m not starting a war, Adrian.” I grab his tie and yank him closer until our mouths are a breath apart. “I’m ending one. And I want to use your hands to do it.”
His nostrils flare. “My hands do a lot of things. Break bones. Sign death warrants.” His thumb drags my lower lip down, possessive. “Make pretty liars come so hard they forget their own name. Which one are you asking for?”
“All of them,” I hiss. “But first, I want him to hear it.”
Adrian’s smirk turns lethal. He pulls out his phone, hits a contact, and puts it on speaker.
Damian picks up on the second ring. “You f*****g dead man, if you touch her—”
“Too late,” Adrian cuts in, eyes never leaving mine. He drops to his knees on the limo floor. My veil’s still in my hair for f**k’s sake. “She walked to me, Locke. She chose the monster.”
I thread my fingers in Adrian’s hair and tug, hard. “Tell Celeste I hope she liked her toast,” I say to the phone. “Because I’m about to be the one moaning your name, and it won’t be a prayer.”
Adrian bites my inner thigh through the lace of my wedding dress, and I barely swallow the gasp. His tongue is hot, deliberate. A promise.
“Vivienne, don’t you f*****g dare—” Damian starts.
Adrian ends the call and tosses the phone. Then he looks up at me, mouth wet, eyes black with ruin.
“Last chance to run,” he says, teeth grazing my skin. “After I make you come in this dress, you’re mine. And I don’t share my weapons, princess.”
I kick my heel off and dig my bare foot into his shoulder, pushing him right where I want him.
“Then stop talking and use your f*****g mouth,” I tell him. “We’ve got a body count to start.”
His growl fills the limo as he shoves my dress to my waist.
This time, I burn.
- Writer
