Chapter 4

The reception was a spectacle of obscene wealth. Crystal chandeliers dripped with diamonds, tables groaned under towers of white roses and gold accents, and a live orchestra played softly beneath the domed ceiling of the exclusive ballroom. Champagne flowed like water, and the elite of the city mingled, laughing, networking, and pretending they weren't there to witness the shiny new trophy wife on Silas Voss's arm.

Liora sat beside her husband at the head table, smiling politely as guest after guest offered congratulations. Silas's hand rested on hers-cold and formal. He hadn't looked at her with real heat once all evening.

Then the announcement came.

"And now, the best man will share a dance with the bride."

Kael Draven rose from his seat like a predator unfolding. The room seemed to quiet as he approached, all 6'4" of raw power wrapped in tailored black. His silver-gray eyes locked onto Liora with laser focus, and her pulse skyrocketed.

He extended his large, tattooed hand.

"Mrs. Voss," he said, voice low and smooth, a hint of mockery curling around her new title. "May I?"

Liora's fingers trembled as she placed her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, electricity shot straight between her legs. Silas gave a dismissive nod, already turning to speak with a business associate.

Kael led her onto the dance floor.

The orchestra shifted into a slow, sensual waltz. He pulled her close-closer than appropriate-his big hand settling possessively on the small of her back, fingers splayed wide. The heat of his palm burned through the thin silk of her gown. His other hand engulfed hers, thumb stroking slowly over her wedding ring as if the sight of it offended him.

"You look fucking sinful in white," Kael murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear as they turned. His voice was velvet and gravel, meant only for her. "Like a virgin sacrifice laid out for slaughter."

Liora's breath hitched. She tried to keep her face neutral for the watching crowd, but her body betrayed her. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks against her gown.

"Kael..." she whispered, a weak warning.

He chuckled darkly, pulling her even tighter until her full breasts brushed his hard chest. His hand slid lower, dangerously close to the curve of her ass.

"I've been watching you all day, Liora. That pretty blush. The way your thighs squeeze together every time our eyes meet." His breath was hot against her neck. "Tell me... is that tight little virgin cunt wet right now? Soaking through your expensive bridal panties because your husband doesn't know how to make it drip?"

A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her throat. She prayed no one else heard it.

Kael spun her slowly, then drew her back in, his muscular thigh pressing briefly between hers. The friction made her dizzy.

"He'll never satisfy you," he continued, voice dropping even lower, filthy and certain. "Silas fucks like a machine-cold, mechanical, and quick. You need to be ruined, baby. Pinned down and fucked so deep you forget your own name. Filled until you're leaking cum for days."

Liora's knees weakened. She gripped his shoulder tighter, feeling the solid muscle beneath his tuxedo. His hand flexed on her back, nails digging in just enough to claim.

"Every man here wants to stare at your tits and ass," Kael growled softly. "But only I'm going to be the one who owns them. Only I'm going to stretch that sweet pussy open and breed it until your belly swells with my child."

Her core clenched hard at his words. Fresh wetness slicked her thighs.

The song began to wind down. Kael pulled back just enough to look into her wide, dazed hazel eyes. His silver gaze was dark with raw hunger.

"Enjoy your wedding night, Mrs. Voss," he whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting in a cruel smirk. "But we both know whose name you'll be moaning before the sun rises."

He released her slowly, his fingers trailing over her hip in one last possessive stroke. Then he walked away, leaving Liora standing on the dance floor-breathless, aching, and dangerously close to ruining her perfect bridal facade.

Silas approached to reclaim her, oblivious.

But Liora's body was already burning for the wrong man.

Chapter 5

The reception stretched late into the night, growing louder and more chaotic as bottles of vintage champagne and aged whiskey disappeared. Liora sat beside her husband, her body still buzzing from Kael's filthy whispers on the dance floor. Every time she shifted in her seat, she felt the lingering dampness between her thighs.

Silas, however, was drinking heavily.

What started as calculated toasts quickly spiraled. He laughed too loud at his own jokes, his usually sharp blue eyes glazing over. By the time the final guests were saying their goodbyes, Silas could barely stand straight.

"Come on, Mrs. Voss," he slurred, grabbing her arm a little too roughly as they were ushered toward the private elevator that led to the honeymoon suite. "Time to consummate this... alliance."

Liora's heart raced with nervous excitement as they entered the lavish presidential suite. The room was a fantasy of romance-rose petals scattered across the massive king bed, soft golden lighting, a bottle of chilled champagne waiting beside two crystal flutes. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the glittering city below.

While Silas disappeared into the bathroom, Liora slipped into the dressing room. With trembling fingers, she removed her wedding gown, letting it pool at her feet like spilled cream. Beneath it, she wore the sheer white lingerie she had chosen specifically for tonight-delicate lace that barely covered her full breasts, a tiny thong that disappeared between her round ass cheeks, and a matching garter belt.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Porcelain skin flushed pink. Nipples visibly hard against the transparent lace. Her long dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. She looked like pure temptation.

Tonight, she told herself again, biting her lip. Tonight he'll finally touch me.

When she stepped back into the bedroom, Silas was already on the bed, shirt half-unbuttoned, tie loosened. He looked up at her, his gaze sliding over her barely-covered body with mild appreciation.

"Not bad," he muttered. "You clean up well."

He reached for her clumsily, pulling her onto the bed. His kiss was sloppy and whiskey-sour. His hands pawed at her breasts for a few seconds-mechanical, almost bored-before he suddenly groaned and collapsed back onto the pillows.

"Silas?" Liora whispered, hovering over him.

A loud snore answered her.

He was out cold. Blackout drunk.

Liora sat there in stunned silence, her body aching with unfulfilled need. Her pussy throbbed painfully, desperate for touch, for friction, for anything. She was soaking wet, her tiny thong ruined, her thighs sticky with arousal that had been building since Kael's dirty words on the dance floor.

She gently shook his shoulder. "Silas... please..."

Nothing.

Humiliation burned through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she curled up beside him in her expensive, seductive lingerie-designed to be ripped off, not ignored. The man who had just married her lay snoring on his back, fully dressed, while his virgin bride trembled with two years of pent-up sexual frustration.

Liora pressed her thighs together tightly, trying to ease the deep, empty ache. Her hand drifted down her stomach, hovering just above her aching core, but she stopped herself.

Not like this, she thought bitterly. Not on my wedding night.

She slipped out of bed and walked barefoot to the large balcony doors. The cool night air kissed her heated skin as she stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself. The city lights sparkled far below, indifferent to her disappointment.

Her nipples tightened painfully against the lace. Her clit pulsed with every heartbeat.

She was married.

She was rich.

She was still untouched.

And more desperately horny than she had ever been in her life.

Liora didn't know that her salvation-and her complete ruin-was already watching her from the shadows of the balcony.

Chapter 6

The night air was cool against Liora’s overheated skin as she stood on the expansive balcony of the honeymoon suite. The city sprawled beneath her like a sea of diamonds, but she couldn’t appreciate its beauty. All she felt was the deep, throbbing ache between her legs and the humiliating sting of rejection.

She gripped the stone railing, her sheer white lingerie offering no protection from the breeze—or from the desperate need still pulsing through her body. Her full breasts rose and fell rapidly, nipples stiff and visible through the delicate lace. She squeezed her thighs together again, but it only made the emptiness worse.

A low, masculine voice cut through the silence behind her.

“Poor little bride.”

Liora gasped and spun around.

Kael Draven leaned against the balcony doorframe, hands in his pockets, looking every inch the devil in a half-unbuttoned black dress shirt. The moonlight highlighted the sharp lines of his face and the dangerous gleam in his silver-gray eyes. His tattoos were partially visible where his shirt opened at the collar, dark ink curling over powerful muscle.

“How did you—?” she whispered, heart hammering.

“I have my ways.” He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew his prey was already cornered. “Saw your husband being carried into the suite like a pathetic sack of shit. Figured you might be out here… unsatisfied.”

Liora’s cheeks burned with shame. She crossed her arms over her chest, but it only pushed her breasts together, drawing his hungry gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here, Kael. This is my wedding night.”

“Is it?” He stopped just inches away, towering over her. The heat radiating from his massive body made her dizzy. “Because from where I’m standing, your husband is passed out cold while his virgin wife is dripping and desperate on the balcony.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Kael’s hand rose, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face with surprising gentleness before his fingers trailed down to grip her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“I know everything about you, Liora,” he said, voice low and rough. “I’ve been watching you since the engagement party. The way you smiled politely at all those rich pricks. The way your thighs pressed together when I looked at you too long. The way you bit your lip when Silas kissed your cheek like a fucking brother instead of a man who owns you.”

His thumb stroked her lower lip, eyes darkening.

“I knew right then you were mine. That tight little body was made to be fucked hard and bred full. Not paraded around like a trophy by a man who can’t even get it up on his wedding night.”

Liora trembled. Her pussy clenched hard at his crude words, a fresh rush of wetness soaking the tiny lace thong.

“This is wrong,” she breathed, even as she leaned slightly into his touch. “I’m married now.”

“To the wrong man.” Kael stepped closer until her back pressed against the cool railing. His muscular thigh nudged between hers, and she whimpered at the contact. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me since that dance. Tell me your cunt isn’t soaked right now because of what I whispered to you.”

She couldn’t lie. Not when her body was screaming the truth.

Kael leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I’ve jerked off thinking about ruining you every single night since the engagement party. Imagining how tight you’d feel wrapped around my cock. How sweetly you’d cry when I stretch this neglected pussy open for the first time. How you’d beg me to fill you with my cum.”

A broken moan escaped her throat.

He pulled back just enough to stare into her wide, hazy hazel eyes.

“I’m done waiting, Liora. Tonight, I’m going to give you what your husband never could.”

His big hand slid down her body, hovering just above the waistband of her lingerie, waiting for her to stop him.

She didn’t.