Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
You turn in the mirror and spin around, trying to get every angle.
Suddenly, the door opens.
Your female friends and family hurry in and flood the room, giving you the biggest surprise of your life.
Once again your mind is blown.
They explain that Kazimir had all of the most important people in your life flown out to Crete to attend your wedding.
Six servants carry in breakfast platters of fresh fruit and warm pastries. Others bring in bottles of champagne. Happy laughter mingles with glasses clinking and the swishing of fabric.
Once you pick the perfect gown, veil, and shoes, a makeup artist and hair stylist arrive.
Another maid appears with a huge box covered in huge bows.
She whispers in your ear, “The Lion wants you to wear this under your gown.”
You don’t open it, knowing that it will be sexy expensive lingerie.
Your family and friends leave you to your servants.
Now alone, they pamper you to no end.
They take you to a large bathtub filled with bubbles and petals floating on warm water. The bath soothes your aching muscles. One woman washes you, while another rubs perfumed soap into your skin.
When the bath is over, they help you rise.
Thick, soft towels brush against your skin. They wrap you in an elegant new robe and lead you back into the suite.
There, they help you dress to the point where you barely have to use your hands. Then, both the make-up artist and stylist get to work, while you take small sips of champagne.
You feel like a million bucks.
An hour later, your new guards guide you out of the back of the castle and towards the cliff.
The sound of an orchestra greets you first. It seems to be coming from every direction. The deep, rich music sounds like it has been woven into the very fabric of this romantic castle. The harmony cuts through the tangible feelings of lonesomeness, despair, and fear and lessens them ever so slightly. You know that anytime you hear these notes, you will think of this amazing, enchanting day.
You follow the direction of the music toward its source—a massive tent next to the cliff. And you know that your soon-to-be husband is inside of there waiting for you.
You take slow steps. Your gown sweeps around you.
The music grows louder and louder, luring you toward the sea of standing people.
They all watch you. Many of the guests, you recognize. Others are scarred and tattooed, telling you that they belong to Kazimir’s side.
You take in your wedding.
The area leading up to the altar is decorated in iridescent silks and satins, bushels of white roses glimmer and crystal chandeliers twinkle. Birds chirp in ivory cages.
You walk past the breathtaking space and head to Kazimir—your future husband.
You can feel the weight of everyone’s stares, but you hold your head high and keep your elegant pace.
Then, you get a better view of Kazimir.
Usually, your lion looks like personified violence. Today, he resembles an exotic knight in shining armor. The designer tuxedo clings to his muscular chest and broad shoulders like a second skin. He turns your way. His jaw twitches. His eyes blaze with love and happiness.
And you walk forward feeling like you are taking steps on a cloud made of silk and lace.
When you make it to the altar, he pulls you into his arms.
“You are so gorgeous and all mine.” He runs his hands down your back and then grips your ass tightly. “Now the world will know.”
Some in the audience chuckle.
The pastor has no choice but to carry out the ceremony with you in Kazimir’s arms.
The Lion has no plans to let you go.
So close to Kazimir, you barely pay attention. His scent surrounds you, and all you can think about is how good his cock will feel inside of you after the wedding.
You can feel the hardening bulge in his pants pressing into your stomach.
The pastor drones on and on.
Kazimir whispers in your ear, “Our wedding night can’t come soon enough.”
A rush of heat washes through you.
Finally, the pastor says, “. . .I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
“Finally!” Kazimir pulls you in close and caresses your face with the back of his hand. He presses his lips against yours and kisses you deeply. You taste vodka on his tongue, telling you his buddies and him were celebrating earlier.
The audience claps.
Kazimir lifts you into his arms and carries you down the aisle.
You explain that there are other parts of the ceremony like taking pictures and the reception.
“I want you now, Novoluniye.” His gaze sparkles, and his smile is that of a man who knows he’s about to have his way with you.
He carries you into the castle, past his smirking men.
So fast and deranged by lust, he has you up the stairs in barely a minute and in the master suite in even less time.