Thirteen Years of Obsession

The night is young

The morning of my wedding felt like stepping onto the gallows in designer silk.

I stood frozen in front of the full-length mirror inside Lucian’s master bedroom, staring at the stranger wearing my face. The white gown clung to every curve like a second skin — the deep V plunging between my breasts, the high slit running all the way up my left thigh. My hair was pinned in an elegant updo, makeup flawless and expensive. Diamonds glittered at my throat and ears, heavy and cold.

I looked like a billion-dollar trophy.

I looked completely owned.

A soft knock. A staff member entered carrying another velvet box. “Mr. Voss insists you wear these for the photos.”

Inside lay a matching diamond bracelet. I wanted to smash it. Instead, I let her fasten it around my wrist like another shackle.

The ride to the rooftop venue was torture.

Lucian sat beside me in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that made him look like sin wrapped in money. His large hand rested possessively on my bare thigh, fingers stroking slow, deliberate circles over the exposed skin through the slit. Every touch sent electric jolts straight to my core, reminding me of last night — his fingers buried between my legs, his filthy promises, the way he’d licked my wetness from his own skin.

“You’re trembling, Mrs. Voss,” he murmured, voice low and dark. His thumb pressed harder, inching higher. “Is it fear… or are you already wet thinking about tonight?”

I turned my head, glaring even as heat flooded my face. “Both. And stop calling me that. The ink on the contract isn’t even dry yet.”

His lips curved into that cold, predatory smile. He leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “It’s dry enough. Tonight I’m going to spread these pretty thighs and f**k you so deep you’ll feel me for days. You’ll scream my name until your voice breaks.”

My core clenched hard. Fresh slickness soaked my lace panties. I hated how easily my body betrayed me.

The car stopped.

The rooftop garden was pure spectacle — white roses everywhere, crystal chandeliers, cameras flashing from every direction. Elite guests and paparazzi filled the space. This wasn’t a wedding. It was a public claiming.

Lucian stepped out first, then offered his hand. When I took it, he pulled me flush against his side, arm banded possessively around my waist as we walked down the aisle. His grip was iron. Everyone stared — some envious, some pitying.

Isabella stood near the front in a blood-red dress that screamed she belonged there more than I did. Her eyes burned with pure venom as they raked over me from head to toe. When Lucian glanced her way, she flashed a sweet smile. The second his attention returned to me, her expression turned murderous.

The ceremony passed in a blur of words I barely heard. My heart thundered when Lucian slid the massive diamond ring onto my finger — a stone so large it felt like a brand of ownership.

“I do,” he said, voice steady and commanding, gray eyes locked on mine with terrifying obsession.

Then it was my turn.

I hesitated.

Lucian’s fingers dug into my waist in silent warning. His eyes promised brutal consequences if I dared say anything but yes.

“I do,” I whispered, the words tasting like poison and chains.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Lucian didn’t hesitate. He cupped my face with both hands and crushed his mouth to mine in a deep, dominating kiss right there in front of the entire crowd. His tongue swept in, claiming me completely. One hand slid down to grip my ass possessively through the silk, pulling me hard against the thick bulge in his pants.

Cameras flashed wildly. The guests cheered.

When he finally pulled back, my lips were swollen and tingling. He leaned close, lips brushing my ear as he whispered hotly:

“Tonight, wife, I’m going to rip this dress off you and bury my c**k so deep inside your tight little p***y you’ll forget every man who existed before me.”

My knees nearly buckled. I was dripping wet, aching, furious at myself for wanting it.

The reception was a haze of forced smiles, toasts, and endless photos. Lucian kept me glued to his side, his hand never leaving my body — on my waist, my lower back, sliding under the table to stroke my thigh higher and higher. Every touch was a promise. Every glance was pure possession.

Isabella approached during the first dance, champagne in hand. She smiled at Lucian like they shared dirty secrets. “Congratulations, darling. She looks terrified. Still training your new pet?”

Lucian’s arm tightened around me like a steel band. “She’s not a pet, Isabella. She’s my wife. Speak to her again without my permission and I’ll make sure you lose every contract you have with Voss International.”

Isabella’s smile faltered, but the hatred in her eyes when she looked at me burned hotter than before.

Later, while cutting the cake, Lucian fed me a piece, his thumb lingering on my lower lip. When I instinctively licked it, his eyes darkened dangerously.

“Keep doing that,” he growled softly, only for me, “and I’ll drag you into the nearest private room and f**k that pretty mouth before the night ends.”

Heat flooded my entire body.

The night finally dragged to an end.

Lucian led me to the private elevator that would take us back to the penthouse. The moment the doors closed, he spun me around and slammed me against the mirrored wall.

His powerful body caged me in. His hand shoved the high slit of my dress aside and pushed my soaked panties to the side. Two thick fingers stroked through my dripping folds, circling my swollen c**t with perfect, ruthless pressure.

“Look how f*****g wet you are for me on our wedding night,” he growled, eyes blazing with dark lust. “Such a greedy little wife already.”

I gasped, hips jerking against his hand. “Lucian—”

“Beg me,” he ordered, voice rough as he pushed one finger inside me, then two, stretching me. “Beg your husband to take what’s his.”

The elevator dinged. We had reached the penthouse floor.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving me empty and throbbing, then brought them to his lips and sucked them clean while staring straight into my eyes.

“Inside,” he commanded, voice thick with barely leashed hunger. “Now.”

I stepped into the penthouse on shaky legs, body burning, mind spinning with fear and dark desire.

Lucian closed the heavy door behind us and locked it with a soft, final click.

He turned to me, eyes storming with obsession.

“Take off the dress, Seraphina. Slowly. I’ve waited thirteen f*****g years to see my wife naked on our wedding night.”

Thirteen years.

The words hit me like ice water.

I froze, staring at him.

Lucian’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Tick tock, little wife. The night is young… and I’m done waiting.”