Christopher did not wait.
There was no warning, no breath between orgasms, no moment of rest for his dripping, trembling bride.
He grabbed her by the throat and dragged her through the suite like she was nothing more than his favorite toy…used, leaking, and desperate for more.
Vivian stumbled after him, legs barely holding her up. Her p***y was still gaping, fluttering from being used and filled twice already, juices trickling down her inner thighs, staining the expensive floor with every step.
Her veil dragged behind her. Her hair clung to her sweaty back. Her body was marked..bitten, red, raw, owned.
She looked f****d.
Because she was.
And he was about to do it again.
Harder.
Meaner.
Fucking legendary.
He slammed her against the cake table.
The towering wedding cake tremble
