–Damon–
When Laura told me she wanted her sister to marry me—because she thought it would benefit their family—I didn't care. Use me, manipulate me, bleed me dry. As long as it's Livana, I'll gladly play the pawn.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew. She's mine.
The gown. The venue. Every last detail—I had it ready. I dropped nearly an eighth of a billion on this flash wedding without blinking. We were both engaged to people we didn't want. My fiancée kept playing house like her life depended on it. I didn't even notice when she cried. I'd already decided. Livana is the only woman I'll ever see.
I picked up the silver bikini I'd been fantasizing about—seeing her wear it, feeling it cling to her curves. I placed it in her hand. She's blind, so I had to guide her fingers to it myself.
"Let's go swim," I said.
"Nope." She tossed it aside.
Cute. But I don't lose. Not with her. This is our honeymoon—the one I dreamed of, the one I bled for.
I crossed the room, retrieved the bikini, then scooped her up effortlessly and dropped her onto the bed. She let out a small groan and sat up fast, clearly annoyed.
Her hand slapped across my cheek—sharp, stinging.
God, I loved it.
I caught her wrist and brought it to my lips, kissing the very hand that tried to push me away. "Either you wear this," I growled, my voice low and deliberate, "or we stay in this room and fuck like animals."
She gritted her teeth. That defiance only made her more irresistible.
She shoved me away when I tried to help her undress. "Fine. I'll wear it. But you're not screwing me tonight. Not happening."
I laughed, dark and quiet. "I can't make any promises."
She peeled off her panties under her dress—always so defiant, even in surrender—and slipped the bikini on. She'd never undressed in front of me before. I was always the one taking her clothes off, piece by piece.
"Livy!"
Kai's voice. I groaned, clenching my jaw.
"Damon! Just come out for a sec!"
I stormed to the door, yanked it open, and make sure that he wouldn't see an inch of my wife before slamming it shut behind me.
"What?" I snapped.
"Uh, yeah… there are men lingering around the island. A chopper's been circling too. You and Livana shouldn't leave the villa. Just stay in until nightfall."
"Fuck."
So much for seeing her in that bikini under the sun.
No matter. I'll see it tonight—under moonlight, under me.
"Handle it," I said coldly and walked back in.
Livana was adjusting her dress. I approached and wrapped my hands around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine.
"I'm sorry, wife," I whispered into her neck. "We won't get to swim today. But tonight… the moon is full."
"I can't see," she replied flatly. "I'm blind, remember?"
"Right," I muttered. "I keep forgetting."
I sat on the bed and pulled her into my lap, her back against my chest. My hand slid to hers, guiding her fingers over the rarest ring she would ever wear.
The Wittelsbach-Graff—31.06 carats. $80 million. I had people track it down. I outbid every bastard at that auction just to see it on her.
"You want to know what kind of ring you're wearing?" I murmured, lips brushing her shoulder.
"It's heavy," she said, lifting her hand as if to remove it.
"It should be," I replied. "It's 31.06 carats."
She froze.
"Who the fuck wears something like this in public?"
"You won't be in public much," I said, nuzzling into her skin. "Not unless you want to. And if you do, you'll have guards."
"In other words, I'm your prisoner?"
I smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."
And I wouldn't have it any other way. She smelled like temptation. Like possession. Like mine.
I couldn't help it. My Livana.
She struggled beneath me, her small fists pounding at my chest until she slapped me again—hard.
"I told you—we're not going to screw!" she hissed.
But I didn't stop. I covered her in kisses, rough and desperate, branding her porcelain skin with my lips until it felt like I might erase myself into her.
Her dress was barely clinging to her body. I peeled it off, slow, reverent. The silver bikini clung to her in all the ways I imagined—shimmering like liquid light on flawless skin.
She looked like a diamond. Mine.
"Let me see," I growled, pinning her wrist down against the mattress. "Let me see you like this, Livana."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. The swell of her breasts, the trembling in her breath… I bent down and kissed the delicate valley between them. Just rested there, my ear against her heartbeat—fast, frantic, like prey caught too late.
I was already painfully hard.
"Livana," I murmured, my voice ragged with hunger, "do you want me to go down there?"
"No," she snapped, "get the fuck off me."
But her body… her body didn't lie.
"Please," I begged against her skin, my voice dark and thick. "Just let me stay. Let me taste you. Let me make you scream my name."
Her mouth opened—whether to protest or moan, I don't even know.
But then—
"Sis!"
The door burst open.
Laura.
She froze in the doorway, eyes wide as she took us in.
"What in hell? I thought we were going out for a swim!"
I pushed myself up from Livana, breathing hard, sweat slicking my brow.
I glared at Laura through the gauzy white drapes of our four-poster bed, the image of her an unwelcome blur.
"Get out," I growled. "Leave. Now."
"Come on," she said, rolling her eyes, "let's just have fun in the indoor jacuzzi instead."
"Just leave," I barked, low and lethal. "And close the damn door behind you."
"Whatever, Damon!" she snapped. "Just finish it quickly."
The door slammed.
I turned back to Livana, still breathless beneath me.
"You were saying something, wife?" I whispered, my hands tracing her trembling thighs. "Because I'm not done hearing you."
She sighed—soft, resigned—and let her body sink into the bed.
Good girl.
That's right. She can just relax. She can trust me to take care of everything.
I climbed over her, my gaze devouring every inch of her. My goddess—smooth, flawless, untouched in all the ways that mattered to me.
I gently parted her thighs, reverent, as if unveiling something sacred. The silver bikini clung stubbornly to her, but I brushed it aside, my fingers trembling with hunger.
She was dry. Distant.
But that was alright. I could fix that. I would make her bloom for me.
I leaned down, my lips grazing the soft curve of her thigh before trailing inward, closer to where I needed her most. My tongue found her slowly, deliberately—mapping every edge, every ridge, every tremor of resistance.
She gasped. Her hips bucked instinctively, thrusting toward me.
That's it.
That's right, Livana.
Let go. Let me in.
I gripped her thighs tighter, holding her open as my mouth worked her with feverish devotion—lips and tongue worshipping her with relentless rhythm.
Every shiver, every sigh—every time her breath caught—I felt it like a fire in my blood.
"You taste like heaven, Livana," I murmured into her skin, breath ragged. "And you're mine."