All Chapters of Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book Two : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Niko I can't help but study this version of Bianca as the man of the church stands in front of us, speaking nonsense. Not a word goes in because I'm not listening, not deeply enough to take in any of his chanting at face value. She stands beside me, unsure of herself yet more beautiful than I've ever seen her. Her makeup is barely there, just eyeliner and mascara drawing my attention to her eyes' deep, earthy hues. Her cheeks seem somewhat higher than usual, and her lips are pale pink, which complements the only evidence of a blush on the tip of her nose. The man before us drones on, and I grit my teeth, not caring to listen, as I watch Bianca breathe. Her chest rises and falls in rapid breaths, all while she looks at him unwaveringly. Until she doesn't, until her eyes swing to me, her face staying in the position of looking forward. In that brief moment, I see longing—the longing to escape, the need to be gone from here. I wish I could speed this up in an instant. Neithe

Bianca Niko holds onto me for dear life as we wander along the dimly lit hall and through the doors that lead us into a multitude of people gathered within the large hall, ready to greet us. I had presumed that this little ceremony would have been over as soon as I said I do, but I'm being treated more than the second daughter married off just because I can be. Faces blend into faces as he guides me to talk to the first set of people to our right. I note Dimitri upset in the corner, obviously disliking that we escaped almost as soon as his priest said we finished the ceremony. Yet the funny thing is we signed off on the dotted line last night, and I have no doubt those papers were fast-tracked to ensure our matrimony was official. Don Hendrix congratulates us with a warm smile, and his wife tells me how beautiful I am in this dress, which itches every part of my skin it is touching. Nothing really sinks in besides the blood swooshing in my ears because of my racing heart at th

Continued: "How about fuck off?" Niko spits angrily before turning us away and walking us to Dimitri. "We're out of here," he spits so lowly that his voice reverberates through my bones. "You should sort that out before I do." "Your wedding is not over," Dimitri warns quietly and calmly. "It's done when I say it's done. We've married, you have what you want. I won't stay here and allow him to verbally abuse my wife before all these people," Niko states, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together before he turns us away. Everyone parted, making room for us to leave. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, knowing everyone had heard exactly what Franko said. It's obvious he's planted seedlings of doubt within the minds of every guest here. "Niko," I whimper, anxious to be gone already. Needing to find the protection only he seems to give me. "It's okay," he mumbles quietly, obviously trying to reassure me as I stumble to keep up with his quick steps. He leads me outsid

Continued: I press my thighs together at the sudden intrusive thoughts of needing Niko. "Keep staring at me like that, and we won't get as far as the bonnet of this fucking car," he tells me. A small smile now plays on his lips. Is he playing with me just for kicks? "I wasn't staring. I was listing out the things I hate about you," I lie, turning to stare at the plane waiting for us to board it. Now, a smile plays at my lips—a large smile because I know he knows I'm bluffing. "Is that so?" He questions humorously. He shifts beside me, but I avoid looking his way to see what he's doing. "Yup. Just tallying up the things I despise about my now husband so I can memorise each and every one." "You're something else, Bee." "Never claimed to be perfect like Emma," I shrug nonchalantly. "I wouldn't want you to be anything but yourself. They're ready. Come on?" He requests. Turning, I note he's outside of the car, holding his hand out for me that I take, unwillingly, of cou

Continued: She shakes her head slowly, her brain obviously refuting my proposal, yet she doesn't voice her reluctance, which means a part of her, no matter how small, wants me back, and I can work with that. Expand on it. "It's our wedding night—evening. I want you, Bee. I've wanted you all week." "No—," she squeaks. "What did I tell you about that word?" I ask gruffly. I drop her foot, placing it down on the floor. And I follow it, kneeling at her feet like a man possessed. "It's a dirty word," I grin. "One punishable by denial." "And what did I tell you?" She asks. "I'm your husband, Bee. I have needs. Needs that you haven't met." "They're not my responsibility..." she whines, yet there's playfulness in her eyes that I suddenly want to play against. "So when you want to get off, is your need not my responsibility?" I counter her. "No." "You sure about that? You sure you don't want me to help you along?" I ask, skating my fingers up the inside her thighs that are