“Tyrant, how long have we been in here? We’re getting married now.” “They can all wait.” Beneath her wedding dress, she’s wearing a white lace G-string and suspenders. “Holy fuck,” I murmur in a low voice, dragging my finger up the seam of her sex over the fabric. “We’re in church,” she moans again. “I said holy fuck, didn’t I? Put your hands against the wall.”
