Once I have it in place, Santiago takes me by the arm and leads me downstairs to join my groom. He looks more handsome than a man has a right to standing there in his black tux and matching crimson tie and pocket square. Something I’m assuming is also Solana’s doing.
At the bottom of the stairs, Santi reluctantly hands me over to Judge, and we all make our way out to the convoy of vehicles that will deliver us to the IVI compound. Judge helps me into our private car, his hand squeezing mine as we begin the journey. The privacy screen is up, and I’m grateful for it when Judge turns to me.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against my temple.
“You haven’t even seen my dress yet.” I smile in amusement.
“It doesn’t matter,” he answers seriously. “You always look beautiful. But never more so than you do with our babies inside you. When my ring is on your finger, and my mark is inked into your skin, I’ll never want to take my eyes off you.”
The possession that burns in his voice heats me from within, and I know the journey is short, but I can’t help myself. I unbuckle and crawl onto his lap, reaching for his zipper. His eyes flare with want, and he grunts his approval as I free his cock and lift the fabric of the dress and cloak around me. Within seconds, I’ve got him inside me again, and we’re going at it hot and heavy all the way to the church. We both come hard, Judge continuing to grind my body down onto his long after the last convulsion has rocked through him. And when his eyes meet mine, I know this is just the beginning. He isn’t even close to being done with me tonight.
“Now you’ll have my come dripping down your thighs as you join me at the altar.” He brushes his lips against my ear, kissing his way down my jaw, and I shiver.
“Mm-hmm.”
His hands continue to stroke my ass, even after the car comes to a stop, and we hear the commotion of everyone gathering outside. Someone knocks on the window, but we ignore them, Judge bringing my lips to his, kissing me like we have all the time in the world. I think we do too, until I hear another persistent knock, followed by Solana’s chagrined voice.
“You better not be messing up her hair, Lawson Montgomery!”
He chuckles, shaking his head, and I smile. After we right our clothing and he helps me out, Solana ensnares me with a disapproving look.
“Nice.” She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t realize freshly fucked chic was the look we were going for.”
I shrug. “As if you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“Who knows, maybe I will.” Her eyes scan the crowd before turning back to Judge. “Is your asshole brother here tonight?”
At her question, I stiffen, and Judge settles his hand on my lower back. He doesn’t answer her, but nods to the crowd filtering inside. “We better go in.”
I’m grateful for the interruption in that conversation, but I make a mental note to talk to Solana about Theron later. Again.
Judge guides me inside while Solana wanders back to the others, presumably to boss people around and make sure everything’s in order. And then all too soon, we are separated with little more than time for a kiss, taken to our own separate areas to get ready. Although there isn’t much for me to do than remove the cloak and visit with Ivy, Georgie, and Solana, who’s fussing over my hair that she insists I messed up during our pre-wedding romp.
I’m on a cloud, too happy to care about anything. I remain that way when Santi comes to get me, leading me to the large doors as we wait for the music to begin. A moment later, they open, and things happen, most of which I’m not fully aware of. For all I know, they could be playing heavy metal. Because all I see is the man waiting for me at the altar. My handsome, crazy, intense husband-to-be.
The journey to him feels too long, but somehow, I get there. Santi releases me, taking his place at Judge’s side, while Solana stands at mine. The priest opens with a prayer, and I stare into Judge’s eyes, bathing in the warm glow. Admittedly, a part of me worried he might still be nervous or uncertain. But right now, all I can see is determination and pride.
The ceremony is a traditionally Catholic one, like all Society weddings, although a condensed version, given that it’s already almost midnight. Even so, a whole host of our acquaintances, friends, and family are gathered for the occasion, along with the witnesses from IVI bearing their masks and cloaks.
If I’m being honest, I don’t hear half of what the priest says. Not until it’s time to say our vows and exchange rings. My ring is a stunning pavé diamond band with an eye-catching centerpiece to match the design of the necklace Judge gave me. It’s perfect in every way, and I feel proud to have his ring on my finger, but I’m even happier to see the white gold band on his.
With that rite complete, finally, after what feels like an eternity, the priest declares us husband and wife. Judge doesn’t wait for approval to sweep me into his arms and kiss me with a deep growl that I’m quite certain the entire church heard. But I don’t mind one bit, and I kiss him right back, far longer than what’s considered appropriate. It isn’t until my brother clears his throat that Judge seems to remember we have an audience.
“Save it for later, will you?” Santi mutters.
Judge releases my lips from his, but his warmth doesn’t fade as his eyes roam over me.
“I love you,” he says again, low enough for me to hear, a stolen moment of privacy while we’re surrounded by others.
“I love you too.” I smile up at him, my heart beating a crazy new song just for him. “So very much, Lawson Montgomery.”
The priest interrupts our exchange with instructions to greet those who have gathered here this evening. We do so together, hand in hand, Judge never releasing me as we accept congratulations from far too many people.
I don’t miss their curious glances, particularly at my very obvious pregnancy. I’m sure this news will have tongues wagging later, but they don’t dare say a word to Judge about it now. Of course, when we greet Giordana, Dulce, and Vivien, they don’t bother to hide their disdain. It doesn’t escape my notice that Vivien is wearing black as if she’s in mourning, her eyes moving over me sharply.
When she leans in for an air kiss and a frigid hug, her biting words penetrate my ear. “Well, I guess that’s one way to secure a husband.”
By the tightening of Judge’s hand on mine, it’s clear he’s heard the remark too, and he doesn’t miss a beat.
“You are mistaken, Vivien.” His eyes move over me with undiluted admiration. “It was me who needed to secure Mercedes’s hand. There’s no other woman who can compare.”
Vivien looks as if she’s been slapped by Judge’s remark, and it pleases me far more than it should when we leave her standing there, mouth agape as we walk away.
“I think I’ve had enough congratulations for the moment,” Judge says.
I nod in agreement as he leads me toward the door, pausing for a moment to look at me.
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”
He’s referring to the mark. The tattoo he will ink into my skin himself. We discussed it briefly, along with a phone call to an IVI doctor. It’s not exactly common to give the mark to pregnant wives, but it has been done before, and with the proper precautions and sterile equipment, we have the green light to proceed if we wish.