Elena stood in the dimly lit bedroom, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she held up the heavy satin wedding dress. "Put it on, darling," she purred, her voice laced with command. Marcus laughed nervously, backing away. "You're joking, right? That's not my style." She stepped closer, the fabric rustling like a threat. "Oh, but it will be. You've been teasing me about my fantasies long enough." Their banter sparked with wit—her sharp retorts meeting his playful deflections—until tension thickened the air. He resisted, pushing the dress away, but her hand cracked across his cheek, then again, the slaps echoing as tears welled in his eyes. "Fine," he whispered, voice breaking, the dress finally slipping over his frame, heavy and confining. She tied him with silk bows at wrists and ankles, the knots firm yet elegant, then applied makeup with expert strokes—rouge on his cheeks, lipstick on trembling lips. The transformation stirred something raw between them. "You look stunning," she said, voice husky. "Now, let's see how that cock feels under all this lace." Their dialogue turned electric, her teasing him about his hardness while he retorted with witty jabs about her dripping pussy. Clothes shed, she straddled him, guiding his hard cock into her wet heat. He thrust up, panting, as she rode him, ass grinding, the bows straining. "Harder," she demanded, strong and unyielding. Sweat slicked their bodies; he came first, cum pulsing deep, but she followed, pussy clenching, both horny and spent. The chapter closed on their shared panting, yet Elena's whisper hinted at more games ahead. "This is only the beginning of our vows."
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