The Last Shadow (Shadows and Strings #3)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Frankie

This is it. The most important day of my life, the day I merge my life with someone else.

I stand at the end of a short aisle inside an adorable chapel on a cliff in Malibu, because of course Damien’s assistant found the best venue in the city at the last minute. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as my gaze settles on Damien.

“You ready for this, kid?” Jay stands beside me, looking dapper in his tuxedo. “I hope so because I didn’t rent this for nothing.”

“I’m ready.” I’m more than ready to become Mrs. Wolfe. As we walk down the aisle, excitement and anxiety blend like butterflies in my belly. There he is , looking as handsome as ever. Damien is so elegant wearing a beautiful black and white tuxedo and the closer I get to him, the more I feel out of place, as if I’m an imposter at my own wedding.

His lips part, welcoming me, beckoning me closer.

My heart slams against my chest and with every step I take, it speeds up until it’s deafening. Damien takes my hand in his, offering a brief nod to Jay before all of his attention is on me. His hand sends a jolt of electricity straight to my chest and I can hardly breathe.

“You’re gorgeous, my pet,” he whispers in my ear before pulling back, gazing down at me lovingly.

“Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.” He looks incredible and he’s all mine. “Let’s get married, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.” His eyes brighten, a spark of excitement in them as he turns to the officiant with a commanding nod, signaling him to begin.

They say most women remember every moment of their wedding day, but the truth is I’m not sure of anything except the words Damien says directly to me. They are heartfelt and so passionate. I’m not sure a woman has ever been loved this thoroughly before.

“Francesca, from the moment we met I’ve been transfixed by you. By your beauty. By your strength.” His grip tightens on my hands. “My desire for you is unmatched by anything I’ve ever felt, and it isn’t just physical desire, it’s an all-consuming need that pulses through my veins. It’s the very essence of my being.”

A dream come true. His words hit just right, like a shot of whiskey warming me from the inside out, chasing away the last of my jitters.

“My solemn vow to you, Francesca, is that I will love you with a passion so intense, it’ll surpass everything else in this world,” Damien says, his voice getting a little rough. “When we’re together, nothing and no one else exists. I promise to be your confidant, your support, your partner, and even your shadow.” His nostrils flare, his jaw tightening for a moment before he continues. His intense gaze burns into mine, and the raw emotion in his voice sends shivers up my spine. “I vow to create a world where it’s just you and me, Francesca. A world where your heart pounds for me, and mine races for you. Where nothing else matters but the passion we share.”

My breath catches at the desire in his voice. My heart races, torn between wanting to give him everything and being overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. But this— this —is what I’ve craved. This kind of devotion. I’m his. Completely.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I let go of his hand to brush it away. Mascara and tears are never a good combo. And no, I’m not the kind of girl who thinks ahead with waterproof makeup.

“My love for you is powerful,” he continues. “Intense. And it demands that same love, that same loyalty in return.” He pauses, his fingers brushing mine. “I am yours, and you are mine, never to be shared with another. With every heartbeat, I choose you, Francesca. With every breath, I claim your soul. You are my lifeblood, my obsession, and I vow never to let anyone come between us. Not in this world, or whatever comes after it.”

He inhales deeply, releasing the breath slowly, his expression softening as he speaks.

“Wow, Damien.” My words come out barely above a whisper, too soft for the magnitude of what he’s just promised. Any doubts I had about belonging here vanish in the wake of his vows. Mine feel small in comparison, but as he holds my face and the officiant speaks, “You may now kiss your bride,” Damien brushes a soft kiss against my lips that feels like forever.

“My wife,” he growls, his voice low and possessive.

“My husband,” I reply.

He takes my hand and, turning toward the small gathering of friends and business associates, he raises our clasped hands in celebration. “Let’s celebrate.”

Neither of us has much family here, and Olivia couldn’t make it for obvious reasons, but this moment still feels complete. Like it’s exactly how it’s meant to be.

Damien pulls me back up the aisle, smiling at the well-wishers in attendance. This is my wedding, the happiest day of a woman’s life dammit, and I’m going to enjoy every minute.

“Keep it moving,” Amelia says as she pushes us the last few feet up the aisle. “You lovebirds have fifteen minutes before photos and then the reception.”

“Thank you.” I turn and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, wrap Amelia in a hug. “Thanks for being here for me today, Ames.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Especially with those vows.” There’s something odd about her tone and it doesn’t match the smile on her face, but it’s my wedding day and I shake it off. “Go. Don’t mess up your hair or makeup.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her just as Damien tugs me into the bridal suite, which is really just a small room with a full-length mirror, pushing me up against the door. “Hello, husband.”

“Wife.” The word escapes him in a low growl before his lips claim mine, kissing me deeply. His touch is possessive, his kiss commanding, and I’m helpless to do anything but surrender to the rush of pleasure that overwhelms me.

A moan slips from me as I grip the back of his head, pulling him closer because I can’t get enough. I tilt my head to the side, offering him more. My neck, my collarbone, even my shoulder. Anything he wants.

Damien’s hands attempt to crawl under my dress, but they stop with a frustrated grunt. “This dress is beautiful, and you look gorgeous in it, but right now I want to rip the damn thing in half.”

I laugh as my head falls back against the door. “That’ll give you something to think about throughout the reception.” I give his chest a shove, laughing at his disappointed expression.

“Dammit. Okay.” His shoulders drop and he uses his palms to push off the door, putting space between us. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

“I’m already yours.” The look he shoots me is so hot that I swear the lace panties under my dress go up in flames.

For the rest of the evening, it feels as if I’m floating. I can’t say I’ve been this happy since my parents were alive and even though I wish like hell they were here with me today, I lean into the joy and will remember it forever.

“You are absolutely glowing,” Amelia says when she brings me another glass of champagne. “So how does it feel being married to the man of your dreams?”

I shake my head, thinking about it. “Like I’m married to the man of my dreams, but we’ve only been married a few minutes, so I’m sure it’s going to get even better.”

“Damn straight it is.” She leans close. “There are some seriously hot rich guys here, so I’m going to go mingle and you’ll call if you need me.”

“I will.” I watch her saunter over to a cluster of Damien’s business associates with all the confidence and stealth of a jaguar. Those men won’t know what hit them in a few minutes.

Damien joins the group, shaking hands and introducing Amelia formally, which, judging by her expression, surprises her.

“Is this everything you dreamed it would be?” Jay appears at my side, hands shoved in his pocket as usual.

“Yes. I think it is. It would’ve been great if Mom and Dad were here, but I’m glad you were here to walk me down the aisle, Jay.”

“I got your back, kid. Always.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it and I know you have reservations, but I’m really happy with Damien.”

His expression is stoic, but he tries for a grin. “That’s all that matters.” He squeezes my shoulder and glances across the room where his date is chatting with an elderly couple. “Enjoy this day, Frankie. And congratulations.”

It feels good, this happiness and warmth filling my body. I’m happy. Perfectly happy.

“Francesca, you look stunning.” Jess appears in front of me with a brittle smile. “This dress was made for you.”

“Thank you, Jess, and thank you for everything. I know this isn’t in your job description, but you did a wonderful job putting all of this together. And I have a gift of thanks for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m always happy to help.” She looks around before taking a step closer. “Listen Frankie,” then she looks around again. Like she’s got a secret. “I’m only going to say this to you once. Be careful who you trust.” Her eyes bounce on Damien and then to Jay. Then her expression goes blank, and she walks away.

What the actual fuck?

Jess’s words leave me stunned and questioning her motives. Why would she say that to me on my wedding day? Is she jealous? I wonder if it’s the idea that she now has to share Damien with another woman, or if there’s something sexual going on between them.

I catch her working the crowd, flashing a polished smile and delivering two-handed shakes like she’s running for office. The consummate pro. I follow her every step, my eyes glued to her as I bide my time, hoping she’ll wander over to her husband for a dance or at least steal a moment of peace in the chaos of my wedding day.

That’s when I realize he isn’t here.

Jealousy and rage roar inside my body until I’m vibrating. I grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and chug it down in hopes it’ll settle my frazzled nerves. It doesn’t work and now instead of enjoying myself, I’m worrying that there will be tension between me and Jess which I can’t allow because she works for my husband, knows him better than I do.

And that pisses me off.

“Hey,” Damien appears in front of me with his brows knitted in concern. “Everything all right?”

I nod. I could tell him what Jess said to me, but I don’t. What did she really say? Be careful who you trust. That’s good advice and she was smart enough to avoid mentioning Damien by name, so I keep it to myself. “Yeah, just a little overwhelmed,” I admit.

“And?” he asks, reading me correctly.

“Kind of missing my mom and dad.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry they aren’t here, kitten and I wish I could tell you they were watching you from above, but I don’t know that so I’ll just say that I’m sure they both would be proud of the woman you’ve become. Beautiful and kind and successful.”

It’s the most perfect thing he could’ve said at this moment. “Thank you.”

“Let’s enjoy one more dance and then get the hell out of here.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I follow him onto the dance floor and get lost in the music and the lyrics and the feel of Damien’s strong arms around me.

The moment the song ends, Damien grasps my hand and drags me out of the reception area where I catch one last glimpse at the ocean before he tucks me into the waiting limousine. “I can’t wait another minute.” He slams the door behind him before pressing the button to raise the privacy screen. “Finally,” he growls and pulls me onto his lap.

“Are we going back to the penthouse?”

“Nope.” His hand finds my thigh, sliding all the way up to find my panties soaked. He groans. “Francesca.”

“I’m sorry we can’t go on a real honeymoon, but I promise, once we catch this guy, I’m all yours.” I say, looking up at him. “So, where are we going?”

The limo comes to a stop, and Damien smiles. “We’re already here.”

“Where?” I glance out, but the night hides everything from view. I close my eyes and focus on the sound of waves crashing in the distance. The scent of salt fills the air. “The beach?”

“A beach house, to be exact.” He steps out of the limo and offers me his hand. “Let’s go, Mrs. Wolfe.”

A thrill runs through me at the sound of my new name. “I really like the sound of that.”

The beach house is perfect—small, intimate, and tucked away, with the rhythmic crash of waves just outside. String lights are woven along the walls, casting a soft, warm glow. The ocean breeze drifts through the open windows, cooling the air and carrying the salty scent of the sea.

“Wow, this is incredible.”

“Nothing but the best for my wife.”

I turn and give him my back. “Want to help me out of this?”

“Not yet. Leave it on.”

I turnback to him and blink in surprise. “Really? It’s kind of cumbersome.”

“I like to see you in it. You’re gorgeous.”

The bedroom radiates romance. A large, low bed sits at the center, draped in crisp white sheets that shimmer in the soft light. Sheer curtains billow at the windows, swaying with the breeze. Fairy lights wrap around the bedposts, creating a cozy glow. Rose petals are scattered across the bed. Something I thought would make me roll my eyes, but here, it feels perfect.

A woven rug stretches beneath the bed, soft under my bare feet, and the wooden floor beneath is worn but warm, shaped by years of beachside living. A small table in the corner holds an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, the glasses already waiting. Everything is arranged so deliberately, so perfectly. It’s clear that this night has been planned for just us.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so mad at Jess. She did an excellent job. This day has been perfect.

So far.

I step further inside, letting the warmth of the room mix with the cool ocean breeze against my skin. The world outside fades, leaving only Damien and me in this perfect little hideaway by the sea.

“Remember in my vows when I said how much I desire you?”

I nod, heart racing.

“I desire your body as well as your mind, and tonight I am claiming them both.” Damien’s eyes burn with an intensity as he appears over me on the bed. “Lie back against the pillows.”

I comply, my heart pounding.

“Good girl. Now hook your arms under your knees and hold yourself open for me.”

It takes some maneuvering with my dress, but I obey. “Like this?”

He nods, his gaze devouring the sight of my exposed pussy, glistening with arousal. “Fuck, I love seeing you like this. My bride. Pink, wet and open. Completely vulnerable.”

The position feels lewd, but his hungry stare erases any doubt in my mind. He is my husband now. “Damien, please…”

His smile makes me shiver as he positions himself between my spread thighs. “Is this what you want?” he asks in a husky whisper before dragging his tongue along my slit from entrance to clit.

“God, yes,” I gasp.

Never breaking eye contact, he laps at my pussy with slow strokes that make my legs tremble. The heat of his breath, the slick glide of his tongue, is so overwhelming.

I can’t hold back my moans as I watch this gorgeous man devour me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He teases mercilessly, licking everywhere except where I need it most until I’m trembling and desperate. “Please, Damien!”

Finally, he sucks my clit between his lips, applying an exquisite pressure that has me seeing stars. Mischief dances in his eyes as he watches my reactions, increasing the suction and speed of his tongue as I get closer to the edge.

His tongue is doing wicked things to me, and then he slides a finger—slick and wet—into my ass, and I buck my hips, gasping. It’s too much, but I need more. “Fuck! Yes, just like that,” I’m panting, now tugging at his hair to pull him even closer. Screw the dress. It’s already ruined.

With a particularly hard suck on my clit and an intense thrust of his finger, I shatter. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch my back, a strangled scream escaping my lips. “Oh God, yes!” I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me. But Damien doesn’t let up. He continues his sweet torture until another orgasm builds, slow and relentless. “Damien,” I warn breathlessly.

Suddenly, he pulls back, and I barely have time to register his movements before his tuxedo jacket hits the floor. Next, his shirt joins the pile and then he’s tossing his pants with the same force.

“Damien,” I breathe.

“Keep your dress on, Francesca,” he says, his eyes blazing with raw hunger. “I want my bride to look like a bride when I claim you as my wife.”

In one fluid motion, he’s inside me, filling me completely. My eyes widen at the sensation, but I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. Damien’s hands slide along my thighs, pushing the layers of tulle aside. His touch sears my skin as he begins to thrust, his movements both urgent and powerful.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, my nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Don’t stop,” I plead, my body arching to meet his.

I’m so sensitive that every movement feels magnified. When he fucks me like this, like nothing in the world matters, I feel cherished beyond measure. The restraint he’s showing, just to please me, is incredible.

“Fuck, Francesca. Mine,” he growls.

“Yours,” I agree. “Now fuck me, Mr. Wolfe. Give me all you’ve got.”

With a growl that sounds like a wild animal, he pulls out and slams home. Again and again, he pounds into me mercilessly. All I can do is hold on for dear life as he claims his wife, leaving bruises I’ll wear proudly later. “Yes! Yes! Damien!”

I clench around him violently as I come, which seems to trigger his own release. With a growl, Damien empties himself deep inside me, hips jerking erratically.

We collapse in a sweaty, sated heap. Damien nuzzles my neck as we catch our breath. “Fuck, Francesca. I think I died for a second there.”

I stroke his hair with a satisfied smirk. “And my pussy brought you back to life? I’m amazing.”

He pulls back, his gaze intense. “You are absolutely incredible. Never forget that.”

Exhausted and sticky with sweat, I ask, “Can I take this dress off now?”

“No. Sleep in it.” His tone is firm, brooking no argument.

I blink, certain I’ve misheard. “What? You can’t be serious.”

His eyes harden. “I am. The dress stays on.”

What the hell? Who makes their wife sleep in her wedding dress? I open my mouth to argue, but something in his expression stops me cold.

This is a side of Damien I haven’t seen before. Not like this. I swallow hard, forcing a smile. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied, and pulls me close. As I lay here wrapped in layers of tulle and lace, I realize I’ve just seen something significant about the man I married today.

And I pray I didn’t make a mistake.