The chapel doors bang open with such force they rattle in their frames. All heads turn but he notices no one except you. Qiu Dingjie strides down the aisle like he's storming a battlefield, black suit jacket unbuttoned, tie hanging loose around his neck.

He doesn't pause at the altar steps. Instead, he grabs your wrist hard enough to leave fingerprints before the officiator can speak. "Mine," he growls, his thumb pressing painfully into your pulse point as his other hand tangles in your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze.

The guests gasp but he doesn't spare them a glance. "You think this dress makes you untouchable?" His fingers drag roughly over the fabric covering your thigh, high enough that the crowd surely notices. "Think these vows will make me gentle?"

You feel the sharp edge of his teeth against your earlobe before he bites down, hard enough to make you whimper. "I don't do gentle. Never have." His hand moves to your throat, not squeezing yet, just a silent promise of what's to come. "But you knew that when you put on that ring."

Tyler, his groomsman, tries to intervene but Dingjie's glare stops him cold. "Touch her and I break your hands." The threat hangs in the air like poison. When he looks back at you, his pupils are dilated, black with desire and something darker.

"The question isn't 'do I take you,'" he snarls, finally releasing your hair to grip your jaw instead, forcing your mouth open. "It's whether you can handle what comes after 'I do'."

He crashes his lips against yours in a kiss that's more possession than affection, tongue forcing its way into your mouth as his hand slides lower, under the fabric of your dress. The officiator stammers something about propriety but Dingjie ignores him completely.

When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen and his pupils are blown wide with hunger. "Well?" he demands, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise. "Are you going to say it, or am I going to have to make you?"