On instinct, she tried feebly to move away, crawling forward just a bit so that his knot was no longer bumping against her hole. “And doth thou, Princess Kyrene, take Prince Yearwood to be thy husband, to hast and to bear from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, ‘i infirmity and ‘i health, to love and to cherish, till perpetual wink thou doth part, according to God’s holy law?”
Something was wrong, and the entire church could tell. His breath was hot and strong on her skin, making her whimper. She belonged to the pack now, very happily serving as the alpha’s bitch for as long as she lived. She rolled lazily onto her back, and the pack surrounded her once more, lying in the sun with her as they licked at their fluffy, still-oozing sheaths. Granted, white looked wonderful against her deep mahogany skin tones and her long, wavy black hair, but the dress was loose and heavy. She could run away and never come back, and not have to be married to that brute.
