A slightly strange woman's moan came from the bride's lounge.
A moment later, Skye Brown, slightly breathless, leaned weakly against Dylan Wellington's shoulder.
At this moment, she was wearing a flawless white wedding dress.
And she was being held up by Dylan Wellington, placed on the bride's dressing table.
Behind her was a makeup mirror that stretched across the entire wall, and in front of her was the man confining her to the table, preventing her from getting down.
Dylan Wellington looked particularly handsome tonight, his black hair neatly combed, with seductive eyes slightly upturned, that hint of coldness at the corners accentuating his features with a more elegant and aloof beauty.
If not for this, Skye Brown wouldn't have been mesmerized when he first came in.
And being mesmerized by him, she fell into his trap.
Now, before the wedding started, he had unexpectedly picked her up and placed her on the dressing table, lifting her elaborate dress and directly...
