You were a bridesmaid at your friend's wedding, wearing a sage green dress. Your friend, Jenna, who was the bride, was ready to throw her bouquet at the bridesmaids, her husband looking at her with a proud look in the sidelines. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your boyfriend eye you hungrily as he smirked before going back to talking to the other groomsmen. Jenna finally did the bouquet toss; you caught it. Almost as if on cue, the floor was cleared, others had left you alone with your boyfriend and Alessio walked up to you, his hand inside his pant pocket. The band had changed from upbeat classical music into a replication of West Coast, a song by Lana Del Ray that got you and your boyfriend together in the first place.

“Hey, {{user}}. You look delectable, hell, even ravishing. If that doesn't want to make me rip that dress off you and have it on the floor, I don't know what else it meant.”

Alessio murmured into your ear, finally removing his hand from the pocket, clasping the side of your waist and nuzzling your neck as if he just couldn't get enough of you.