Fuck. None of that should have happened.
I leaned back against the bathroom wall and ran a hand over my face, rubbing my burning eyes. It was just days before my wedding and I was horrifically hungover and Duran was texting me asking if anyone was going to pick him up from the airport because he’d forgotten to have his car dropped off. Steeling myself, I got to my feet and turned the shower on and stepped beneath the ice cold spray.
It didn’t matter that I’d told her about my plan to kill Romano. I was using our honeymoon as a cover for a secret trip to Moscow to fine-tune my plans with Viktor, so she would find out soon anyway. But the news that Romano had touched her sent a whirl of rage and guilt through me. While I’d been in the bathroom with a girl I didn’t even know, Olivia had been outside at the mercy of that man.
I was going to enjoy every second of killing him.
Despite my anger, images of Olivia last night kept flashing through my brain. My dick hardened despite the cold spray running over my body. That place between her thighs, that sweet thing that was always in the back of my mind, was everything I’d imagined. Her bare pussy a soft shade of light brown with delicate folds and a clit I couldn’t stop imagining between my teeth.
And her legs. The way they stiffened when she came, her lower back lifting a little off the bed. For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about how her slender feet arched as that gasping cry ripped from her mouth. I’d never had an interest in any woman’s feet. Legs, yes, but feet had always seemed so decidedly not erotic to me. Until Olivia.
I closed my eyes. Into my mind swam a mental image of her splayed out on the countertop before the bathroom mirror with her ankles up on my shoulders. Beautifully delicate ankles with blue veins pulsing beneath the skin, sliding down to elegant arches, her perfectly manicured toes curling as I moved in and out of her tight pussy.
What the hell was wrong with me?
My phone rang loudly and I sighed, leaning my head against the shower wall. My cock was so hard it hurt and the incessant sound of my phone split my throbbing head like a knife. I needed to get it together and handle my responsibilities like I wasn’t still hungover and borderline drunk.
The next few days were filled with wedding preparations. Duran took me to the tailor for last minute alterations to my suit and then we went down to one of our clubs for a drink. I’d insisted that I didn’t want a bachelor party, but several of the other men from the outfit showed up. At least Duran had the restraint not to hire strippers, although I suspected that had more to do with Iris forbidding it than anything else.
It was a late evening of drinking. After my third glass, I had the bartender bring me out water because I wasn’t going to be hungover on my wedding day. I needed to be fully sober, collected, and ready to face not only my capo, but every underboss in the outfit.
And I wanted to be in a fit state to bed my wife on our wedding night.
The next day, at eleven in the morning, I stood at the front of the cathedral with Duran at my side. The pews of the church were packed with members of the outfit, hundreds of eyes all fixed on me. Olivia’s family sat in the front on the left side, her mother’s eyes glazed with excitement. Disgust rose in me at the sight; she wasn’t excited for her daughter, she was eager for her new social standing.
I kept my shoulders back, my spine straight, my face impassive, and my eyes guarded. Today was a day to show strength, to show unity, because soon enough I would raze the Romano family to the ground. Then I would be their capo, their king.
But, until then, I was a dutiful underboss obediently wedding the woman his capo had picked for him.
The music changed and Iris walked up and took her place opposite Duran. Then the doors opened and the tempo picked up and there was Olivia on her father’s arm. I was too transfixed by the sight of her to even notice the detestable man who led her up the aisle, the man who had vented his temper on her for years. I would deal with him when the time came.
The woman on his arm, my wife, drew my attention and kept it. She wore a white gown that draped around her legs and trailed behind her as she walked. The torso of her dress clung to her like a second skin, the sleeves going down to her wrists, and the neckline forming a sharp V down between her breasts. Her cleavage was extraordinary and it took all I had in me to drag my eyes away before I embarrassed myself.
Her father didn’t embrace or kiss her when he handed her over. In fact, he seemed incredibly relieved to be rid of her as he shook my hand and went back to his seat. His behavior didn’t surprise me anymore; it was clear to me that my wife’s family regarded her as little more than chattel to be traded for social status.
I looked down at Olivia and for the first time it hit me how frightened she was. Her slender fingers wrapped around her bouquet of roses were pale and her mouth trembled a little as she looked up at me. A part of me wanted to reassure her, but I couldn’t show that kind of weakness in front of the outfit. Instead I held out my palm and she let Iris take her bouquet and placed her clammy hand in mine as we turned to the altar.
I scarcely remembered the wedding mass or our vows. But when it came time for us to kiss, time slowed a little as we faced each other. Other than brief touches here and there, we’d remained completely separated. And we’d barely spoken since I’d gotten drunk and forced her to touch herself in front of me.
God, I was a monster.
All eyes were on us, waiting for me to make a move. I slid my fingers around the back of her neck and bent low, my mouth brushing hers and I waited for her to respond. She stayed completely still, her cold mouth a hair’s breadth away from mine. I kissed her swiftly, her lips soft against mine, and drew back to face the congregation.
There was a round of applause and the wedding bells struck up as I swept her down the aisle. I had no wish to stand around outside the doors to greet the guests, but it was tradition, so we didn’t have a choice. I kept her close to me, my hand on her waist, as Romano approached to congratulate us. To my relief, Iris stayed on her other side the entire time, buffering her against the swell of guests.
It took at least an hour for us to greet everyone, with the exception of Olivia’s parents, who kept their distance after I sent her mother a cold glare. Then I took her by the hand as the bells rang out for the last time, and led her down the steps to the limousine. Olivia gave a quiet sigh when the doors shut, a little color returning to her face. She seemed more relaxed now that we were alone.
“You didn’t kiss me in the church,” I said.
She gave a little sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so anxious, I can barely remember the ceremony. I guess I just froze up.”
I dropped my gaze to her mouth, a little swollen from how hard she was biting it. Yes, I had technically kissed her, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to taste my wife the way I wanted to. Leaning forward, I took her by the elbow and drew her close. She looked up at me, her dark eyes wide, and her breasts rose and fell over her neckline as she breathed hard.
I kissed her, parting her lips just enough to swipe my tongue through and taste her mouth. It was everything I could do to keep from moaning. My wife tasted like nothing I’d ever experienced, like sweet champagne and lust all mixed together. I put my hand on her throat to steady her head as I drove my tongue between her lips, needing another taste of her. Fuck, she was exquisite.
I pushed her dress up to her knee and my fingers found her calf, smooth as silk. She gave a moan as I traced the inside of her knee and I felt the sound reverberate in her throat beneath my hand. When she drew back for a breath, I bent her head to the side and kissed up the impossibly soft skin of her neck to the little valley below her ear.
My brain had one track and it was moving fast. I pulled her onto my lap, my cock twitching as her thighs clenched on either side of my legs. It would be so easy to just open the front of my pants and pull aside her panties and sink into her wet heat. I could tell she wanted this, that she wouldn’t refuse me. But no, she deserved to lose her virginity properly, not in the back of a limousine on the way to her wedding reception where everyone would know what we’d done.