Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“My wife.” I take a much-needed deep breath. “You belong to me.”
Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s still gasping for air as she stares at me.
Honestly, it looks like she’s in shock.
A frown forms on my forehead. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but her eyes start to shine with tears.
“Use your words, Vittoria,” I order.
“I-I’m o-overwhelmed.” When a sob bursts from her, she reaches for me.
I quickly wrap her up against my chest and press a kiss to her temple.
“It was a m-million times better t-than I t-thought it would be,” she rambles through her tears. “T-thank you.” She presses a kiss against my collarbone, and I listen as the sobs lessen as she regains control over her emotions.
When she glances up at me, her fear for me is dimmed by a look of awe.
Pushing my luck, I turn my cheek to her and order, “Give me a kiss.”
She quickly obeys, and I savor the feel of her lips on my skin.
Letting go of Vittoria, I pull out of her. “Stay right here.”
She nods, still looking stunned by the sexual experience we just shared.
It’s cute.
I chuckle as I walk to the bathroom to get a washcloth, and a smirk tugs at my mouth while I wet the fabric. Walking back to the bed, I rest a knee on the mattress and force Vitorria’s legs open again.
I drink in the sight of the evidence that we consummated our marriage before I gently clean my wife.
She’s so sensitive, her body jerks with every brush of the washcloth over her pussy.
“So fucking perfect,” I murmur, and when I’m done cleaning her, I lean down and press a kiss to her swollen clit.
I walk back to the bathroom and take care of myself before returning to bed, where my wife is still sprawled over the covers with a post-sex glow on her face.
Chapter 16
Tori
Angelo switches off the light before moving me onto my side and lying down behind me. He pushes an arm beneath my pillow, and the other he wraps around me, resting his forearm between my breasts.
His fingers caress my throat, and I feel as he presses a kiss to my hair.
In the darkness, the position feels intimate.
My thoughts are overrun with everything that’s happened tonight. My emotions are all over the place, and I can’t focus on anything long enough to process it.
Now that the afterglow of sex has faded, my fear and confusion have returned full force. Just because he made me feel pleasure doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a different person.
Angelo is still one of the bosses of the Cosa Nostra. He’s still ruthless and violent.
He’s still a stranger.
The sounds in and around the mansion aren’t familiar, and I feel totally out of place lying on the expensive sheets.
Even the pillow feels weird beneath my head.
Angelo lets out a sigh, then his voice rumbles behind me. “What are you thinking about?”
“That I have a lot to get used to,” I admit.
“Like?”
I try to move into a more comfortable position, but then my butt rubs against Angelo’s manhood, and feeling how hard he is, I quickly keep still.
Crap, he asked me a question. What was it again?
I think for a moment, but unable to remember, I ask, “What were we talking about?”
He lets out a chuckle. “One brush of my cock against your ass, and you lose your train of thought.”
My face goes up in flames, and I press it into the pillow.
Angelo pulls me away from my hiding spot and nudges me onto my back. He moves over me, and I have no choice but to open my legs to accommodate him when his weight pushes my body into the mattress.
I’m able to make out his silhouette in the dark as he stares down at me.
“How sore are you?”
My eyebrows fly up, and feeling self-conscious, I whisper, “Down there?”
Bringing his hand to my face, his fingers caress my cheek as he nods.
“Uhm…it’s not bad. Just tender.”
I’ve had periods that were way worse.
I’m not going to lie. It feels uncomfortable having such personal conversations with him.
Suddenly, he pushes his body off mine, and climbing out of bed, he grabs his sweatpants from the floor and puts them on.
Without saying a word, he leaves the room.
I sit up in bed and stare at the doorway.
If he’s going to wear sweatpants, I’m wearing the shirt.
I quickly get off the bed and pick up the T-shirt before walking to the bathroom. I switch on the light and shut the door behind me.
After pulling on the shirt, I quickly relieve my bladder before going to the sink so I can wash my hands. As water runs over my fingers, I glance at my reflection in the mirror.
Spotting red blemishes on my throat, the memory of Angelo sucking and biting my skin flits through my mind.
I turn off the faucet and dry my hands before I lift the shirt and look at my abdomen, hips, and thighs.