Page 49 of Vendetta

I need to hold it off. But knowing Giana Acerbi is going to be my wife in a few minutes gets me hotter than fuck. Being with Giana gets me hotter than fuck.

She’s alive.

She’s perfection, and I’m inside her,always trying to me inside her. I don’t give a fuck about anything else in this life but her. Being with her. Fuck the guests. They can wait.

“Harder,” she moans. “God, I love the way you touch me.” She’s trembling underneath me, saying words I can barely understand, panting and gasping and moaning my name.

“Giana, God, I just love you.” And we’re kissing so hard it’s close to being violent, savage. We’re bruising each other’s skin and the desk is slamming and slamming into the fucking wall.

She tightens around me, shattering beneath me, crying out against my mouth.

And I’m coming, deep inside her, spilling into her and instantly scheming the next time I can get back inside her.

We dress in silence, watching each other. She pauses the music on her phone and just outside the office we hear the soft violins begin playing for the guests.

“Are you ready to become my wife?” I ask.

She smiles at me.

Both of us know the huge shoes we have to fill, the business that has to be run. This isn’t just our wedding, our promise to love each other for the rest of our lives, but this is a promise to our family—to never let anything or anyone hurt the family or our organization ever again.