Page 20 of The Butcher
His hand slid from my hair to the back of my neck, fingers curling there, not tight but firm enough that I felt it.
Felt him.
“And now you’re mine,” he murmured. “Forever. My Italian princess. My wife. My obsession.”
This wasn’t something that would fade because whatever this was between us… it was only just beginning.
Chapter Eleven
Lucia
Our honeymoon began the following evening, a private flight to Italy where I’d spend a week in seclusion with my new husband.
The cabin was built for privacy, with soft leather seats, polished wood, and low lighting that gave everything an expensive feel.
This was normal for Alexei, I thought. I could tell from the way he moved, from the ease in his posture, from the fact that nothing about this environment seemed to register as anything out of the ordinary.
It wasn’t the same for me, even though I had grown up around wealth and power. I was the daughter of a powerful man in the mafia, butfemales in my world were ornamental. We were pawns.
Alexei didn’t speak much once we boarded, but he didn’t need to. The moment we sat down, his hand settled on my thigh, fingers spread slightly as if there was no question about whether they would stay there.
The weight of it grounded me in a way I hadn’t expected, steady and constant, and no matter how many times I shifted or adjusted my position, he moved with me without looking, like he was aware of every small change I made.
His fingers slowly crept higher under the hem of my dress, tracing possessive circles against my bare skin, brushing dangerously close to where I was still sore and tender.
I thought back to hours before when we’d still been in the suite and we’d finished showering.
I’d caught him staring at the bed as I finished dressing. Alexei had stood motionless at the foot of it, gaze locked on the white sheets that were ruined now… marked with streaks and smears of pink where my virgin blood had mixed with his cum.
The evidence of what he’d taken from me the night before was impossible to miss, and the sight of it seemed to hold him captive.
A dark, satisfied glint flashed through his eyes as he reached down and ran his fingers slowly over one of the dried pink stains. When he looked up at me, his voice was rough and utterly possessive.
“Look at that, princess. Your blood on my sheets. Proof that I was the first—the only—man to ever stretch that tight little Italian cunt open. I should have them framed so I can hang it in my office and jerk off to the memory.”
I’d gasped at his crude words.
He straightened, his focus burning into me.
“Every time you think about these stains, you’ll remember who owns you now. The Butcher took your virginity and painted his claim on these sheets. No other man will ever see these marks. No other man will ever touch what I’ve claimed.”
He’d crossed the room in two strides, pulling me against his chest with that unyielding grip. I was already starting to crave it each and every time.
I’d glanced back at the ruined sheets, heat flooding my face and a fresh ache blooming between my thighs. Then I let him lead me out of the suite knowing that wherever this honeymoon took us, the man beside me would never let me forget exactly who I belonged to now.
I was pulled back to the present when the jetstarted to accelerate down the runway. I tried to focus on anything else at first, the hum of the engine, the way the city disappeared beneath us as the plane lifted into the sky.
None of it held my attention for long, though. Every time I felt his fingers adjust slightly against my leg, the awareness came right back sharper than before.
The sun was setting, and I leaned back into the seat, letting out a quiet breath, but I didn’t move his hand or shift away from him. The warmth of his touch was grounding, sinking deep through my skin the longer his hand pressed to my leg, until it felt less like something I could ignore and more like something I was beginning to accept.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice dropping darker as two fingers slipped beneath my panties and stroked slowly along my swollen folds. “Bet it would take no time at all to make this little pussy wet for me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my jaw because he was right. It would take no time at all. Alexei chuckled as if reading my thoughts but didn’t push further or test how far he could take it.
The rest of the flight passed in that same quiet, secure atmosphere. When we landed, it wasn’tat a crowded airport or somewhere public. The runway was private, a sleek black luxury car already waiting for us, and the transition from the jet to the vehicle was seamless in a way that made it clear this had all been arranged well in advance.
The drive took longer than I expected, the city fading behind us as buildings gave way to open land and long stretches of countryside that seemed untouched by modern development. I sat silently in the back seat, watching it pass by through the window. The quiet settled deeper the farther we went.
