Page 22 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
The third climax hits me like a seizure, violent and all-consuming. My entire body locks, my scream is soundless. Ipulse around his fingers, a relentless, fluttering rhythm that seems to go on forever.
As I slump against him, utterly spent, he holds me close. I can feel him, still rock-hard and massive, beneath me. Driven by a primal instinct, I reach a trembling hand behind me, fumbling for his belt. I find the hard ridge of him through the fine wool and stroke, rubbing my palm against him.
He lets out a choked groan, his hips jerking up into my touch. “Rosalina…”
A low knock rings through the partition of the car. The driver’s polite, neutral voice cuts through the heavy air. “Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore, we’ve arrived home.”
The car door opens and cool night air washes over my heated skin. In one smooth motion, Dante scoops me into his arms, my ruined skirts cascading over his forearm. He carries me as if I weigh nothing, his steps sure and quick up the stone path, through the grand foyer, and up the sweeping staircase. I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent—spice, clean sweat, andme.
He doesn’t pause. He shoulders open the door to a vast, dark bedroom and kicks it shut behind us. In the next heartbeat, he has me pinned against the heavy wood, his body a solid wall of heat pressing into me. His mouth finds mine in a searing kiss, all possession and promise.
His hands work at the remaining closures of my dress. With a final tug, the heavy fabric gives way, slumping to the floor in a whisper of satin and lace. I stand before him in just my torn stockings, the corset, and the memory of his touch. The air is cool on my bare skin, raising goosebumps.
He takes a half-step back. His eyes travel over me, a slow, scorching caress from my flushed face, down my trembling body, to my toes. The intensity of his gaze makes me feel more exposed than being naked. He drags in a deep, ragged breath.
“Christ,” he whispers, the word full of reverence. “You are… breathtakingly beautiful, Rosalina. My wife.”
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold.
He cups my cheek, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. His dark eyes hold mine, fierce and unwavering. “Are you ready for me now?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy with meaning. It’s not just about my body. It’s about surrender. My throat is dry, but my voice is steady. “Yes.”
A slow, predatory smile touches his lips. “Good girl.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Such an obedient, perfect wife. You take my touch so beautifully. Now I want to see you.” He nods toward the massive bed behind him. “On the bed. On your back. Touch yourself for me. Show me how ready you are.”
My heart stutters.No onehas ever seen me do that. The idea is terrifying, deeply private. But under his heated gaze, a command woven with praise, my nervousness melts into a throbbing, liquid heat. I want to please him. I want tobehis good girl.
I move on shaky legs to the bed, the silk coverlet cool beneath me. I lean back on my elbows, feeling impossibly vulnerable. Dante stands at the foot of the bed, a dark silhouette, and begins to slowly, deliberately, remove his suit jacket. He tosses it aside, his eyes never leaving mine.
My hand drifts down my stomach. I close my eyes for a second, then force them open, keeping them locked on his. My fingertips brush through the slickness between my legs, and a soft gasp escapes me. I circle my clit, the touch electric and foreign under his watch.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, unbuttoning his shirt. “Look at you. So innocent, so desperate. Doing exactly as I asked.” He pulls his shirt off, revealing the muscular planes of his chest and abdomen. My breath catches.
He undoes his belt, the buckle clinking softly. As he pushes his trousers and briefs down, his cock springs free, and I gasp again, my hand stilling. It’s thick, veined, and impossibly large, jutting proudly from his body. The tip is flushed and wet.
“You see?” he says, a dark amusement in his voice. “You weren’t ready for this in the car.” He steps out of his pants and I see a distinct, dark wet stain on the fine fabric. He follows my gaze and laughs, a low, rough sound. “Dirty girl. Look what you did to me just from rubbing against me.”
The shameful thrill of it makes my core clench. He walks to a nightstand, pulls out a small bottle, and coats his length with clear lube, stroking himself slowly. The sight is obscene and mesmerizing.
He comes to the bed, spreading my legs with his knees. He hovers over me, the broad head of his cock nudging against my soaked, sensitive folds. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it. Please, Dante. I need you.”
In one swift move, Dante’s hands grip my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls me forcefully to the edge of the bed. My breath hitches as the silken sheets slide beneath me,the cool air brushing against my exposed skin. My hips are now perfectly aligned with his, and I can feel the heat of him radiating just inches away. His eyes burn into mine, dark and possessive, as if he’s already claimed every part of me.
“God, look at you,” he growls, his voice low and rough with desire. “Pulled right where I want you, just for me.Mywife,mygood girl.” His hands slide up my thighs, pushing them wider apart, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. The way he looks at me—like I’m something precious yet entirely his to devour—sends a shiver down my spine.
“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the slickness between my legs. I nod frantically, my body trembling with need. He smirks, a wicked curve of his lips that makes my heart race. “Say it, Rosalina. Tell me how badly you want me.”
“I—I want you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Please, Dante.”
He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “Good girl. You’reperfectlike this. So obedient, so desperate for me.” His words coil tightly in my stomach, igniting a fire that only he can quench.
As he straightens, his gaze never leaves mine, and I know he’s savoring every second of my vulnerability. Every second of my surrender.
“So fucking beautiful,” he rumbles as my pussy clenches around nothing. I’m absolutely drenched for him.
He closes the small gap between us, and when I feel his bulbous tip against my clit, slowly dragging through my wetness, my entire body trembles. “Don’t make me wait.”
