Page 5

Wishing I knew how to make this look sexy, I awkwardly maneuver myself to my knees. My back to Sal, I kneel at the edge of the big bed.

He's going to cut off my corset. Shivers cascade down my spine in anticipation.

I'll be left in nothing but my lace panties, a garter belt and silk stockings. They're the exact color of my skin and so sheer, they're all but transparent. Don't ask me how mama found them.

But if you don't see the band at the top of each stocking, it looks like my legs are bare.

My shoes are on the floor somewhere with my dress. They fell off when I was rubbing against Sal like a horny cat. That should embarrass me, but all I want to do is purr and do some more rubbing.

Sal groans. "You have a beautiful ass, cara ."

"That's the way you speak respectfully to your wife?" I flirt.

Reaching down, he cups both my butt cheeks and squeezes. "Nothing I say in the bedroom will ever be intended as disrespect, but it is the one place I will use that kind of language around you. This is not a place for polite masks."

I realize I don't want any masks between us at all.

Is that even possible in a mafia marriage?

"No masks in the bedroom," I agree.

He kneads my bottom sending frissons of pleasure down my thighs. "Ready?"

"For what?" Are we having sex like this for the first time?

His big hands drop away from my backside and then a snick sounds on my left. I turn my head and see a switchblade gleaming sharply in Sal's hand.

"Don't move," he orders. "I don't want to cut you."

The flat of the blade slides over my shoulder and down my spine. I know how sharp men in our world keep their knives. If he slips, even a little, Sal will cut me.

But there is no fear inside me. Only excitement.

The knife lifts from my skin and there's movement at the bottom of my corset. His knife is so sharp, I don't hear the silk ribbons being cut, but my corset falls away from my body.

Exposed to the air, my nipples tingle and pucker more tightly.

I'm not big on top like some of my girlfriends. The corset was designed to push my B cup boobs into prominence and give me cleavage I wouldn't normally have.

Will Sal be disappointed with the real thing?

The knife drops onto the bed and his hands come around to cup my modest curves. "Mine," he growls.

"I belong to myself." The words are right.

I know they are, but something about them feels wrong.

"You belong to me and I belong to you, Ilaria. No other man will ever touch you like this." He kneads my breasts like he's not disappointed by their size at all.

"And no other women for you."

"The De Luca men are faithful in marriage," he reminds me, pinching my nipples.

Gasping, I sway forward, only his hold on my chest keeping me in place.

He flips me around and onto my back, his hungry gaze devouring me as he arranges me just so on the slippery satin bottom sheet. It slides sensually against my skin and the urge to purr and rub grows.

Picking up his knife again, his molten gaze zeroes in on the apex of my thighs. "You're so wet, your panties are soaked through."

Should I be embarrassed? I'm not. "It's your fault."

His grin is all satisfied male. "Yes, it is."

He picks up his knife and reaches toward me. There's no urge to move away from the sharp blade. He won't hurt me.

"Don't move," he warns me a second time before sliding the knife blade between my skin and the silk of my underwear.

A second later, he's cut the other side as well and he pulls my panties away from my body, leaving every intimate part of my body exposed to him.

"So beautiful," he breathes almost reverently and then he pushes my thighs wide. "Such a pretty pussy."

I choke on a laugh. "I don't think there's such a thing."

"Trust me, cara , there is and yours is the prettiest."

Why does hearing that turn me on so much?

There's no time to ponder the question before he lowers his head and puts his mouth right there .

"Sal!" What is he doing?

He ignores me and licks me, the tip of his tongue swirling around my pleasure spot.

"Oh, gah…" My voice chokes off as something hard presses against my entrance.

His finger. It has to be. But when he pushes inside my slick channel, it feels too big to be a finger. I never noticed he had giant hands before, but…

My thoughts splinter as he presses that thick finger upward and touches something with a direct current to every other nerve ending in my body.

Ecstasy builds so fast, my climax hits before I even know it's on the horizon. My scream shatters the air around us. He keeps doing what he's doing until tears of pleasure wash down my temples and my body goes limp.

Sal surges up and tears out of his clothes, removing his tuxedo shirt, jacket, cummerbund, and bowtie. As each item of clothing is removed, my breathing grows faster until I'm practically panting.

Sal De Luca has an amazing body.

My mouth goes dry at the site of my husband's naked torso. Dark curly hair covers his chest trailing down the center of his sculpted abs.

When his hands go to the waistband of his slacks, I hold my breath.

I have only ever seen a naked man, in a playground magazine, one of the girls brought to school with her.

It got confiscated and she spent a week in detention, but the rest of us were more than a little grateful for the opportunity to see something we were probably never going to see until our wedding night.

Sure, some of the girls at the school were sexually active. But us mafia princesses? We knew that having sex before marriage could be risking more than our reputations.

It would have been seen as dishonoring both our parents and our capos and dons. That kind of dishonor could end in death. Or being married off to some geriatric mafioso over in Italy.

I was never going to risk that happening.

Sal pulls his boxers away from his body and over his engorged erection. It's so much bigger than the ones I saw in the magazine, my air rushes out of me in a shocked gasp.

"There's no way that's going to fit inside me." Has he seen my vagina?

"I'll fit." His face is near demonic with lust, his naked body lands on top of mine a second later. Then it's not his finger pushing against my virgin opening. "I'm going to make you mine now."

All I can do is nod.

I want this. No way can I orgasm again, but my body craves his closeness more than it does chocolate that time of month. Way more.

He presses inside, the rigid set to his jaw proof of how tightly he's holding onto his desires. Something deep inside me melts.

Using short thrusts, his body invades mine inch by slow inch. He's breathing like he just finished the Boston Marathon by the time his pelvis presses against my own.

But there is no tearing pain. I'm stretched more than I knew my body could stretch down there. I'm so full, I swear he's occupying space I know is anatomically impossible.

He starts to move, thrusting in and out of me at an excruciatingly slow pace and my passion begins to rise again.

I squirm my lower body, seeking more and Sal grips my hips, taking control of my movements. He guides me at the pace he wants, keeping me at the angle he wants and I let him.

More than let him, I revel in the freedom of not having control.

"You're going to come on my cock," he grits out, his desire burning down at me from his eyes.

"I can't come again." From what I heard from other girls at school, I'm lucky I came at all, much less twice.

"You can and you will." His guttural tone promises he won't accept any other outcome.

Then there's no more talking. Sal plunges in and out of me like a jackhammer, forcing pleasure into my exhausted body until I'm riding toward another impossible climax.

When I come this time, I scream so loud it hurts my throat. Sal ruts a few more times and then goes rigid above me, filling me with his essence as he shouts my name and inscribes his indelibly on my heart.