Page 18

Chapter Seventeen

Angelo

I feel drunk on her. She floods my senses, makes it hard to think about the family, our safety, the future, anything but the here and now. I am desperate to get her out of the heavy, silk dress, my fingers fumbling as I try to manage the tiny buttons that march down the back.

“Why do they make these things like this?” I mutter in annoyance, as I work my way down the row of buttons. My injured hand is not helping me at all. “This is ridiculous.” My cock throbs with the same frustration that I’m feeling.

She laughs, the sound musical, carefree, as she cranes to look over her shoulder. She’s holding her long, heavy hair out of the way so that I can struggle without also having to deal with her hair hanging down her back.

“I suspect it’s tradition to torture the groom in as many ways as possible,” she says with another giggle.

I grumble a little, but smile. “It’s working,” I say. I sigh with relief as I finally get the last button free.

“Phew!” she says, wriggling out of the heavy dress. I watch in appreciation as her lithe body wiggles in front of me, sending the dress to pool around her ankles. “That thing is heavy.”

“You looked beautiful in it,” I say honestly, reaching out to trail my fingers down her back. Her skin is soft and she smells amazing. I should find out what perfume she wears so I can be sure that she has plenty of it on hand.

“Thank you,” she says, looking back at me again before turning and starting to take off all of her undergarments. “Justine did a great job pulling all of this together at the last moment.”

“She’s a wizard with planning these things,” I agree, licking my lips as I watch her take off her bra. Her breasts, which are the perfect handful, bounce free of the garment. I immediately give in to temptation and cup them in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. She stretches like a cat, pressing into my touch.

“Are you happy to be Mrs. Castiglia?” I ask her. I try not to let her know how much it means to me to have her be happy as my wife. We have never talked about our feelings with each other in any depth. There hasn’t been time. I hate to contemplate finding out that she feels like this relationship is a prison.

She’s silent for an extended period, just enjoying my fingers kneading her flesh. Suddenly, she gasps and pulls back, holding a hand over her breast. She looks strangely guilty as she glances up at me, and I frown.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, concerned.

She forces a smile onto her face again, and I wonder if maybe I imagined what I thought I had seen in her gaze before. “Oh, just a little tender. That happens sometimes.” She steps out of the undergarments on the floor and leans her lithe form against me. “Sorry to interrupt the cadence of things.”

I smile at her and press a kiss to her lips. “Your breasts feel extra delicious today. I like it,” I murmur. I wrap my fingers into her hair and tug her head back, exposing her neck and showering it with nipping kisses.

She lets her head hang into my hands, and I press my lips to hers. The kiss starts out gentle but turns into something fierce, possessive and territorial. She gives as good as she’s getting, nipping at my lower lip, pressing her body into mine and tugging against the restraint of my hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back.

“You’re still dressed,” she says softly, pulling away from me. She looks up at me, her hazel eyes dark with passion.

“I undressed you. It’s your turn,” I tell her with a grin.

She smiles back, and I release her hair. She starts unbuttoning my dress shirt, then leans forward to press small kisses to the skin that is exposed as each button gives way. She helps me get out of my well-cut suit jacket, then pulls the shirt out of the waistband of my pants, shoving it down my arms.

She pauses with her long fingers on my belt, biting her lip and looking at me provocatively. My cock presses toward her unconsciously, and she smiles for real.

“Eager, are we?” she mutters, removing my belt and unzipping my slacks.

“Always,” I say huskily. I have never felt this for a woman. I want to sink inside of her so badly that I’m shaking with need. It should be frightening to be this obsessed with her, but it’s not. Wanting her, feels as natural as breathing to me by now and I can’t imagine any other form of existence.

She slips my slacks down, then runs a finger under the elastic of my boxer briefs. She walks around me, her finger skimming against my heated flesh, just under the edge of my underwear. She pauses to give my ass an appreciative smack.

“Such a sexy bum,” she says, a little bit of an English accent tinging her words.

“Glad you think so,” I tell her. “I work hard to keep it like that. Also, you sound like an English girl when you say dirty things.”

She laughs. “That all right with you?” she asks me, broadening the accent further as she circles around to my front.

“I love it,” I tell her, looking at her from under lowered eyelids. I feel drunk with desire, loose in my joints, under her thrall.

“Bet you’ll love this even more,” she says saucily, the English accent still rounding out her words. She slips off my underwear and my cock springs out toward her eagerly. She smiles down at it appreciatively for a moment, before hunkering down in her tall heels, and taking it into her mouth.

I thrust forward into the warmth of her mouth immediately, closing my eyes and placing a hand on her head. Her hair is silky beneath my fingers as she sucks on me, her small hands wrapping around the remainder of my length. I don’t know if she’s incredibly good at this, or if it’s the sight of her squatting in her high heels, her pussy on display as she sucks me off that is making it so hard for me to keep from busting immediately in her mouth.

“Jesus, that’s good,” I manage to say.

“He’s not here,” she says before sucking me into her mouth again. “It’s just you and me,” she adds, before going back to work.

I allow her to suck on me for a moment more, before I gently pull her head away. “Too much more of that, and this wedding night will be over before it began.”

She smiles at me, and I glance down to see her pussy throb once. She rises athletically to her feet, standing before me in her sky-high heels, beautifully naked.

“I have never had to work so hard to keep myself in check,” I tell her, stepping closer and reaching down to touch her. She’s soaking wet, and she gives a little moan of want as I slip my fingers inside of her, teasing, then withdrawing. “You make me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she whispers, her eyes half-closed.

“Since we are taking turns in service to one another…” I say, before kneeling before her and sucking her clit into my mouth. She’s soaking wet, and the taste of her is incredible.

She clenches my hair in her fingers, pressing against my mouth and tongue, moaning. I wrap my hand around her slim, muscular thigh, enjoying the contrast of strong muscles and soft, feminine skin. I delve my tongue inside of her, discovering the places that she likes the best, feeling the rising tremors that indicate she’s spiraling toward orgasm.

Her legs start to tremble, and a trickle of moisture runs down her thigh. “Angelo…I don’t think I…” she gasps out, before she starts to wobble in her high heels.

I rise immediately and tumble us backward onto the bed, her hair flying up to fall over her breasts in a silky cascade, tangling in my fingers and smelling of her perfume.

“Please, Angelo, please,” she moans, writhing a little on the bed, lifting her hips toward me plaintively. “I’m so close.”

I shake my head a little. “Trust me, Tesoro mio,” I say. I nudge her wetness with the head of my cock, but don’t allow myself to slip inside. It’s almost impossible not to ram into her with mindless abandon. It’s all my body wants, but I hold back.

“Please,” she mewls, arching off the bed, trying to force me to slip inside of her. “Please, I want you.”

“I know you do,” I reply, nudging my cock through her slickness again, letting just the head slip inside of her. I withdraw as soon as she tries to lift her hips to meet me. “Which is why you can’t have me…yet.”

“Angelo,” she says, her tone growing a bit annoyed. She presses up toward me, and sheathes herself around me entirely with an excited cry.

“Fuck,” I mutter, barely managing to force myself to pull out of her again. “Patience,” I mutter to her as I lift myself off of her body a little.

I trail kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, and suck a nipple into my mouth. She arches into my mouth wildly, desperate for release, tossing her head on the bed. I continue on my way, ignoring my raging cock, kissing along her ribs, pressing my lips to her navel, then trailing my warm breath over the skin of her mound. She cants her hips up with a cry, her pre-orgasm shaking starting again.

“Oh, Angelo,” she pleads. “I’m going to die if I don’t come.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” I say back. I draw closer to her again, allowing myself to come to rest against the wetness of her. The heat pouring from her hungry pussy makes my head spin, and my hips jerk in her direction before I can stop them. Hissing with annoyance at myself, I slow down, pressing a hand to her body just below her navel.

“Slow down, Tesoro mio,” I whisper to her, moving slowly, so slowly within her, sheathing myself one fractional bit at a time. “Let me do the work. Let me pleasure you.”

She draws in a deep breath, her languorous eyes meeting mine. She nods once, the movement almost imperceptible, before relaxing slightly into the bed. I continue pressing forward, my cock parting her heated flesh one tiny bit at a time. Her trembling increases as she catches her lower lip in her teeth, clearly struggling to hold still and let me fuck her this way.

I finally seat myself fully inside of her, and close my eyes as I will my cock to wait for just a moment, to extend the moment.

“Angelo, I swear to God if you don’t…” she starts to say, her eyes flashing at me.

I silence her with a kiss, and press even further into her, nudging, pressing, stretching. She gasps loudly, her hands grasping the bedspread.

“Come with me, Tesoro mio, ” I tell her, feeling my orgasm poised to flood over me. I press forward yet again, feeling her internal trembling, feeling her thighs shaking where they are wrapped around my waist.

“Oh my God, Angelo!” she screams, coming violently, shaking and trembling, her wetness rushing over my cock and spilling across her thighs. I pump inside of her twice, and follow her over the edge, roaring with a pleasure that feels like it’s tearing me apart from the inside out.

I just manage to keep myself from collapsing onto her, crushing her with my weight as I shake and snap with the jolts of ecstasy. I have never, ever experienced anything like this. I feel like I might die, but I would welcome death if it feels like this.

“Oh my lord,” she whispers between noisy breaths. “Oh my God.”

“Agreed,” I say, my voice deep, hoarse, like I’ve been yelling at a concert or speaking loudly for hours.

I manage to tumble onto my side, tugging her with me so I can pull her into me. I stroke my hand slowly up and down her back, soothing us both, quieting the remaining aftershocks of the intense pleasure we just experienced.

“I will take this as a sign that you are okay with being Mrs. Castiglia,” I say, dropping a kiss on her brow.

She chuckles. “How can I complain when you can do that to me?”

I laugh lightly. “I should be thanking you. For so many reasons.”

She sighs a little and snuggles closer. “See that you don’t forget it.”

We are silent for a moment or two, and then I say, “I wish that we could go on a honeymoon. I’m sorry about the timing of all of this. I’m sure that this isn’t what you imagined when you thought about your wedding day.”

She leans away a little bit to look at me. “Well, to be fair, when I thought about my wedding day the last time, I was a little girl and I couldn’t have imagined most of what this night would entail.” She trails her fingers over my cock, which is still at half-mast. It twitches toward her despite this.

“Fair enough,” I say with a smile. “Do you want a honeymoon?”

She shrugs. “It would be nice, eventually, I guess. But I know it’s not possible right now.”

I appreciate that she’s so practical. She often amazes me with her determination to get things done. She is dogged, and tackles jobs with precision and energy, both big and small.

“I’m sure that there’s something that we can do over the next couple of days,” I press. I want her to be happy. I want her to feel appreciated.

She is quiet for a moment. Then she says, “Well, there is one thing I have been wishing I could do.”

I draw back a little. “Name it.”

She bites her lip, but she replies to my question. “Well…when I was a kid, my mom used to take me to the ice skating rink this time of year, and then we’d have hot chocolate or sweets from a food cart nearby. It was…we were…so happy.” Her voice sounds thick with tears, and I felt a pang of sadness for her.

“We can do that,” I tell her with a smile.

“Okay,” she says easily. “When?”

I lift up onto my elbow. “How about right now?”

“Wait, what?”

I grin at her. Her idea sounds fun. I can’t remember the last time I had any fun. “Sure,” I say with a shrug. “We’ll just bring some guards with us.”

She sighs. “I don’t really want to have to go if we have to have guards,” I admit. “It still feels weird to be watched while I’m having fun. It’s so…awkward.”

I nod. I can understand that even though I’m very used to being followed everywhere I go. I think for a moment, looking at her, feeling the lingering pleasure from fucking her tingling through me. I would do anything for her, I realize. Because I love her.

Love. The realization makes me feel like someone hit me over the head. I stare at her as I realize just how long this has been the case. I have no idea if she feels the same way, but I want her to.

“Let’s go without them, then,” I tell her against my better judgment. “It’s not far.”

Her grin is dazzling and I feel like a hero seeing it. “Oh my gosh, yay!” she exclaims. She bolts off the bed, then looks down at herself in her tall, sexy heels, sticky with our pleasure. “Shower,” she says, jogging toward the bathroom, her firm booty bouncing a little with each jogging step.

I chuckle, rising from the messy bed and stepping over our discarded clothing to join her in the bathroom. She’s taking off her heels and dancing around excitedly, and I smile at her.

“Dress warm!” she sings out as she gathers her hair into a big, messy bun before stepping into the shower. “It’s surprisingly chilly on the ice. Plus, if you fall, the extra layers are good for some protection.”

“Can I join you?” I ask her with amusement.

“Oh,” she laughs. “Yes, of course.” She pushes open the shower door, then goes back to rinsing off.

I watch her for a moment, basking in her joy. I realize that she hasn’t been this happy since I met her and I feel a ridiculous amount of pride in having generated this response in her. I know we shouldn’t go out without a guard, but she is so excited about my proposed adventure, that I can’t bear the thought of ruining it.

I think to myself that I will send Franco a text. Just to make sure that he’s keeping tabs on our location via location sharing. I’m not a complete fool, even if my new wife is encouraging me to throw caution to the wind just this once.

I get out of the shower and towel off, then quickly send Franco a text.

I don’t like this idea. I can come and hang out where she can’t see me.

I sigh. I would feel better if he did that, but I don’t want to break her trust, or ruin the happy mood that she’s in.

I’ll update you if anything strange seems to be going on. You can probably see us from your bedroom window.

“Something wrong?” Sophia asks, her voice tense.

“Nope. Hurry up! It’s going to be dark soon.”